SURVIVORS OF THE DEAD: FROM THE ASHES (30 page)

“I told you before, Harry,” Frank began, using Harry’s first name, “I was going to stick with you guys. Besides, you might need someone a little smarter than too old beat cops!” Frank’s ability to break the tension worked once again. Harry and Derrick both looked at him at the same time and smiled.

“Well, he’s right ya know,” Derrick said to Harry. “You’re already too old for this shit and I’m right at your rear bumper on that!”

“I would like to go as well,” James said to Harry’s surprise. “I’m from Ohio and have no family out here. Maybe once we get your family situated I might head on and see if any of mine are still alive.”

Before Harry could answer, another voice joined the conversation from the door of the visitor’s center. “You can count me in as well,” Phil said as he walked up to join the group. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Cecil wanted to find out if you guys were going to be in here all night.” Turning to Harry, he then said, “I can handle myself, Harry, and I want to help. There’s not much holding me here any longer. I grew up in San Francisco and am pretty sure all my family is dead. At least I haven’t been able to get in contact with anyone since this all started.” Phil went quiet after saying that.

Harry looked at each man in the room. Each of them willing to put their lives on the line for someone else without hesitation. This was no real surprise though. Each man there was a true professional and had always done what needed to be done. A couple of cops, a firefighter, and a National Guardsman. Harry felt a bit of shame for not taking into consideration that each of these men, as well as the other survivors, had lost family and friends over the past couple of weeks.

“I would be honored to stand with each of you, gentleman,” Harry said, pushing past the lump that had formed in his throat. “Frank, at first light I want that copter we saw inspected and, if it’s operational, brought here. Derrick, Phil, and James, please gather what supplies, weapons and ammunition the island can spare. We need to pack light to be able to move easily.” Taking a breath he then said, “We need to get some rest so let’s get this done quickly. Tomorrow is going to come sooner than we like.”

Each man acknowledged Harry’s instructions and went about what they needed to do. Harry met with Cecil and told him what James had to say, and what the men had planned. Cecil shared Harry’s wonderment that James had not only been in touch with Harry’s nephew but that he was actually among the survivors on Treasure Island, allowing him to give Harry this information.

“I’m not a particularly religious man, but this sure makes you wonder,” Cecil said after listening to Harry’s story. Harry could only nod his agreement.

At first light, Frank, along with Allison Hernandez and three others, made the hike to the helicopter on the other side of the island. They found it to be in perfect working order with nearly full tanks of fuel. There was no sign of the pilot, a mystery that they contemplated as they flew the bird back to Ayala Cove. While they were on that side of the island they’d also checked out the Coast Guard Station located on Point Blunt. It was abandoned, but the team was able to make entry into the main building. They did not find much but were able to collect a few basic medical supplies and found several doors securely locked. Frank passed that information along to Cecil.

It was 10:34 a.m.
when Harry, Derrick, Phil, and James walked down to the beach where the bright yellow helicopter sat. Frank and Allison were doing another preflight check as the other men approached. Earlier in the morning Allison had informed Harry that she would like to go along, offering that she could not only handle weapons but was a much more qualified pilot than Frank. Derrick jumped at the opportunity to kid Frank a bit and said he would be the first one to vote her in. After a bit of argument between Allison and Harry, an argument Harry knew he could not win, she hastily gathered some clothes and supplies and stowed it on the helicopter.

While Frank and
Allison went off to inspect the helicopter, Cecil and Harry pored over maps of the U.S. Harry knew they would have to keep away from large cities, so he came up with what he thought to be the best route to cross the nation. There were far too many variables they were certain to encounter, but he felt that the route he decided upon was the most logical. It was twenty-three hundred miles from the San Francisco Bay Area to Carmel, Indiana through a country now devastated and filled with horrors that Harry could not begin to comprehend. He had no idea what lay ahead, but his focus was clear. Nothing would stand in his way.

Cecil had brought up a very good point about the island while they talked about what was happening inland. “How do we let others know we are secure and a safe haven?” he’d asked.

That was a very good point. Both Harry and Ceil knew there had to be other survivors in the area. They weren’t equipped to undertake rescue operations, but they could let people know that Angel Island stood ready to offer safety if the survivors could reach it. Cecil had set up two teams that would patrol the coastline by boat from the Bay Bridge to the Golden Gate – teams that would be capable of picking up survivors from predetermined locations – but they needed a way for anyone inland to know where to go.

The equipment that Harry had seen the Guardsmen carrying when they picked them up from Treasure Island turned out to be military grade radio gear. Connected to the island’s generator, that equipment was able to transmit at least one hundred miles outside the immediate area
but it also had the ability to join with satellite communications. As long as there were still operating satellites. They had already picked up spotty radio traffic from the Bay Area. Some of it desperate calls for help, while others were calmly broadcasting descriptions of what they were seeing. Reports of marauders in Marin County begin to come in as well. That area was just north of San Francisco on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge.

“I think we should broadcast a message,” Harry offered. “Maybe every hour. Let people know Angel Island is here and able to offer help if, and only if, survivors can reach you. We have enough boats to pick up folks from the shorelines but we need to establish a way to do that. Giving people very clear instructions.”

“Any suggestions on what we might say?” Cecil asked after agreeing with Harry’s idea.

“Maybe.” Harry sat down and hastily wrote several paragraphs on a sheet of paper. Once he was done, he handed it to Cecil who quickly read it.

“I think this is a good start. We’ll modify it as things change here, and once we figure out the best locations for pickups, but at least we can use this to get the word out right now,” Cecil said. “I’ll get this over to the radio room right now.”

