The Tide: Deadrise (5 page)

Shepherd unboxed a lantern and lit it. The flickering light cast a series of dancing shadows across the store. Then he nodded to the hiking packs on a display.

“Grab those first,” he said. “Fill them with food and water. Make sure you take some knives. Shovels and axes as well.”

He made a mental list of the tools they’d need to survive the wilderness—and the Skulls. Rachel, the more senior of the midshipmen, didn’t delay in putting her pack together. Rory, too, worked diligently to execute his orders. Shepherd couldn’t help but admire the two cadets’ adherence to military discipline and urgency. Since he’d rescued them from that underground prison in Virginia, they’d treated him like their new XO, and he appreciated having them on his team.

But despite having subordinates, he no longer felt like a commander. He glanced at the broken glass twinkling in the lantern light. No, he felt more like a homeless refugee desperate to make it in an unfamiliar land. He had no idea how his real command, Fort Detrick, had fared after his arrest for suspected treason and conspiracy.

“Sooner we get this stuff, sooner we can get to Kent Island,” Rachel said, almost more to herself than to Shepherd and Rory.

“Right about that,” Shepherd said as he examined the canteens. “Dom and Meredith need to know Kinsey and the CIA believe they’re involved with the Oni Agent.”

Rory huffed. “That fucking sucks, sir.” He straightened. “Excuse my language—”

“No apologies necessary, cadet.” Shepherd almost grinned. Almost.

“Well, as long as those guys think the Hunters are responsible, that means the real bastards”—Rory looked to Shepherd for approval. Shepherd nodded—“are still out there getting away with who knows what.”

“Exactly,” Shepherd said. He tested the weight of his pack and decided he could carry a few more pounds. He packed several tarps they could use for shelter. “The sooner we reach Kent and get that radio Dom gave you, the better.” He tossed each of them a sleeping bag. “We’ll camp here tonight. I haven’t seen many Skulls, and at least we’ve got four walls to protect us.”

The trio settled down. Shepherd took the first watch. He turned off the lamp and watched the clouds float past the stars through the broken door window. The sound of chirping crickets and the hoot of an owl reassured him nothing was prowling clumsily through the undergrowth looking for its next meal of human flesh.

The thought made him sit up straighter, checking the exits to make sure they were still secure. Even if he hadn’t been on guard, Shepherd didn’t think he could manage sleep. Too many thoughts rushed through his mind. Rustling from another sleeping bag proved he wasn’t the only one with the issue. While Rory’s eyes were closed and his chest seemed to be rising and falling with the slow rhythms of sleep, Rachel was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open.

“What’s bothering you?” Shepherd asked in a low voice.

Rachel sighed. “Even if we do warn Captain Holland, what then?”

“What then?” Shepherd parroted her words. He knew what she was asking. What would
they
do? Radioing Shepherd wouldn’t change Kinsey’s view of the Hunters or of Rachel, Rory, and Shepherd. Kinsey saw them as terrorists and traitors. They had nothing concrete or substantial to counter whatever faulty intelligence Kinsey was operating with.

This certainly wasn’t the only time someone had looked to him for guidance in dark times. People had looked to him for all the answers when Fort Detrick almost fell to the Skulls. Twice. He’d been forced to lead the entire base when the commander before him had been killed by a Skull. And he’d risked his own ass, knowing it was worth it to save the military and civilians sheltered behind the base’s makeshift walls. He’d always believed the correct course of action was the one that saved the most lives—something he knew Dom Holland believed, too, despite what Kinsey might think.

Now, in a world where the people he’d sworn to protect had been altered by a biological agent into the most fearsome weapons the US had ever seen, Shepherd wasn’t sure how to answer Rachel’s simple question.

But that didn’t mean he would give up trying to do the right thing. “Until we clear our names, I doubt Kinsey or the CIA will be sympathetic to our cause. We need to do what we can, though.”

Rachel perked up. “And if we can’t stay in Kent or Fort Detrick...”

“Then we’ll have to join the Hunters.”

