He turned and talked to the group in Spanish. There was a good bit of arm waving and a bit of shouting but finally it wound down.
“They agree in general,” Villa said. “We will accompany you to La Playa and San Sebastian De La Gomera and see what the conditions there are, as well. We may find others who are familiar with firearms. Diego, he has been born and raised here in Puntilla and has rarely even gone to San Sebastian De La Gomera. He does not really want to leave. But I say we see what the other towns are like, what other survivors there are of the infectado, then decide. I go with you and I am the only one familiar with guns, si? So they go with us then we decide.”
“Works for me,” Chen said. “Can any of you drive that thing? Assuming it works.”
“That is why I need Diego,” Villa said, smiling. “He is captain. So, we eat, yes?”
* * *
“Pretty little town,” Sophia said as the guns ravaged the “infectado.” “But the harbor sucks. Why would anyone put a boatyard in a town like this?”
There were about twenty yachts and smaller boats up on blocks in the small boatyard. It was pushed so far up against a cliff the road past it went through a tunnel. The harbor was barely large enough for the three boats to spread out in their standard formation and they were firing across the jetty instead of down it since the tip jutted straight out to sea.
“You’re asking me?” Faith asked. “Hell if I know. Ask Villa or something… ”
* * *
“We got customers!” Pagliaro shouted.
“Survivors?” Faith asked then racked her weapon at the sight of three “infectado” coming down the road. “Time to stop, Staff Sergeant.”
“Stopping, ma’am,” Derek said. “But if I may, I think Pag’s probably got this, LT.”
“Permission to engage, Corporal?” Pagliaro said.
“Sure,” Faith said, sighing. She’d had it explained to her by the Gunny and Lieutenant Volpe that the job of an officer was to figure out what the unit was going to do next. Not kill zombies, then, unless there was a specific reason. That was what privates and lance corporals were for. She was starting to wonder if maybe she should have asked to be a private.
“Engage, PFC!”
“Engaging, aye.”
* * *
“Barbie guns,” Faith muttered, tapping her fingers on her crossed arms as Pag and Derek engaged another group of infected.
The small, picturesque, seaside town turned out to be so complicated, all the infected hadn’t made it to the harbor by morning. The two teams were running into scattered groups of zombies between bouts of getting totally lost.
She glanced to the side and saw a zombie coming down the alleyway they’d stopped by. Pag and Derek were forward, taking out the group of infected while she, the proper officer, waited in the car for them to get done. She debated if it was her job to tell Pag he had a zombie coming up behind him or what. Finally, she just drew her H amp;K and fired it off-hand, hitting the zombie in the chest. The woman dropped like a stone. She was blonde which meant probably a tourist stuck here when the Plague shut down travel.
Faith decocked, holstered and checked the mirror to make sure there weren’t any coming up behind. Then she checked her, admittedly light, make-up and touched up her lip gloss.
“You guys done?” she said, leaning out the window.
“Yes, ma’am,” Derek said.
“How’s your ammo count?” Faith asked.
“Fine for now, ma’am,” Derek said, starting up the Fiat. “We’re having to use a lot of rounds as usual but it’s not like we’re in an assault or anything.”
“Barbie guns,” Faith sighed. “Onward, Derek,” she said, pointing forward.
“Did you do something different with your hair, ma’am?”
* * *
“I’m going to declare La Playa as a yellow zone,” Lieutenant Chen said as the sun descended on the cleared town. There had been ten survivors found. None of them were in great shape but they weren’t death camp survivors, either. They’d been gathered on the “local” yacht, the Estrella De Mar. “We can immediately transit to Gomera and start the evening festivities, then clear that tomorrow. It’s bigger and may take more than a day.”
“I don’t think I’ll be joining the festivities this evening, sir,” Faith said, yawning. “Although I’ve mostly been riding around in a taxi, it’s been a long few days.”
* * *
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Faith said. “Not another one.”
There was a cruise ship tied up to the wharf at San Sebastian De La Gomera.
“That’s not all that big, ma’am,” Januscheitis said.
“It’s not the size that matters,” Faith said. “I’ve got a real case of PTSD about cruise ships. The Iwo… you guys had a fighting chance. You could fight. You did fight. You weren’t locked in your fucking staterooms waiting for help that never came and slowly starving to death. And you were Marines. You sign up to go somewhere Uncle Sam needs people killed. You weren’t on your honeymoon or a family vacation. It’s opening up the compartments and finding the kids with arms like toothpicks that didn’t even really bloat because there wasn’t anything to bloat that bugs the hell out of me, okay, Staff Sergeant?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Januscheitis said.
“All that being said, it’s a fraction the size of the Voyage,” Faith said. “No real problem. Just take lots of lights.”
“No Tan Lines, Division,” Chen radioed. “Need to talk to the ground clearance officer.”
“It’s for you, sis,” Sophia said, holding out the radio.
“Division, Shewolf,” Faith said. “To answer your probable question, two to three days depending on infected level. Probably not a lot of survivors at this point. Over.”
“Roger, we will clear ground infecteds, then you can proceed to clearance ops on the vessel. After that, the town.”
“Roger, Division,” Faith said. “Glad we brought the heavy stuff.”
* * *
“Shit,” Chen said. “This is not the optimum outcome.”
The chosen spot for engaging the infected with machine gun was what appeared on the charts to be an old jetty, possibly the original harbor or an old marina. There was a shoal that was clearly an old seabreak that came out from land and made a dogleg to the south. There was a small bit of it that still extended above the water at high tide and connected to the land.
Their usual antics had attracted a huge crowd of infected to the spit of land where they’d brutalized them come dawn. Unfortunately, the main jetty to seaward was close enough that more infected had gathered there. He had notionally planned on turning the division around and engaging them second. But when the usual seabirds descended on the carnage left by the MaDeuce, the group had started to mill around and break up. By the time they did the usual bit of picking up their anchors and spinning around to engage, the group would be so spread out it would take forever to hunt them all down with the.50s.
“Division, Shewolf, over.”
Just what he needed. A thirteen-year-old with a question. She probably wanted tips on playing with dolls.
“Go, Ground Clearance Officer.”
“Infected on south jetty breaking up. Request permission to put a couple down by rifle fire. The snacks should keep them around until you can adjust to engage with the Mas. Over.”
Or, he could have the Marines shoot a couple…
“Confirm, Shewolf. Good call.”
“Staff Sergeant Januscheitis’s idea, over. Engaging. Shewolf out.”
And she gave credit where credit was due. Chen shook his head and made a note in his personal log.