Rotter Nation (14 page)

A soft hand against Windows’ shoulder brought her out of her slumber. At first, she didn’t realize someone was trying to wake her because of the deep sleep she had been in, the result of not having to satisfy Meat the night before. The nudging continued until Windows stirred and groaned.

“Miss Windows, are you awake?”

“I am now.” She rolled over. Cindy knelt beside her. “What’s up?”

“Can you help me? Something happened to my mother.”

Windows sat up and threw off the folds of the sleeping bag. “What happened?”

“Something bad.”

When Windows got up, Cindy took her hand. She led Windows out of the container unit and toward the far end of the compound near the kitchen. The first rays of sunlight streaked across the eastern horizon. Everyone was still inside, either sleeping off their drunken binges from the night before or, in the case of the women, resting up after another night of abuse. Cindy maneuvered through the landscape without concern, either oblivious in her youth to the dangers it posed, or showing an incredible ability to adapt.

They reached the end of the compound. Cindy turned the corner at the end of the row of storage units and pointed ahead of her without saying a word.

Windows let go of Cindy’s hand and covered her mouth, stifling a scream.

Debra dangled from one of the light fixtures bolted into the top of the perimeter wall. One end of a rope was anchored to the fixture, the other end forming a noose around Debra’s neck. A wooden stool lay overturned by her feet.

Windows’ initial shock turned to anger. She knelt down and turned Cindy to face her. “Who did this to your mother?”

“She did it to herself.”

The nonchalant manner in which Cindy spoke the words caught Windows off guard. “Why did she commi… do this?”

“She had a fight with Meat last night. Meat told my mother he wanted to break up with her. They argued for a few minutes, and Meat told her to shut up and go back to the Clubhouse or he would see that both of us went on the Line.”

Windows fought back the urge to vomit.

“After that, Mom took me to the kitchen. We stayed there for a few minutes while she found some rope. She told me to wait there until either she returned or you showed up for work, gave me a big hug and kiss, and left.”

“You didn’t listen to her.”

Cindy shook her head. “When she didn’t come back, I went looking for her and found her like this. I figured it was bad, so I came to get you.”

Windows glanced over to the corpse hanging from the light fixture. Flies had already started to swarm around the body. She didn’t know if she should be angry at Debra for taking the easy way out, or envious that she had the courage to end this nightmare. Not knowing what to do, she clasped Cindy’s hand in her own.

Cindy reached into her pocket with her free hand and withdrew a sheet of paper carelessly folded several times. She handed it to Windows. “Mom wrote this before she left. She asked me to give it to you.”

Windows took the piece of paper. “Did you read it?”

“No.”

Windows unfolded the letter and began to read:

By now you’ve found my body. You probably think I’m a coward. I guess in a way I am, but I’m doing this for Cindy. I’ve known for some time that Meat was getting bored with me. Usually when one of these assholes gets tired of us, we either become gang rape fodder or are banished to the Line. I couldn’t let that happen to Cindy. When you came along, I saw the chance to provide for her safety. Meat likes you and will take good care of you, in his twisted way. He always protected Cindy from the others when he was with me. I’m hoping he’ll do the same for her now that he’s with you. Please adopt Cindy as your own and take care of her. Always tell her I love her. And no matter what you think of me, please don’t bad mouth me to Cindy. I would say God bless the both of you, but I stopped believing in Him when I got to this place. So instead I’ll wish you the best of luck.

Windows could barely read the last few sentences through her tears. She refolded the letter and shoved it into her back pocket.

Cindy squeezed her hand. “It’s okay to cry. I used to do it all the time when I first got here.”

Windows ran her palms across her face. “Why don’t you cry now?”

“Why bother? It doesn’t do any good.” Cindy paused for a second. “Who’s going to take care of me now?”

“I am, if that’s okay with you.”

Cindy nodded her head and hugged Windows tight. “I’d like that.”

