“None,” Isham said, shaking his head. “It’s not a power grab. Everything that can be got under control is under control. Just…trust me on that and get some rest.”
“I want to drink myself to sleep,” Steve said.
“Hang on,” Isham said. “Hang on to that grab rail and just stand there. We’re going to wash you down out here.”
“Makes sense,” Steve said. He was covered in wet weather gear top to bottom. “The guns are going to need…”
“To be cleaned off in fresh water, dried really well and then lubed up really well,” Isham said, backing up the stairs. “Just let them wash you down…”
* * *
“Steve,” Stacey said, hugging him. “Oh… God…”
“It’s bad,” Steve said, nodding. “I’m really regretting bringing Faith onboard.”
“She’s having a lot of problems with the…” She stopped and grimaced. “She likes the zombie hunting…”
“I’m going to switch her to that as purely as possible,” Steve said, nodding. “I mean, there are horrors to that. But this has been… Different.”
The cabin was excellent. Steve wasn’t sure how Isham had procured the materials to return it to if not its former glory than very liveable. But it was nice. And the meal that had been waiting for him after his long, hot, shower looked really, really good. He wasn’t sure that he could eat it, though.
“You have to eat,” Stacey said.
“Reading my mind?” Steve asked, smiling faintly.
“Always,” Stacey said.
“Talk to me about something,” Steve said, taking a forkful of the dish. He wasn’t sure what it was but it was excellent. “When did Chris go back to being a cook?”
“That’s Sari,” Stacey said, smiling.
“The one that was on here?” Steve asked, then winced. The horrors of the Voyage had nearly blotted out how bad the Alpha had been when they boarded.
“She’s a really good cook,” Stacey said. “And Mike is overseeing the maintenance on the weapons and gear. I made sure they were all clear. He knew how to clear them but I checked first. He’s going to fine tooth them.”
“How’s Isham doing?” Steve asked. “This is the sort of thing I need to talk about.”
“Doing fine,” Stacey said. “He found one of the SSLs that’s a premier scrounger who turned up, among other things, boxes of Cuban cigars. Isham’s up in Mickerberg’s old office smoking big black cigars and running things like he’s General Patton. It’s funny to watch in a way. I think until this came up he really wasn’t… In the game? But now he is. And he’s doing a good job at it.”
“Keep an eye on him,” Steve said.
“I am,” Stacey said, shrugging. “But when we had a moment alone he brought it up. And he pointed out that you’re the one with the subs backing you. That headquarters gave you the authority. Not him. He said ‘Broken down and busted or not, I’m not going try to buck the United States Government. It’s still got nuclear weapons.’”
“Now that sounds like it might be honesty,” Steve said.
* * *
“Okay, wow,” Faith said, shoveling down the breakfast. “This is really good. Do I want to know what it is?”
“Eggs,” Sari said, laying the plates out for the clearance team. “With more eggs.”
There were the scrambled eggs, which were awesome, a really good canned fruit salad and fried potatoes. There was even fresh baked english muffins. With butter.
“It’s got a bit of a fishy taste but a good one,” Fontana said. “What’s the meat? It tastes like…lobster?”
“Scrambled eggs with lobster,” Sari said. “And some secret ingredients.”
“I’m going to let you keep the secrets,” Steve said, looking out the window of the “dinette.” The small compartment, relatively it being the Alpha, had a good view of the growing flotilla of boats working on the Voyage. He could even see the Campbell drifting in the distance. The Alpha and Grace had rendezvoused with it overnight and transferred clearance materials as well as medical supplies. Fortunately, it had lots of both. The cutter had seemed like a big ship when they first cleared it. Now they had a new appreciation for “big.” But for its relatively small size, it was absolutely packed with disaster material. Which made sense given its jobs.
“Today is pure clearance,” Steve said.
“Oh, thank God,” Faith said. “Wait… Zombie killing clearance or checking cabins clearance?”
“Zombie killing clearance,” Steve said. “We’re going to sweep all of the remaining untouched areas on the port side cabin zone, then work our way across the ship and sweep the starboard side. If we run into survivors doing that, unlikely, we’ll call for extraction or extract them ourselves. The Coast Guard personnel are going to manage the extraction in cleared areas and provide security. That’s mostly for the people doing the actual removal.”
“I can handle that,” Faith said. “Sorry, but I’m just…”
“Nothing, at all, to be sorry about, Faith,” Fontana said. “This is getting to me. And I thought I’d seen pretty much every horror possible in Iraq and Afghanistan. The fact that you’re not completely round the bend is pretty remarkable.”
“I know the Trixie thing is freaking people out,” Faith said, shrugging. “But…”
“It’s a way for you to compartmentalize,” Steve said, nodding. “People who do this sort of thing have to do that. Everyone does. You just happen to have an outward expression. The question, since you raise it, is are you going to be okay continuing?”
“I’m fine if it’s killing zombies,” Faith said, shrugging. “And I can handle the usual sort of stuff. But Hooch had to take over checking the cabins. I… I can’t do that right now. Even finding live ones… Half the time I was like: What’s the point?”
“We’ve lost some,” Steve said. He’d had a quick briefing that morning before breakfast. “And according to the doctors at the CDC we’ll probably lose some more over the next week. But most of them are making it. We’re saving people. But for today… We’ll just blow some zombies away.”
“That’ll help,” Faith said, grinning.
“Weaponry,” Steve said. “There are some large areas we’ll be clearing. Despite my fear of bouncers, I think we need at least one rifle. There are sure to be more security zombies and we need to start conserving our shotgun rounds to the extent it’s possible. Sergeant Fontana, you’ll carry that.”
“Roger, sir,” Fontana said. “Any word on the ammo from the Campbell.”
“We got a resupply of two hundred rounds of shotgun,” Steve said, grimacing. “That was all that was in the ready locker or found scattered onboard. There’s a magazine but it’s apparently a vault. And nobody can find the keys. And since it’s a magazine…”
“You can’t exactly cut it open with a blow torch,” Fontana said.
“There’s a team looking for the keys at the moment,” Steve said. “According to what I got, there should be two thousand more rounds of twelve gauge in there. Another reason to use the rifles whenever possible. We have, also, a limited amount of seven six two but we’re currently better on that than on shotgun. So when it’s possible, Sergeant Fontana will take the shot. Please make sure that all rounds go into the target.”
“I will,” Fontana said. “But you get bouncers from shotgun as well.”
“They tend to be caught by the body armor,” Steve said. “And the spots not covered by armor that are likely to kill us are small. With the exception of the face, of course. Which is why in addition to all the other stuff we’re carrying, we’re going to be adding ballistic face shields. The Campbell had six onboard. They’ve already been mounted to the helmets.
“Kuzma has set up a fresh-water decontamination shower on the lifeboat deck, forward. If we get as bloodied up as we did yesterday, Faith, we’ll run through that. There’s also a forward support post set up with food, water and ammo, and we can drop back to it and take a break. One thing we’re going to have to look for is a forward point that we can set up as a permanent secure point on the Voyage. Not too big, not too small, some exterior light and most of all secure.”