After delivering the script to the radio operator, the first broadcast from Angel Island was made. This message would be repeated every hour until the island was at capacity or until people stopped answering.

“This is Angel Island San Francisco Bay, located at 37.86N 122.43W. We are a group of civilians that have secured the island and are accepting survivors. For those on land in this area, your best hope is to secure some type of boat and get onto the Bay; we have learned the infected fear water. We are sending out daily patrols as far ranging as possible so we will find you. Ships entering the Bay from the Golden Gate entrance are required to drop anchor, contact us on this frequency, and wait for instructions before proceeding. There are safe docks and anchorages in the Bay, and you will be escorted to one of those locations for intake.

What remains of the Coast Guard and other military assets are spread thin, and so is their patience. If you encounter them, use caution when making initial contact. Yield to their directions precisely. However, do not expect direct assistance of any kind for the time being. You must help yourselves!

Do not, we repeat, DO NOT approach any mainland docks. This includes the San Francisco Marina, Embarcadero Piers, Sausalito, and Tiburon. These areas have not been secured and are infested with the infected. Wait for our patrols to escort you to secure areas.

Survivors are reporting marauders on the Marin County side of the Bay. Additional caution is strongly advised if you are traveling overland in that area. We have not heard anything from the South Bay approach. You should assume all land routes are unsecure. Do not enter San Francisco for any reason. It is completely overrun.

Avoid all contact with the infected by any means possible. Once they have seen you they will pursue relentlessly. We are all fighters, but for now we must survive.

This is Angel Island. You are not alone."

39

In the end, it took another day to get everything prepared for their departure
but the time had finally arrived. Most of the survivors on Angel Island came to the beach to see Harry and his team off. It took another forty-five minutes to get through the throng of well-wishers. Cecil knew that Harry was very anxious to get started, so he interceded and got everyone back to work.

Wanda had stood with Nevaeh out of sight from those on the beach. She’d already said her goodbyes to the group. She had the very distinct feeling she would never see Harry, Derrick, Frank, or the others again. This saddened her greatly and she offered a silent prayer for them. She then turned and headed back to the clinic where she had been assigned, thankful that she and her granddaughter, along with so many others, had been given a chance to live by those men.

Cecil walked the short distance to the waiting helicopter with Harry, chatting as they went. “You be careful, Harry. I know that sounds silly and I should be giving you a more rousing speech, but that’s really all I can come up with at the moment. Other than to thank you for helping give us a chance here.” Cecil hesitated for a moment. “You come back here if things don’t work out, okay?”

Harry considered what Cecil said for a moment. “I don’t know why I feel this way, but I don’t think I will be returning, my friend. I am at peace with that, funny as that may sound. I had a dream last night and I can’t tell you the last time I had one of those,” he said chuckling. “I dreamt that I found my family but then, like an out-of-body experience, I saw them all in great sorrow as they looked at a closed casket.” Kicking at a rock he saw on the sandy beach, he then said as he looked into Cecil’s eyes, “I wasn’t with them as they mourned. At least not standing with them. Anyway, I really have no idea what that means, but when I woke I had the feeling this would be the last time I would see this area.”

Cecil had nothing to offer the man in the way of comforting words. He extended his hand and, as Harry grasped it, Cecil pulled him into a hug. “You watch your six. We’ll keep you all in our thoughts and prayers. People will never forget now, or in the future, what you and the others have done here, Harry. That I can promise you!”

Harry disengaged himself from Cecil’s hug and put a hand on the older man’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. There was just nothing left to say.

Cecil turned on his heel and walked a short distance away from the copter. Harry watched as Derrick and James climbed on board the bird and began to strap themselves in. Derrick looked extremely nervous about being in the helicopter but was maintaining a brave front. Harry and Frank had been kidding him all morning about the pitfalls of flying in a copter.

Just as Harry was climbing in, he heard something in the distance. A sound he had not heard since the attack, causing him to immediately take several steps back away from the helicopter and look skyward. Harry heard the sound of a small airplane approaching!

Frank and Derrick joined Harry and, as they shielded their eyes against the bright sun which warmed the island, they watched as a small single-engine plane made a low pass over them and banked around to circle the island. Harry had never seen a plane like this one. It was white with a small cockpit that looked only big enough to seat a couple of people. The engine and propeller was attached to the rear tail section above the plane and to the rear of the wings.

“That’s a Seawind,” Frank said admiringly as the small plane passed overhead. “That thing is a beauty!” He went on to explain what he knew about the plane, but all Harry could understand was that it landed on water and had a fairly long-distance flying capability; and that Frank held the opinion that it was ‘sweet’.

“Who the hell is that?” Derrick asked, not expecting an answer.

“No idea,” Harry replied.

It sounded as if the plane was returning, and as Harry was attempting to figure out how they could contact the pilot, the Guardsman who was remaining on the island and maintaining the radio equipment came running onto the beach.

“We just made contact with that plane, sir,” the young soldier said excitedly as he caught his breath. “That’s Scott Allen and he claims to be part of a flotilla of survivors in Southern California. He is requesting permission to land and come ashore.”

Cecil had rejoined Harry just as the plane passed overhead. This time Harry was able to see that two people were in the cockpit, albeit not clearly. “Cecil, if this is who he claims to be, your day just became a lot more interesting,” Harry remarked as he watched the plane bank around the island once again. “Scott Allen is the guy who gave that interview on GNN. I would suggest that you at least make contact with him. I have no idea why he would be up here, but you should probably find out. I can’t delay any longer and need to take off.”

“We’ll take care of it, Harry,” Cecil replied.