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by Mark Mountford
Atlantic Ocean. July 2009
I feel the ship tilt as we ascend to the surface. I feel an electric chargeof excitement running through the crew. None of us have seen blue skies orbreathed clean air for over three months and only now after our training mission can we surface and break our complete radio silence.
I remember our first day, stood on the dock next to the new sub the H.M.S Hood. There was a few grumbling over the name, as the last “Ship” that held that name was destroyed in a fierce battle with the Bismark, but the top brass seemed to think it was appropriate for the sub.
The Prime Minister was there along with the usual news crowd. As it was an election year he wanted to look good with the Armed Forces, in light of what was happening in the Gulf. He was chumming up with Land, Air and us Navy boys. I listened lazily as he outlined our mission, to try out the new systems in the state of the art Sub that the taxpayers hard earned cash has paid for. After it had finished, and the brass had gone off to brown nose for their promotions, we all got to it and readied the ship for service.
I love the feeling, as we break the surface and settle back down. It reminds me of my father when he used to raise me up and let go, then catch me as I fell, but for a few moments. I was flying. I’m that kid again as I close my eyes and smile.
Everyone is running now. The comms are alive with chatter telling everyone it’s a bright sunny day, and that we can all go topside for a breath of fresh air. A friend of mine Rob (Roy) Givvens runs past me, almost squeezing me to the bulkhead, telling me to “Move my arse”. I keep pace and wait patiently in the line, waiting to climb the ladder to the surface.
Most of us are in the Mess when the call comes over the comm that there’s been some Complications raising any transmissions from base, and that the Sub is being put on alert until communications have been established. The men all chat normally after the announcement but I have a nagging feeling in
my gut and I can’t help but feel worried.
I look at my watch. It’s just after 2am and I’m standing in the con tower with Rob on lookout, when he nudges me and asks me to check an object showing at stern. I raise the glass to my eyes and can just make out a faint outline in the water but with not much illumination I cannot make it out. The object is completely in darkness, no running lights at all. I’m still looking, when Rob calls below to report it, and a few minutes later the Captain is up to check it out. He orders a starburst flare and a few seconds later the sky is lit up, sunrise in the middle of the night. The flare shows us that our “Object” is a pleasure cruiser. And a top of the range one at that! It’s huge like a skyscraper fallen on its side!
The Captain orders everyone below to take up their positions, and tells us that we’ll wait till daybreak before we investigate. He then turns to me and Roy ordering us to get below, as we’re going to be needed in the morning.
I wake up suddenly by someone shaking me hard, yelling to get my kit on and report to the surface. I’m still half asleep as I get ready, grab my stuff and stagger to the nearest ladder to get me topside. When I get there, the Captain is stood with the master at arms who is handing out our weapons. I look to the conning tower to see Jenkins, our sniper, peering through the sight of his weapon and relaying messages via radio to the Captain. Roy is next to me and is whispering what has been happening. It appears there is no sign of life on board, although Jenkins did see someone on the Bridge of the ship. However, after checking via infrared, there wasn’t any heat signature coming from it.
I hate this part! We’re crammed in this damned dingy, tearing across the water and, luckily for me, it’s smooth as glass, so it’ll make the trip across quicker. I look over at the other dingy to see where it is. The guys driving usually have a bet to see who makes it there first. So everyone is hanging on for dear life! I wish I had made a bet now, as we make it first.
Four men fire a line up onto the deck, and secure the grappling hook the tie the bottom to the dingy. We line up to start our climb up to the deck of the boat. It’s deathly quiet and, as we climb we check the portholes for any activity inside. There’s a small pop, as one of the climbers blows a shape charge on one of the windows, and pushes an instrument inside to check for any poisonous gas. He gives a thumbs up and we continue to climb.
When I get over the rail, I get my SA80 ready and check the surroundings. There’s no talking, just hand signals telling us to get into a defensive formation. I see two guys holding other equipment and look down at the readouts. After a moment, we’re given a sign to finally remove our breathing apparatus and, in a short space, I breath clean air for a second time in as many days.
We form a tight circle and the sergeant gives each of us a section of the boat to check. I’m paired with a guy I’ve never worked with before. We give each other a curt nod as we’re introduced and given our orders, after which we break from the group and head for the Bridge of the ship.
