Susan jumped
through the hatch. Susan's feet had barely hit the deck before they
heard the sound of the sailboat's motor rev as Brain backed rapidly
away. Facing into the ship in an arc, the foursome split into two
groups and moved to either side of the hatch so they didn't
silhouette themselves against the sunlight streaming through it.
They took a minute to survey their surroundings and let their eyes
adjust to the dim interior of the Dead Calm.
Heather was the first to speak. In a low voice, she
said, “There are lights on.”
“Emergency lights,” Tick-Tock pointed out in an
equally quiet voice.
“Battery?” Heather asked.
Not taking his eyes away from the area in front of
him, Steve slowly crouched down and placed his hand flat on the
metal deck as Brain had instructed him to. Feeling a slight
vibration, he said, “Generator or some other equipment's running
somewhere. I can feel it. And the floor's dry, so that hatch
couldn't have been open very long.”
They all considered this as they continued to look
around the storage area. It had been months since the HWNW virus
had swept across the world, so there was no way that something
mechanical could have run this long without refueling or
maintenance. Additionally, if the hatch had been open all that
time, the floor should have been wet from water coming in.
“Someone's on board,” Susan whispered nervously.
Although she had no reservations about shooting one of the undead
in the brain, living, breathing human beings were a different
matter.
“Doesn't make a difference,” Tick-Tock said. “We’re
here to get what we need. As long as whoever’s here stays out of
the way there won't be any problems.”Looking at a row of eight jet
skis in front of him and the numerous kayaks stored on racks to his
left, he continued, “Water craft storage.”
“Brain called that one right,” Susan said.
A faint odor came to Steve and he said, “I smell
gas.”
“That was me,” Heather said. “Sorry about that, but
with all those MRE's I’ve been eating it just happens.”
All four of them laughed at the ridiculous bathroom
humor, but the dumb joke had done as Heather had planned and
relaxed the tension a little. She knew it wasn't good for them to
go into a situation like this so wired up that they started
shooting at shadows.
“We clear this room first and then move on,” Steve
ordered. “Susan, Tick-Tock, check out the kayaks while Heather and
I look behind the Sea-Doos. See if you can find where the gas smell
is coming from.”
Heather almost quipped; it’s coming from my ass, but
decided against it. One dumb joke was enough.
After a short search, they found the storage area
clear of the living and the dead, so Tick-Tock and Steve ventured
down a short hall they discovered behind the kayaks. The passage
ended in a room stacked with a dozen, two wheeled gas caddies.
Inside the compartment to the right was a gas pump.
When Tick-Tock tried to activate the equipment though, only a
trickle of fuel came out of the nozzle.
“No power,” Steve pointed out.
Indicating the lights, Tick-Tock replied, “There’s
power somewhere. When Brain gets on board we'll get him to figure
out how to reroute it.”
Reminded at hearing Brain’s name, Steve unclipped the
radio from his belt and called the tech while moving back into the
main storage room. After telling him what they had found so far and
promising to keep him posted, he moved to the hatch leading into
the next compartment and said to the others, “Let's move out. We do
it just like we planned.”
After shouldering their weapons and setting up in a
wide arc facing the door, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan called out
in turn that they were ready.
The heavy steel fire door opened effortlessly when
Steve pushed down on the latch securing it. After pulling the
portal open a few feet, he quickly backed out of the possible line
of fire in case anything unfriendly came out. The area beyond was
dark, and for
through the hatch. Susan's feet had barely hit the deck before they
heard the sound of the sailboat's motor rev as Brain backed rapidly
away. Facing into the ship in an arc, the foursome split into two
groups and moved to either side of the hatch so they didn't
silhouette themselves against the sunlight streaming through it.
They took a minute to survey their surroundings and let their eyes
adjust to the dim interior of the Dead Calm.
Heather was the first to speak. In a low voice, she
said, “There are lights on.”
“Emergency lights,” Tick-Tock pointed out in an
equally quiet voice.
“Battery?” Heather asked.
Not taking his eyes away from the area in front of
him, Steve slowly crouched down and placed his hand flat on the
metal deck as Brain had instructed him to. Feeling a slight
vibration, he said, “Generator or some other equipment's running
somewhere. I can feel it. And the floor's dry, so that hatch
couldn't have been open very long.”
They all considered this as they continued to look
around the storage area. It had been months since the HWNW virus
had swept across the world, so there was no way that something
mechanical could have run this long without refueling or
maintenance. Additionally, if the hatch had been open all that
time, the floor should have been wet from water coming in.
“Someone's on board,” Susan whispered nervously.
Although she had no reservations about shooting one of the undead
in the brain, living, breathing human beings were a different
matter.
“Doesn't make a difference,” Tick-Tock said. “We’re
here to get what we need. As long as whoever’s here stays out of
the way there won't be any problems.”Looking at a row of eight jet
skis in front of him and the numerous kayaks stored on racks to his
left, he continued, “Water craft storage.”
“Brain called that one right,” Susan said.
A faint odor came to Steve and he said, “I smell
gas.”
“That was me,” Heather said. “Sorry about that, but
with all those MRE's I’ve been eating it just happens.”
All four of them laughed at the ridiculous bathroom
humor, but the dumb joke had done as Heather had planned and
relaxed the tension a little. She knew it wasn't good for them to
go into a situation like this so wired up that they started
shooting at shadows.
“We clear this room first and then move on,” Steve
ordered. “Susan, Tick-Tock, check out the kayaks while Heather and
I look behind the Sea-Doos. See if you can find where the gas smell
is coming from.”
Heather almost quipped; it’s coming from my ass, but
decided against it. One dumb joke was enough.
After a short search, they found the storage area
clear of the living and the dead, so Tick-Tock and Steve ventured
down a short hall they discovered behind the kayaks. The passage
ended in a room stacked with a dozen, two wheeled gas caddies.
Inside the compartment to the right was a gas pump.
When Tick-Tock tried to activate the equipment though, only a
trickle of fuel came out of the nozzle.
“No power,” Steve pointed out.
Indicating the lights, Tick-Tock replied, “There’s
power somewhere. When Brain gets on board we'll get him to figure
out how to reroute it.”
Reminded at hearing Brain’s name, Steve unclipped the
radio from his belt and called the tech while moving back into the
main storage room. After telling him what they had found so far and
promising to keep him posted, he moved to the hatch leading into
the next compartment and said to the others, “Let's move out. We do
it just like we planned.”
After shouldering their weapons and setting up in a
wide arc facing the door, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan called out
in turn that they were ready.
The heavy steel fire door opened effortlessly when
Steve pushed down on the latch securing it. After pulling the
portal open a few feet, he quickly backed out of the possible line
of fire in case anything unfriendly came out. The area beyond was
dark, and for
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