The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel (20 page)

Guy swallowed a lump in his throat. He had already
made his mind up about deserting and heading to the U.K., but how far was he willing
to go? And how far would his crew be willing to go? Would he allow them to get
into a firefight with their own countrymen, just to save his children? No, he
couldn’t do it. He would have to relinquish command. There was no other option.

I’m so sorry Kyle and Alice.

“Fuck them,” said Frank.

Guy looked at his Chief Petty in shock. “You don’t
agree with them? What about your belief in the chain of command?”

“Fuck the chain of command. The chain of command allowed
two-thirds of our Navy to get obliterated at Norfolk. It’s you who has kept us
all safe. We rescued those goddamn blue dicks and this is how they repay us? Any
man tries to board this ship will have to go through me.”

The crew looked worried, but none said anything. Guy
looked at Tosco, who still had his arms folded. The lieutenant glanced over at
the Augusta, then back at Guy. “Those lightweights think they can come aboard
and take control of our ship, give orders to my men, they got another thing coming.
I say we line up and prevent them from boarding.”

“We can’t beat them,” said Guy, laying it on the
line. His crew had earned that much. “They have more guns and a thicker hull.
If we get into a firefight, we can’t win.”

“Don’t have to win,” said Frank. “Just make it
clear that we’re more trouble than it’s worth. They might take this ship from
us, but we can make sure they won’t have enough men left to run it.”

“We can also make sure that our first bullet takes
out Hernandez,” said Tosco.

Guy straightened up, pride swelling in his chest. “Okay.
Lieutenant, get everyone armed and lined up against the railings. Frank, back
on that MG.”

“It’s out of ammo.”

“So is the other one, but the men aboard the
Augusta don’t know that.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

The men got busy, reloading their weapons and
forming up along the rails. Bloated demon corpses littered the deck, but were
forgotten for now as the USCG Hatchet had a new enemy: The USS Augusta.

The Augusta drifted in close enough that the hulls
of the two ships were almost touching. Its marines lined up along the railing,
but they were not pointing rifles—yet. A small man stood amongst them, unarmed.
His officer’s uniform and Hispanic complexion led Guy to assume that he was Lieutenant
Hernandez in the flesh.

“Tell your men to stand aside, Captain Granger. I hereby
seize this vessel in the name of the United States Navy.”

Guy stood at the railing, also without a weapon—two
generals meeting across the battlefield. “Your access is denied, Lieutenant
Hernandez. I am the captain of this ship, and my word is law. Be grateful for
your rescue and take your men wherever you choose, but they will not come
aboard this ship.”

“You have American citizens on board. Do you plan
on kidnapping them?”

“No man or woman is here against their will. In fact,
any who wish to join you now may do so.” Guy turned around to look at the
civilians, but not one of them stepped forward to leave.

“You have them scared,” Hernandez remarked.

“Considering you were all but dead in the water when
we arrived, I think maybe it’s you they are afraid of. The men on this ship
survived the attack on New York, the attack on Norfolk, and now the attack on
the USS Augustus. They are safer with me than anywhere else. They are survivors
and—as my own Lieutenant called them earlier—warriors. We came to aid you in
your time of need when running away would’ve been easier. My crew is fearless
and ferocious. Come aboard if you dare, Lieutenant.”

Hernandez laughed like a hyena. “You really think
you will win a fight against my ship, Captain? You don’t stand a chance.”

“Perhaps, but are you willing to lose the men it
will take to put us down? I promise that for every one of us you take, we’ll
take three of yours. We have two machine guns and my ship’s main gun aimed at
you, not to mention about a hundred rifles. I’m over-manned, you see. That’s
what happens when you win fights—you get stronger. I look at your crew,
Lieutenant, and all I see is fear and exhaustion. They have lost their
commander and inherited you. How long do you think they will tolerate your
command if you force them to kill fellow Americans? Fellow Americans who just
saved their lives. Or perhaps they won’t have to tolerate you much longer.
Maybe the very first shot fired will be right at your forehead. You’re a pretty
good shot, aren’t you, Lieutenant Tosco?”

Tosco raised his riflescope to his eye and
grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain. I can shoot the nutsack off a navy officer from a
hundred metres. In fact, I’m ready to pull the trigger right now.”