We’re not half way up the stairs, when a burst of gunfire stops us in our tracks. We take cover behind the staircase. There’s a second burst from the direction we came and we can hear screams over the headsets we’re wearing. I look up at the young guy I’m with and I see the look of fear on his face. “Great!”, I think, “I’m stuck with a rookie!” I tell the kid to watch my back and we head back the way we came, in the direction of the gunfire.
As we round the corner, I can hardly believe my eyes! There’s a group of our guys in a small circle and they’re firing upon a group of what looks like holidaymakers. I can see the medic trying desperately to stop the blood flowing from one of the men lying on the deck, as the injury on his neck keeps pumping blood into the air. We’re both stood there rooted to the spot, when the Sarge yells at us to get over there and help. As we cross, a couple of the holidaymakers turn toward us and I get a glimpse of their faces. Their eyes are glazed over and their jaws hang open lazily. I notice one of them is missing an arm but there’s no blood! No blood! How can that be?
The young guy with me stops suddenly. I turn as the Sarge shouts and points to behind me. I see the young guy picking up a little girl and start running towards me again. He’s just about to reach me when his face twists in agony. I see the little girl’s head snap back with the rookies ear still in her mouth. He pushes her away and when she hit’s the ground she chews hurriedly on what’s left of his ear. I look at him and he’s looking at me with utter shock on his face. We both look down to see the kid turn to us both, the flesh now totally eaten. There’s a manic grin on her face when suddenly she’s cut down in a hail of bullets. The rookie screams out. We’re both dragged away by the medic towards the group firing into the crowd that’s gathered.
After the shooting stops, the Sarge tells us that they came upon a set of doors leading to the main staircase. They had been barred with a fire axe. When they removed it, the crowd had burst out onto them and taken one of the men. The crowd had literally dragged him inside. When his colleague tried to help, he was set upon and bitten on the throat. The rest had laid down suppressing fire and regrouped back at the climbing point. We watch the medic cover the dead Marines face with a cloth before turning to the rest of us grim faced. A few shots still ring out but it seems that the crowd has retreated back to the doorway. I can hear the Sarge telling the Captain what has happened. I also hear the orders to stand firm as he sends reinforcements to us to help conduct a search and secure the ship.
The medic crosses over to one of the fallen people and jumps back suddenly as the body starts to rise. He draws his sidearm and puts a round into its head and after that, it stops moving. The Sarge watches, and as he is listening to the Captain, tells us to check the bodies and to shoot into the heads if any moved.
After we’re finished, one of the men finds a bundle of faxes next to where the door had been barred, which we have barred again using the same fire axe. We begin to read them while we wait for the reinforcements to arrive. What we read makes our blood run cold. Not long after we had initially set sail, a virus had hit America. Within a few weeks the whole continent had been infected by what they were calling a “Zombie Outbreak”. Whole cities turned into scenes from hell, and a few had even been nuked to try and stop the spread of the disease. The only country that hadn’t been infected was Britain. Luckily, strong immigration and quarantine of pets had stopped the virus getting in. One report spoke of the Channel Tunnel being blocked by caving the roof in. A few of us sigh with relief, as that meant our families at least were safe. That, however, doesn’t stop me thinking about the loss of communications with our base. The last thing was hand written by the person who had barred the doors. He said the virus was transmitted by the bites and that he had been bitten. He was going to throw himself overboard.
We all look at each other, and turn as one toward the Marine who had died just moments before. He is standing there with the Sergeant’s head in his hands, the look of shock still on the Sergeant’s face. A few of us scream and start to run away. Most of us, the ones who have witnessed death before, start to fire on the creature. Bullets tear flesh and bone from the body, before one enters his head and he drops to the ground.
I have a sudden thought and, just as I’m about to speak one of the reinforcements shouts. I turn and see the rookie, his face a deathly grey, pull the Axe from the door, and bring it down onto a man’s leg, who’s crouched keeping watch. Everything happens in slow motion. The axe bites into the leg, severing it below the knee. The man screams, as the rookie reaches down to pull the bloody stump. He rips it free from the rest of the leg and start to tear at the flesh. The act must have urged the people behind the door forwards again, as they burst through the doors a second time. A few of the guys get off a few rounds before they are overpowered and literally torn apart before my eyes. Limbs and internal organs are scattered amongst the Zombies like sweets at a kids party! One almost gets hold of me but I have my sidearm in my hand and manage a shot to its head. Someone grabs me from behind. I spin and fire. Seeing the shock on the man standing there, my eyes widen and we both look to his midriff. My bullet enters his gut, just above his waistline and below his vest. He tries to say something but falls to his knees. I turn to see if anyone can help me, but everyone is running back the way they came. I turn to look at the man again, but he is lying on his side. His lips are moving but no sound is coming from them. I pick up his fallen weapon, turn and run, tears running down my face. I killed a man, not only that, one of my comrades! I stop running. A feeling of remorse ? I look back to go and help but he is surrounded by people, all bent over him. All I can see is red hanging from their mouths, red and wet. I turn and run as fast as I can.
