She grabbed a tray and started filling up a plate. She’d always worried about her weight but clearance ops were calorie intensive. You could eat about anything you wanted when you were spending all day climbing stairs carrying a hundred pounds of gear, ammo and weapons and fighting zombies. Another benefit of a zombie apocalypse.
“Hey, LT,” a voice said.
She turned around and thought about it. The face was familiar…
“Sergeant Smith,” Smith said. “I was in the compartment with Staff Sergeant Januscheitis, Lieutenant.”
“Smitty,” Faith said, nodding. “He talks about you a lot.”
“Marines are over on the other side of the messdeck,” Smitty said, gesturing with a thumb. “The Staff Sergeant’s still down. But Derk and Pag are over there.”
“I’ll be right over,” Faith said. “Just let me load up with some carbs.”
“I can get that for you, ma’am,” Smitty said.
“I think I can carry my own tray, Sergeant,” Faith said. “But thanks.”
She skipped the deserts, her tray was getting overloaded and she could always come back, and headed over to the table.
“Room for one more?” she asked.
“Right here, Skipper,” Pagliaro said, pulling out a chair.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” Faith said, sitting down. “And I know you work for a living.”
“How’d the meeting go, ma’am?” Derek asked.
“I only sort of vaguely remember it,” Faith said. “I get the feeling Captain Wilkes doesn’t like me.”
“He’s trade school, ma’am,” one of the Marines said. “Citadel of all places. He’s not really that up on ROTC officers. And he’s a pilot. They’re all ‘I’m a pilot so I’m hot shit.’ ”
“He’s doing okay at running the clearance,” another said, shrugging. “For a guy who’s not infantry.”
“How’s it going?” Faith asked. She was vaguely aware that it wasn’t a good idea for an officer to get into running down a superior.
“Lots of zombies,” one of the Marines said. “Lots of fucking zombies.”
“Lieutenant Fontana said it’s almost as bad as the Voyage,” another said. “But the cabins weren’t locked down.”
“How come so many survived?” Pagliaro said. “I mean, water, hello!”
“Fountains,” Sergeant Smith said. “The place has fucking fountains and pools everywhere. And they were all full. There’s also pools on the upper deck that caught rainwater. And most of the doors were open so they could move around. Some of the compartments below the water tanks had valves leaking or partially opened. It’s a fucking zombie fest.”
“Which Captain Wilkes has been careful to avoid,” one of the Marines said. “He hasn’t gone past the embarkation area.”
“And he had us lay out all the bodies and ‘prepare them for proper burial,’ ” another said. “If he expects us to do that with the whole ship… ”
“Then we’ll do it with the whole ship,” Sergeant Smith said.
“Da’ll just have us scatter beetles,” Faith said. “There’s no way to clear two or three thousand bodies.”
“What I don’t get is how you and your dad cleared one of these by yourselves,” a Marine said. “Jesus, ma’am. I mean… We’ve only got two decks clear.”
“One compartment at a time,” Faith said. “And it wasn’t just Da and I. There was Sergeant… Lieutenant Fontana and Hooch. But, yeah, it was a bit of a wanker. Really rather change the subject. Okay, we’re all Marines, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Smitty said.
“Not everybody in the saloon?”
“No, ma’am,” Smith said, frowning.
“How come half the people in this room are wearing Marine and Navy T-shirts?” Faith asked.
“Oh, that,” Smitty said, chuckling. “There was a big stash of them on the Iwo. You know how finding clothes that fit is tough, ma’am. So they just are handing them out to whoever gets found.”
“Ah,” Faith said. “That makes sense. It sort of makes it hard separating the sheep from the goats, though.”
“Well, I guess we could give them all dresses, ma’am,” Derek said.
“Bite your tongue,” Faith said. “Those are works of art!”
“We heard about your little combat shopping spree, ma’am,” Sergeant Smith said over the chuckles.
“Okay, okay, so I went a little nuts,” Faith said. “Sue me. You’re guys. You don’t get it.”
“We figure we’d do the same thing if it was a container full of Guinness, ma’am,” Derek said, grinning. “Don’t sweat it. No worries.”
“Is the door still holding?” Faith asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Smitty said. “We did some reinforcing on it. Well, covered some Navy guys who reinforced it.”
“We need to get those out of the container and into safety,” Faith said. “Seriously. Those are works of art. You don’t just leave them to get rained on or overrun by infected.” She looked at her empty plate and sighed. “I really shouldn’t do dessert… ”
“I’ll get you something, ma’am,” one of the Marines said. “What do you want?”
“I appreciate it, again,” Faith said, standing up. “But, you guys have been clearing all day while I was napping. I should do my own fetching.”
* * *
“So that’s Shewolf?” one of the Marines said as she walked away. He added a whistle. “Damn that’s some fine jailbait.”
“Olsen, I will personally ram a fork down your throat,” Pagliaro said.
“And the rest of us will hold you down,” Smitty added. “Not to mention disrespect to a superior officer.”
“I wasn’t being… ” Olsen said. “I guess I was but, just… wow! And I am being very respectful of the LT, Sergeant. Nothing but admiration. But is she really… I mean, she’s big for a chick, especially a, you know, thirteen-year-old chick, but is she really as badass as everybody says?”
“Worse,” Derek said. “Dead killer combat shooter, rifle or pistol. She’s killed so many infected she just does it without thinking. Muscle fucking memory. Sees an infected, kills it. I’ve never seen her use her kukhri but Lieutenant Fontana said she’s pretty much the same at melee range. You’ve seen the video, right?”
“Yes, Corporal, I have,” Olsen said. “Just having hard time connecting Miss Hotty with it.”
“Then there’s the drinking thing,” Derek said, shaking his head.
“Drinking?” Olsen said. “Isn’t she a little young?”
“Rather the not drinking, usually, thing,” Derek said. “She only drinks, like, water and fruit juice. Doesn’t like the taste of beer or wine.”
“But she’s okay with straight liquor,” Pag said, chuckling.
“Straight?” Olsen said.
“Drinks it like water,” Derek said. “Isn’t really into it cause it barely gives her a buzz. Just takes a couple shots ‘Is this supposed to be doing something?’ I’ve seen her drink enough to put down a Gunny and it not even faze her.”
“Damn,” Olsen said, laughing. “Okay, I guess she can be an officer.”
“As if it’s up to you to judge,” Derek said.
“She does have a tendency to pass out at a certain point,” Pagliaro said, snickering.
“Pass out?” Olsen said.
“First night we were clearing the Boadicea she practically face planted in her plate at dinner,” Pag said, laughing. “Like ‘I’ve got reports to write. . Snore. .’ ”
“She’s thirteen,” Derek said. “She’s still growing. I’m always surprised she hangs as long as she does. And, Pag, you were ten minutes behind her.”
“I get that,” one of the Marines said. “Clearing is fucking hell on your adrenal gland. I thought the Stan was bad.”
“Fuck, I’m a God damned airframe mechanic,” Olsen said. “This shit is for Oh-Three-Elevens.”
“We’re all infantry now,” Derek said. “At least, that’s the way Captain Carrion sees it. And he is another Smith I am not going to fuck with. Hooch says her dad is as badass as Faith. And that’s pretty fucking badass for a Navy Captain.”