***

A
lexandria was a wasteland. There was no easy way to put it. From his roost in the destroyed building, Dom surveyed the once-charming Old Town, which had been lined with restaurants, bars, art galleries, and niche shops. Through his night-vision binos, Dom could make out the occasional silhouette of a Skull lumbering through the ruins. He had a difficult time estimating the number of deformed creatures meandering the streets. There were no good sightlines given the jumbled madness of crumpled vehicles and uneven brick walls that had been blasted to oblivion.

“It’ll be hell trying to make it through the city,” Dom said to Meredith. She crouched beside him. “Fastest route is definitely going to be the river.”

“I didn’t see many Skulls out for a swim,” she said.

“That’s true, but it’s not Skulls I’m worried about.”

Meredith arched an eyebrow. “There’s a marina just over there.” She pointed to a small dockyard filled with sailboats. Many listed in their slips, but a few masts stood upright, apparently ready to sail. “Find a working boat and sail it to Mt. Vernon. Couldn’t be any easier, right?”

“Wishful thinking.” Dom nodded to indicate a scattering of lights across the river. These were no random fires but electric lights. “That’s Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling. Kinsey mentioned he’d be mustering troops in strategic locations around DC.”

Meredith sighed. “Not a bad place to have under his control.”

“Right. Based on how they tried to stamp out the Skulls in Alexandria and Dulles, I’m guessing there are a few soldiers over there.”

“Okay, sure,” Meredith said. “But it’s not like we’re going over there and ringing their doorbell like a couple of Mormon Elders. I say we take a boat, right now while it’s dark, and shoot straight south. They won’t have to know it’s
us
on the boat.”

“I don’t think they care who’s aboard. They aren’t taking any chances.” Dom gestured toward Alexandria and the evidence of haphazard bombing that had taken place. He recalled the images of bodies, Skulls and humans, they’d seen in the streets outside Crystal City, too. Judging by the look on Meredith’s face, she understood his point. “They’re a bit overzealous. A boat would be great. It just isn’t wise to sail right next to a military base.”

Meredith chewed her bottom lip, and her brow creased in thought. “Wish we didn’t have to decide whether it was safer to risk bullets or Skulls coming our way.”

“Me too,” Dom said. “But maybe we can test the waters, so to speak.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Dom went over his idea for a plan with Meredith. Together, they worked out a few kinks, and they decided it would be worth the gamble. Taking a boat was too good of an opportunity to pass up and would ensure they didn’t waste precious hours and even days trekking across dry land to reach their objective. He couldn’t wait to reunite with his daughters, his crew, and his ship.

––––––––

D
om pressed the binos to his eyes. He first spotted Glenn and Miguel waiting in the woods bordering the marina. The duo was crouched behind a pair of tree trunks with their rifles at the ready. Jenna and Andris guarded the pair from any potential Skull attacks from the city. Ahead of the group, Meredith and Renee prowled near the edge of the parking lot leading to the docks.

“How are they doing, boss?” Spencer asked. The man had stubbornly refused to rest, insisting that a little pain wouldn’t keep him from helping out.

“Almost there,” Dom said, never taking the binos from his eyes.

He scanned the opposite shore where the Joint Base was. The electric lights were still burning, but he saw no activity to indicate the soldiers there had noticed them. Right now, the human threat worried him more than the Skulls.

Meredith and Renee proceeded stealthily to the boathouse. They paused and looked up toward Dom’s position.

“Clear to proceed,” Dom said.

The women crept along the marina until they reached the docks. They lay flat on the boards, watchful and waiting. Dom’s nerves started to course with electricity; he preferred to be in the thick of the action rather than managing it. But the Hunters needed a leader, an eye-in-the-sky, to organize the mission.

“No indication you’ve been spotted,” Dom said. “Andris, Jenna, you got eyes on any hostiles?”

“Negative,” their voices came back.

“Miguel, Glenn, shift so you can see the entire dock. Focus on anything that moves.”

Glenn and Miguel inched through the foliage. Glenn kneeled and peered down his optics. Miguel went prone and aimed his rifle across the dock.

“We’re in position,” Miguel reported.

“Good,” Dom said. “Renee, Meredith, go find us a ride.”

The duo moved like ghosts between the sailboats. They checked over the few that remained upright, examining the hulls for damage. They finally stopped near a boat they apparently liked.

“Think we found her,” Meredith said.

“Copy that,” Dom said. “Proceed.”