Hernandez tried to respond but tripped over his
own words and ended up offering nothing but bluster. He shifted uncomfortably
and retreated a step, as he no doubt felt Tosco’s sights falling on him. It
sent the wrong message to his men, who all suddenly seemed completely unsure of
themselves.

Guy didn’t want to undermine the Lieutenant too
much. The man still had a Navy frigate to command, and his help would be sorely
needed back on the coast. “Look, Commander Hernandez, I see you’re a good man—a
good American—but after Norfolk, it became every man for himself. We all need
to do whatever we can in whatever way we can to make a difference. The Hatchet
is crossing the Atlantic, and we will lend our help wherever it is needed, just
like we did to save your ship, but we will make our own way and decide our own
fate. It’s survival now, don’t you see? There’s not going to be any great war
because we’ve already lost. There’s no more United States, there’s just us—people.
All that is left is resistance, and no resistance ever worked by following
empty orders. It will only work by doing what needs to be done when it needs
doing. Take your ship, and do whatever you can to help, but if you try to fight
us you’re only helping the enemy.”

Hernandez seemed to mull it over for a long, long
time, struggling to find words and scratching at his head. Guy wished the man was
more decisive, quicker to reply, for it showed his lack of confidence by
thinking so hard in front of his men. Eventually, he found something to say,
and it was less rational than Guy had hoped for, but it was sufficient. “I
consider you a traitor to your country, Captain Granger, but I will not command
my men to fire on fellow Americans. I disagree about the war being lost. It has
only just begun. Your country requires your ship and your crew, but I can see
that you have brainwashed them to abandon their beliefs—and even stand by while
you deny the existence of the United States. I will not risk lives, but when
America is victorious, men like you will be strung up for cowardice. If you
have any honour at all, you will step down now, Captain Granger, but I don’t
expect that you will.”

Guy sneered. “The last thing anybody aboard my
ship is guilty of is cowardice. I wish you a safe journey, Commander Hernandez.
Do try to keep your men alive. We won’t be there to rescue you next time.”

Hernandez turned away and disappeared from sight.

Guy kept his crew lined up along the railings,
ready for a fight, but was relieved when the Augusta moved away. Bloated
corpses fell into the sea as its crew jettisoned them into the water.

“We should do the same,” said Frank. “God knows
what diseases these things might carry. Even if they don’t, I don’t fancy
having to look at them.”

Guy gave the order for everyone to kick and shove
the demon corpses overboard. Their slimy carcasses left behind slick trails of
blood and seawater. Many of the sailors gagged.

“Yikes,” cried Frank. “This one looks like my
aunt.”

The men all laughed and gagged a little less.

Guy took a moment to study his enemy close up. The
shrivelled up penis dangling between its flabby grey thighs gave no ambiguity
as to its sex. Had it been a man once? Its dead eyes were strangely human.

“We got a live one over here!” Someone shouted.

Guy glanced across the deck to see that one of the
demons was back on its feet, stalking after one of the civilians. It was badly
injured—one arm hanging attached by a thread. Guy had no weapon, but he hurried
to help. Frank and Tosco did the same. The creature was missing an eye, but the
remaining one bore into them with hatred. In a slurping voice, it spoke to them.
“We will drag your souls into Hell and violate your bodies.”

Guy sighed. “Will somebody please kill this
thing?”

Frank lifted a handgun from by his side. He pulled
the trigger three times, and the demon reeled back, spilling over the port side
railing and disappearing into the ocean.

“They’re here to exterminate us, aren’t they?”
muttered Tosco.

“Yes,” said Guy. “They are.”

Frank tucked the gun into his waistband and spat
over the side of the ship. “They’re welcome to try, but I’m not going down
without a fi-”

Frank’s head shuddered and his left eye
disappeared in a flash of red. He slumped against the railing, exposing the
wide-open crater at the back of his skull. A loud
crack
skipped across
the ocean.

“Sniper!” Somebody shouted.

Tosco lunged at Guy and shoved him to the ground
just as another shot was fired. The lieutenant took the bullet high up on his body
and flipped backwards like an acrobat. Guy was forced to watch, stunned.