Windows wrapped her arms around the girl and gently rocked her, outwardly showing strength. Inside, however, fear gripped her. She knew the degrading things Debra had done to protect Cindy, and wondered if she had enough courage to do the same.

The knocking on the cabin door roused Natalie out of her restless sleep. She ran her hand across her face and rubbed her tired eyes. Twisting her neck from one side to the other, she felt the muscles strain. A deep yawn escaped from her mouth, and she opened her eyes to see Sandy standing in the doorway.

“Is it shift change already?” asked Natalie.

“Nope. Emily wants you to come to the bridge.”

“Oh, fuck.” Natalie shoved herself out of the chair by Bethany’s bed. Her arms were so tired she almost fell back into the cushions. “What now?”

“This is something you’ll want to see.”

Natalie followed Sandy. The sun had risen and sat low on the horizon, nearly blinding her when she came on deck. She stumbled, trying to see through squinted eyes, and banged her shin against a deck chair. By the time she reached the flying bridge, her eyes had adjusted to the light.

Ari stood behind the wheel, with Emily standing to the left holding a pair of binoculars. Natalie moved in between them. “What’s up?”

Emily pointed straight ahead. “That.”

A massive container ship floated two miles in the distance. “Big deal. It’s another derelict. What’s so special about it?”

Emily handed her the binoculars. “See for yourself.”

Natalie lifted them to her eyes. The container shop had run aground on a sandbar, with approximately one hundred feet of its bow lodged onto the sand. A Coast Guard cutter was tethered to the vessel’s starboard beam near the stern. She saw no signs of movement, either living or living dead.

“I don’t get it.” 

“That container vessel didn’t get hung up on the sandbar because it was adrift. It had to have been moving at a pretty good speed to run aground like that. And that Coast Guard cutter has fuel lines running from the container ship, which means there’s probably fuel aboard one of those two ships.”

“Thank God. What’s our situation?”

“We’re practically riding on fumes, honey.”

The fuel situation had been precarious for most of the trip. They had been fortunate in finding a fueling station on an isolated portion of Nantucket that allowed them to fully replenish their tanks. However, after that it became hit or miss. Every station they stumbled upon had been infested with rotters, forcing them to siphon off what little fuel they could scavenge from derelict small boats. Finding the container ship was fortunate. Now, if only their luck held and it still had fuel on board.

Natalie scanned both the container ship and the cutter, panning their decks for anything unusual. Corpses, dried blood smears, debris, evidence of a battle, anything that might provide a clue as to what happened to the men aboard the two ships. Yet everything looked normal, which bothered her. Nothing was normal any more.

“What do you think?” asked Emily.

“We’re limited in our options.” Natalie lowered the binoculars. “Do you know how you transfer fuel from one ship to another?”

“I do. We’re going to have to go below deck to do it.”

“Shit.” Natalie thought for a moment. “Go get the Angels, and have them bring their weapons. I want to make certain we’re ready for anything.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

Emily rushed off to get the Angels, and Natalie went back to studying the two vessels. A large access hatch sat open on the starboard beam of the container vessel, about fifteen feet above the cutter’s main deck. A large hose draped over the bottom of the hatch, dropped down onto the cutter, and wormed its way along the deck before disappearing behind the superstructure. She couldn’t see any movement aboard either vessel and, as far as she could tell, both were deserted.

A few minutes later, Emily returned with her M-16A2 slung over her shoulder. “The rest of the girls will be here shortly.”

“I don’t get it. Why would the Coast Guard just abandon one of its ships?”

Emily shrugged. “Maybe one of the engines broke down. Or the crew transferred to a larger vessel. Who cares as long as it has gas?”

The rest of the Angels came topside just as Ari cut back power and maneuvered the yacht alongside the Coast Guard cutter’s access ladder. Emily grabbed one of the dock lines and moored the yacht to the cutter. Ari shut down the engine, and everything went quiet. Natalie listened for the telltale moan of rotters. The only sound came from the water slapping against the side of the yacht.