The rest of the men have formed a barrier and, as we continue firing on the crowd, a couple of the men are trying to make contact with the Sub.
Jenkins is lying on a sunlounger on an upper deck with his rifle, taking great care and hitting a head every time. I watch as he reloads and he looks at me his face a scowl. He shakes his head before looking into his sights to continue firing. Did he see me shoot the Marine? Did he understand what happened? I turn toward the advancing crowd, my ears ringing from the gunfire, trying not to slip on the brass littering our feet. We seem to be going nowhere, when I hear a shout to Cease Fire. The deck goes quiet and the only sound we can hear is the low moaning coming from what used to be people. Both still standing and from what was left of some lying on the deck.
I turn to look at Jenkins but he is not there. I scan the area and just about see him turning the corner where the stairs are but something is wrong. He is walking like a drunk , and the baseball hat he always wore is missing. He starts to turn towards the way he came and I see the back of his head. It is missing, the grey pink of his brain in view! He bends forwards and someone comes upon him, its hand lunging into the wound, balling into a fist and ripping outward. Jenkins falls as the creature does this, the last of his life leaving his body. I shove the guy next to me and point towards the Zombie and we both fire, reducing it to a bloody pulp.
We look around, trying to see who is in charge, when a sound comes from the Sarges fallen body. It’s his radio, we never heard it over the gunfire. Someone lifts the bloody headset and starts talking into it. The rest of us fire to keep the crowd back. After a few moments he repeats the message to all of us, we are to retreat back to the Sub.
A few of us have grenades, and we now use them to clear a path towards the ropes that lead down to the dingys. There aren’t many left of us from the original squads that set out. I look to see Roy is still alive and give him a thumbs up. He looked at me and smiled, before he climbs over the railings and starts to descend to the waiting boats.
As he climbs down, Roy passes the porthole that had been blown open when we arrived. A hand suddenly reaches out and grabs him by the belt. It slams his body to the broken window, and he immediately starts screaming. He looks up to me, his eyes pleading. They suddenly glaze over and the blood starts bubbling in his mouth and cuts off his screams. His body takes on an strange shape and we all hear a loud crack. His torso slowly turns, while his lower half remains the same. We can see they had cut into his stomach and removed whatever had been in there. They are pulling on his spine and as it slowly snaps the ribs, Roy’s head sinks into his neck, then chest. Another loud snap pulls the rest of his spine along with the skull, still attached, into the window. A few hands still hold on to what is left of his body. I scream and jump over the rail hanging onto the rope. As I pass his body and the window, I throw an incendiary grenade into the room before plunging into the sea.
I feel myself being dragged out of the water by two Marines into the packed dingy. I look up to see fire pouring out of the window and as we head back to the sub I start to cry.
Once we are on board the Sub, we debrief the Captain about what has happened. He studies the Faxes we have recovered and orders the ship destroyed. We sit in silence and listen to the Torpedoes leave the Sub, and the sudden boom that signals contact.
The Captain sets course for home. During our fight on the ship, the Captain had gained contact with base. They told him of what had happened around the world. The whole planet was gripped in this evil but Britain and the surrounding Islands had been safe. The news set our spirits high and we look forward to being with our loved ones.
The outbreak in the Sub starts twelve hours after we get back from the ship. They have to seal the forward bulkhead, as they don’t want to start firing in there, in case a stray bullet hit any of the torpedoes or other equipment.
Epilogue
The Captain beached the Sub somewhere in Wales I think. After more of the crew got infected, we had to lock its course and seal ourselves in the rear of the Sub. I popped the hatch and jumped on to the sand. I closed my eyes and smelled the sea air and started to walk along the beach. I didn’t feel cold but I was hungry and the bite on my arm had stopped hurting a few hours ago.
I couldn’t wait to taste good old fashioned British food!
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