Skip was the one to give the order. The old sailor
kept his calm and yelled out instruction. “Take cover and return fire. Don’t
make it easy for ‘em.”

The Hatchet’s crew crouched down at the railings
and fired at the Augusta, but the larger Navy vessel was at least a mile away
and too far to hit with an assault rifle. The enemy sniper fired a series of
follow up shots, but by then, everyone had taken cover and remained there
safely.

Guy looked over at Frank and felt a rage bubbling
in his chest. His oldest friend shot dead by a faceless sniper on the orders of
a jumped up lieutenant. Hernandez would pay for this.

Tosco lay on the deck nearby moaning. Guy crawled
over to him and checked for a bullet wound, finding it on his left shoulder—a
leaking hole in his trapezius muscle. “You’re going to be okay, Lieutenant. It’s
just-“

Tosco managed to lift himself slightly. “A flesh
wound? Yeah, I know…
Jeez
, hurts like a mother though. How’s Frank?”

Guy shook his head and fought back tears.

Tosco cursed, from anger now, instead of pain.
“That idiot must have thought we were firing at him when Frank shot that demon.”

Guy snarled. “Hernandez was waiting for an excuse.
He didn’t want to order his men to fire on us without cause.”

“He’s stopped firing now,” said Tosco through
gritted teeth. “They’re still heading away from us.”

A nearby radio squawked. It lay on the deck, and
the voice of Hernandez came through it loud and clear. “Men and woman aboard
the USCG Hatchet. Your senior officers are dead. Please put me in contact with
whoever has inherited command. I wish you no harm, only that you follow the
Augusta back to the coast where it will be added to the Navy’s relief effort.
You are no longer bound to fulfill whatever promises you made to Captain Granger.
You are free.” A brief pause. “Come in, come in, Hatchet. Whoever is most
senior, please respond.”

Guy crawled over to the radio and answered it with
venom in his voice. “Hernandez, this is the senior ranking member of the USCG
Hatchet, Captain Guy Granger. You just killed a man worth ten of you, and I’m
going to make you pay for it. You see, when this war is over, they will string
men like you up. I will be the one to do it. As soon as I find my kids, I’m
coming for you.”

There was the mutter of a reply as if someone was
about to speak but had changed their mind. The line went dead.

***

Everyone aboard the Hatchet
remained in cover until the Augusta was a mere dot on the horizon. Guy shouted
for the ship’s medical officer, Gonzalez, and got Tosco some help. The
lieutenant was in good spirits as a group of enlisted men carried him off to
the sickbay. Guy remained on deck, staring out across the vast ocean and
feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Frank’s body lay beneath a
blanket at his feet.

The old captain, Skip, came up beside Guy and stared
right at him. “Your second in command is quite a hero,” he whispered. “Led the
men against the demons and took a sniper bullet for you.”

Guy nodded. “If more men had his backbone, we
would already have driven those monsters back to Hell.”

Skip nodded, but exhaled as if something worried
him.

“What’s on your mind, Skip?”

“I worry for you.”

“That was always Frank’s job.”

“Then it’s a job vacant for me to fill. He was a
good man, the Chief Petty? Your friend?”

“The very best of both, friend and man. I don’t
know how I would have fared these last few days without him questioning my
every move. He was always my conscience, making me consider my actions.”

“Well, if I can attempt to fill his boots, I have some
advice for you, Captain. Keep Lieutenant Tosco onside. I hate to be the one to
tell you this, but these are his men more than they’re yours.”

The insult was grave, almost unforgivable, but the
old captain was right. “I know what you’re saying,” he admitted, “but he gave
me his word he would help me find Kyle and Alice. After that, I’ll just have to
be ready for whatever happens. Don’t worry about me, Skip.”

“I always worry about good men. We’re back to the
old days now, Captain Granger, and in the old days, there was only one way for
a captain to lose his ship.”

Guy looked down at Frank’s body beneath the sheet
and thought about his friend’s earlier advice.
Be firm
. He turned to Skip
and smiled. “You’re wrong, you know? These aren’t the old days, Skip. They’re
the new days. And if Lieutenant Tosco tries to take my ship, I’ll kill him.”