“Ari, you stay here and be prepared to move out if anything happens. We’re going on board.”

Emily placed her hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here within Ari and make sure everything is okay topside? I’ll take care of things aboard the cutter.”

As much as she wanted to be involved, Natalie knew Emily was right. Emily knew about ships and how they operated, and could handle this. Natalie would only get in the way and slow things down as the Angels looked to her to give orders. Reluctantly, she nodded her approval.

Emily boarded the cutter. One by the one, the Angels followed.

Ari saw the concern on her friend’s face and leaned closer. “Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.”

“I know.” Deep down she thought,
I hope you’re right
.

* * *

When the Angels had gathered on the cutter’s main deck just aft of the superstructure, Emily motioned for them to move closer. “Chances are this ship is abandoned, but I don’t want to take any chances. Stephanie and Josephine, you’re with me. The rest of you stay here and keep your eyes open. If anything happens, start shooting and we’ll come running.”

The rest of the girls spread out, and Emily led Stephanie and Josephine across to the port side of the superstructure.

“Do you think this is safe?” asked Stephanie. “I mean, just the three of us going below?”

“We don’t have to go that far.” Emily pointed to the hose. After emerging from the container vessel, it snaked around the cutter’s superstructure before disappearing into an open hatch. “If the fuel tanks were below, those hoses would have gone through a hatch on deck. What we want is right behind this bulkhead.”

Emily raised her M-16A2 and inched her way along the superstructure, the other two Angels close behind. She paused by the open hatch long enough to take a deep breath to steady her nerves, and then centered herself in the hatchway. She exhaled audibly. Turning to the other women, she gave them a thumbs up and entered. Stephanie and Josephine followed.

Four large fuel tanks filled the space, two on the port side and two starboard, the fuel hose attached to the tank on the far end. Removing a flashlight attached to a wall mount by the hatch, Emily switched it on and walked along the line of fuel tanks to port. She bent over to check out the first fuel gauge.

“Empty.”

She moved down to the next one.

“Empty.”

She crossed over to the starboard tanks.

“Empty.”

“Fuck,” mumbled Josephine. “This was a waste of time.”

Emily stood in front of the last tank and grinned. “No, it isn’t.”

“You’re serious?” asked Stephanie. “It has fuel?”

“More than enough.” Emily made her way back to the women and offered a flirtatious wink. “Ladies, get ready. We’re about to be pumped.”

* * *

It took less than twenty minutes to make the preparations. Emily followed the fuel line along the deck, finding a segmented break just underneath where the hose exited the open hatch in the container vessel. Unscrewing the connection, she dragged the hose onto the yacht and attached the lose end to their own fuel tank. Leaving Stephanie aboard the yacht with a two-way radio to let her know when they were full, Emily went back aboard the cutter and switched on the generator that powered the pump. It made an unbearably loud noise and disrupted the calm of the ocean. None of the Angels cared. It was worth it to see the pulsing of the hose transferring fuel into their yacht.

Emily and Josephine were standing in front of the pump and fuel tank checking on the process of the transfer when Sarah stuck her head through the open hatch. “I’m going to check out the rest of the ship and see if there’s anything worth salvaging.”

“Don’t press your luck,” warned Emily.

“Normally I wouldn’t, but they may have some antibiotics and morphine for Bethany.”

Emily couldn’t argue with that. She pointed to the two remaining wall-mounted flashlights. “Take those with you. And for God’s sake, honey, be careful.”

“I will.” Sarah pulled the flashlights off the wall and exited the space.

* * *

Sarah met up with the rest of the Angels on the port beam of the main deck by the hatch leading into the superstructure. She pointed to Amy and Katie. “You two are with me. We’re going below to check on the crew quarters. The rest of you take the main deck.”

“What are we looking for?” asked Tiara.

