More turned up as the Marines continued their clearance of the local area. There were more bursts of fire, at one point a lot of fire, but nothing on the radio. So far, so good.
“Division, Team Shewolf, over.”
“Shewolf, Division.”
“All the target buildings are clear. No injuries to refugees or Marines. We are bringing the last group back to Seawolf hand-off at this time.”
“Roger, Shewolf. Good job. Seawolf, how’s it coming with the infirm? Haven’t seen any of those over the side, over?”
“I still haven’t seen the stretchers turn up, Division,” Sophia replied.
“Let me check on the stretchers, over.”
“Division, Seawolf. Thinking about it, unless they’re in really bad health, I really think that the stretchers are a sub-optimal choice. We just lower them on a rope. Unless they physically can’t take it.”
“Shewolf, Division. Are you back in contact with the climbing guy, yet, over?”
“Not yet, Division. Moving this last group of refugees.”
“Contact him and check on what Seawolf is suggesting, over.”
“Aye, aye, Division.”
* * *
“Gotcha, ma’am,” Derek said, balancing the woman as she reached the ground.
The elderly Spanish lady was bitching about something a mile a minute in Spanish. Derek’s Spanish was limited to “Dos cervesas, por favor” and “¿Cuál es el costo de un rapidito?”
“Any idea what she’s saying, ma’am?” he asked the Lieutenant.
“Do you call this a rescue? Where are the helicopters? Who are you people? Are you really from the United States? I don’t believe it. Where are your ships? Where have you been all this time?” the Lieutenant translated. She said something in Spanish and the woman babbled back at her, just as angrily. There was some back and forth and the woman finally stopped, shaking her head. She patted the Lieutenant on the arm then pulled Derek’s face down and kissed him on the cheek.
“What was that for?” Derek asked.
“I told her she’s looking at half the remaining United States Marine Corps,” the Lieutenant said. “Now carry her over to the ladder. We’re going to have to belay her down there as well. Then probably through the building.”
“Hola! Hola!” a voice said from above them.
Rapelling down the rope was a very tan and handsome man in his late twenties. He landed with a bounce and waved and bowed as if wearing a broad hat.
“Senor Javier Eduardo Estrada, at your service, bella senorita!”
It was only when he hit the ground that it was apparent he was shorter than the Lieutenant.
“My boat is the Bella Senorita,” the Lieutenant replied. “I am Lieutenant Sophia Smith of the United States Navy.”
“Lieutenant Smith?” the man said then pointed upwards. “Teniente Smith?”
“My sister,” Sophia said.
“Ah, the resemblance is notable,” Estrada said, then held out a hand at chest height. “Except for the height.”
“You’re one to talk,” the Lieutenant said, chuckling. “Maybe because it’s not such a long way down for me to look, I’m the one that can handle them. Corporal. If you’d move Mrs. Alvarado over to the ladder, please? We get her all the way to the boats and I think we’re done.”
“Not before time, ma’am,” Derek said. “Sun’s going down.”
“And the zombies like the dark, no?” Estrada said. “Perhaps it is best to hurry.”
CHAPTER 22
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
“Please God, we don’t have another evolution like that one,” Corporal Douglas said. “I am fricking beat!”
The sun had set on the town of Las Corrillas, “the trickle,” and all the survivors that were recoverable were tucked away in the large yacht that had brought down the Marines. Sophia had invited the Marines over to her boat to hang for a while before they moved out to the next town.
“I think in retrospect we should have just fought our way through town,” Sophia said. “But that’s both retrospect and I don’t do that stuff.”
“I’m not sure I agree, ma’am,” Staff Sergeant Januscheitis said. “We hit some big concentrations up on the hill. And that was a hell of a lot of survivors. Getting them down in vehicles would have been as much of a pain in the ass. And walking them would have been out of the question.”
“Yeah,” Faith said, sipping a cup of tea. “Infected density was higher than you realize, sis. Most of them didn’t make it down to your teams. They were trying to find a way down. Which meant they were in our way.” She drained the tea and stood up. “Sis, thanks for hosting my guys and for the beer. But we need to get back to the boat. We’re headed back to Santa whatever to go, ugh, clear more liners.”
“Take care of yourself, sis,” Sophia said, giving her a hug. “And don’t let that Spanish climber talk you out of your pants.”
“He is cute isn’t he?” Faith said, grinning.
“Senorita, Division.”
“Division, Senorita,” Sophia said, picking up the radio.
“Need to get the Marines back over to their boat. We are pulling out in thirty.”
“Roger, Division. The party was just breaking up. Senorita, out.”
“So where you going next?” Faith asked, headed to the away boat.
“Las Galletas,” Sophia said. “Know nothing about it except ‘intel’ suggests there are some useable boats. Nothing about survivors.”
“You be careful,” Faith said, giving her a hug again before getting on the boat. “Especially with all these mall ninjas.”
“We’ll get it done,” Sophia said. “Da wants boats and survivors, we’ll get him boats and survivors… ”
* * *
“We’re definitely not clearing this one. Definitely not.”
They’d arrived at the town of Candelaria just before dawn. Which wasn’t good. It meant they couldn’t draw any of the infected in to a kill zone. And there were going to be infected. The town was huge, at least as big as Las Corrillas. But there were some big yachts in the basin. The question was whether they could get them out. They’d been told to just anchor off-shore and wait for dawn. It was dawn. And it was a damned pretty one. But it didn’t mean the boats were any closer to being in their hands. And there were infected moving around.
“Senorita. Take your away boat and go recon. See if we can cut these yachts out. I’m told recon indicates some good deep water inflatables as well. Check on them.”
“Roger, Division,” Sophia said, her face working. “One question, Division, define ‘cut out,’ over.”
“Remind me to assign you some reading material, Senorita. See if we can go in and grab them without actually mixing it up, much, with infected, over.”
“Oh, sure, that should be easy,” Sophia said. “Olga, gear up. I want somebody besides me on this run.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Crunch,” Olga said, saluting. “Gearing up!”
* * *
There were the usual bunch of sailboats in the harbor. Probably more than normal. But there were also two big motor yachts. They were both rigged as sport fishers but one was at least a 65 and the other was enormous, probably a 90 or better.
There were nine or ten big off-shore inflatables. They were rigged for fishing as well. It was apparent that sport fishing was a big industry in the area. But they’d be really useful as general purpose “get-around” boats. Better than her dinghy, that was for sure.