Meredith hopped inside the craft. She opened the cabin door and scanned the interior with her rifle. Dom waited, his muscles growing tense, until she reported, “Clear.”

Renee undid the mooring lines around the bulwarks. She pushed the boat slightly with her boot and jumped over the gunwale. Once aboard, she scrambled to the stern and started the small outboard trawling motor. The thing gurgled to life with a low groan that Dom heard over the open comm link. He cringed. It wasn’t that loud, but in the still night it sounded like fireworks to him.

Renee let the sailboat drift slowly out of its slip before she directed it toward the mouth of the marina. There was a strong southerly wind, but Dom had told them not to bother with the sail. The current could do the work. A huge, flapping mainsail would attract too much attention from the Joint Force base. He surveyed the base once more. So far, nothing. They might actually pull this off.

Renee kept low as she directed the boat slowly into the open river, where the current helped turn the boat south. Over the comm link, Dom could still hear the gurgling of the motor.

“Kill the outboard,” he said.

“Roger,” Renee said and complied with the order.

The night went still and silent again. Dom listened to the Hunters’ controlled breathing. The tension was almost palpable as they watched the craft approach. The slight waves slapped against the boat and carried it just past the marina.

“Glenn, Miguel, keep on her.”

“Roger,” Miguel said. He and Glenn stood and prowled through the woods. Their rifles scanned left and right, ensuring no Skull popped up on them unexpectedly. Jenna and Andris followed, watching the approach from the city where Skulls were most likely to appear.

Dom’s anticipation grew as each second passed. He judged it would be a mere minute or so before the sailboat was far enough south for Meredith and Renee to bring it to shore and pick up the rest of the Hunters. Maybe he’d been too careful, too worried about the Joint Force base. He shook aside those thoughts. There was never anything wrong with being vigilant in a world filled with monsters and a country that might’ve turned completely against you.

“Start bringing her in,” he said.

As Renee rotated the tiller, a blinding flash of light tore through Dom’s binos. He squeezed his eyes shut and clicked off the night vision, desperately trying to regain his bearings.

“Aw, shit!” Spencer said.

Spotlights had ripped through the darkness, centered on the sailboat. The telltale rattle and bark of machine guns tore the air. Tracer rounds flew like comets and chewed through the fiberglass hull as if it were nothing more than cardboard. The ship shook, then started to list. Gunfire felled the mast, and the shrouded mainsail splashed into the river.

Yells boomed against Dom’s eardrums through the comm link. The bullets had shorn a fuel line. Fire was coursing over the deck. Dom’s heart climbed into his throat.

He shouted to Meredith and Renee, but if they answered he couldn’t make out the reply in the chaos. They had been so close, and then everything had gone wrong. Dom didn’t think the situation could get any worse.

The howls of dozens of Skulls proved his mistake.

***

M
eredith and Renee had jumped into the water as the first bullets struck the ship. The din of rounds slamming into the craft, shredding it to flotsam, boomed underwater. Meredith dove deeper. Rounds whizzed past, leaving trails of bubbles. They plunged all around her. She twisted her neck to see if she could spot Renee, but the water was too dark. The kicked-up silt obscured her vision. She pumped her legs hard and pulled herself through the water with her hands. Her lungs burned for oxygen, but she wanted to remain below the surface as long as possible. Surfacing within the reach of the spotlights would undoubtedly prove fatal.

Orange light flashed above her. The boat was on fire.

So much for the cover of darkness
, Meredith thought.

Her hands touched the probing roots of plants near the shore. She followed them, staying close to the underwater foliage until she thought it was safe to pull herself from the muck. Her boots slurped in the mud as she ran for the woods. With the intense gunfire, zipping tracer rounds, and blinding spotlights, it was difficult to gauge her surroundings.

The cacophony of voices over her comm link and the bark of machine guns were soon joined by gut-wrenching howls. There was no mistaking their source.
Skulls.

“Meredith, Renee, do you copy?” Dom’s voice sounded frantic.

“Copy!” Meredith said between breaths. She plunged into the woods. Machine gun rounds followed her, crashing into the trees. Torn bits of bark and branches peppered her skin. She pressed deeper into the protective embrace of the forest.