Sarah handed Tiara and Sandy the other two flashlights. “Mainly antibiotics or painkillers for Bethany. If you see anything we can use, take it. And for God’s sake, don’t take any chances. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

Sarah flicked on the flashlight, removed her hunting knife from its sheath, and stepped inside the superstructure. A set of stairs led up to the pilot house and down to the lower deck. She stood at the top of the stairs and flashed the light below. She heard no sounds and saw no signs of movement, so she descended halfway down, pausing just long enough to direct the beam along the corridor. Nothing. She waved on the others and proceeded ahead, shining the beam on the nearest doors. The one to starboard bore a sign that read Secure Communications. The one to port said Storage.

Sarah stepped toward the latter. “This is what we want.”

She knocked three times and received no response from the other side. Grabbing the knob, she said to Amy and Katie. “Ready?”

Both women unslung their M-16A2s and raised them into firing position. Sarah opened the door and jumped back. Nothing emerged from the room. Inching forward, she splayed the light around. She saw boxes of canned goods, toilet paper, spare clothes, and the like. Typical military fare and nothing fancy; however, in this post-apocalyptic world, a virtual treasure.

“What should we do with this?” asked Katie.

“Leave it for now. We can load it aboard the yacht after we’ve checked out the rest of the ship.” Sarah led the way out of the storage room and down the main corridor.

Twelve doors stretched ahead of them, six on either bulkhead. Approaching the first door on the left, the women used the same procedure as with the store room – three knocks, wait, and then enter while being prepared for the worst. The cabin contained two bunks, both neatly made up to regulation standards, and showed no sign of a struggle or hasty departure. Sarah stepped over to the first locker, which was secured with a padlock. The second was not locked. Opening it, she showed the light around. Several pictures of a middle-aged couple with a young girl of around fourteen were taped to the inner door, more than likely the owner’s family. Coast Guard uniforms and civilian clothes rested on hangers. A few personal belongings sat on the top shelf, such as a shaving kit, a Kindle, and a cigar box. Pulling the box off the shelf, she opened it. Inside she found letters, a watch, and other trinkets that at one time had obvious significance to the owner. Placing the cigar box back on the shelf, Sarah closed the locker and exited the cabin.

The three women checked the next eleven doors, finding either more cabins or heads. When they finished with the last cabin, Amy asked, “What now?”

“We get the rest of the Angels and bring the supplies to the yacht.”

* * *

Sandy and Tiara led the way down the main deck corridor inside the superstructure, with Doreen and Virginia following behind, M-16A2s at the ready. Tiara and Doreen checked the two doors opposite the stairs, knocking and waiting for a response before entering. The rooms turned out to be crews’ quarters and a head. Moving farther along the corridor, the bulkhead opened up into the galley.

“This is more like it,” said Doreen.

Sandy tapped Virginia on the shoulder. “Stay here and keep your eyes open. We’re going to see if there’s any food.”

Sandy and Tiara entered the galley, with Doreen providing fire support. The twin freezers stood to the rear off to the left. Sandy approached the first one, rapped on the heavy metal door, and, when she got no response, pulled on the handle. When the door opened, the heavy stench of rot and decay poured out into the galley.

“Jesus Christ!” Sandy jumped back, slamming her back against the metal bulkhead. Doreen ran in front of her and aimed the M-16A2 into the freezer. No rotters stumbled out. Sandy inched forward and directed the flashlight inside. The stench came from the meat that had thawed and decayed once power had been cut off. Doreen closed the door.

Virginia rushed up. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m jittery, that’s all.” Sandy let her heart stop racing. “Let’s check out the rest of the deck.”

Once back in the corridor, they proceeded to the next door on the right. A plaque attached to the front read Office. Sandy stood in front of it and knocked. As expected, she got no response, so she opened the door and flashed the light around. The room appeared immaculate, almost as if no one had ever used it. A safe mounted in the opposite wall had attached to it a red magnet emblazoned with the word CLOSED in white. Even the desk drawers were shut tight. Sandy played the light around the office until the beam fell across a wall-mounted cabinet with a red cross surrounded by a white circle. She stepped over to it and jiggled the handle. It was locked.