“WHAT’S HAPPENING?” he shouted into the mike. Greg responded “We’re still trying to get the mast locked in place. There are about 10-15 of them up on the wall over us. Chris and I can’t stop what we’re doing so the women are trying to keep them off of us. The deeper the canal gets the better chance they have of jumping to the boat. In another 2-3 minutes we should have the mast set. But until then…”
He checked the gauge that showed the level of the lock. He knew from the books once it got low enough the doors would be able to overcome the weight of the water pushing against them. He replied “Tell me the second you have the mast set.” “OK”. It was another never ending 2 minute period of life when he heard “GOT IT.” shouted into his ear. He checked the gauge and saw that the gates would open. He reached over and turned the switch that controlled the gates that led to Ontario. He knew that at the level of water still in the lock as soon as the doors started to open the water would gush from the lock. He looked through the window and saw the gates start to move and he ran from the room. 100 yards away he saw the gathered monsters growling and hurling themselves from the edge, trying to reach the people on the boats.
He knew the odds of killing any of them with the shotgun at that range were minimal but he could surely get their attention. He opened fire at the throng and sent a blizzard of shot and slugs resulting in screams of agony and howls of madness. He walked at them sending a controlled volume of fire while closing the distance and also thinning their numbers as the closer range made the shot more effective. The boats were completely out of sight below him as he fought the diversionary action. He started to retreat back towards the booth drawing the mad with him. He had thinned the herd but he had also let them get close, maybe too close. He turned and ran towards the control room figuring he would use it to guard his back as he continued his fight. He ran up the steps and then turned and took them on.
He could have gone in and locked himself inside but then he would be trapped. What good would that be to allow them to swarm and just be too close and too many for him to deal with and get free to the canal. He had to make sure the family was through the gate before he made his break to catch up with them. It was getting danger close now. There seemed to be no end to them because just as he broke down those closest to him he could see in the distance more coming his way. There were too many now and too close for the shotgun. He drew his .45, the same one he had fired a quarter million rounds through in practice, in competition and on the street where it really counted. He used to have a drill he ran where he shot and made critical hits on 6 targets from the draw in under 3 seconds. Now he had to make that seem slow. At less than 10 feet he machinegunned 7 of them to the ground in under 2 seconds. The 230gr HPs tearing chunks and blowing out the backsides causing multiple casualties on the other side. Another minute of madness and it was all over… at least for now.
All around him lay dead and dying creatures by the score, close enough that some of the dead were leaned up against his legs where they had been clawing and biting at him, and the .45 was so hot the slide burned his skin where he touched it. He reloaded the .45 and counted the magazines he had left. Four plus one in the gun. He still had almost half his shotgun ammo left and he recharged the shotgun. Way off in the distance he could see more creatures coming to the sound of the battle. He stepped into the control room to see where the boats were in relation to the gate and saw the tug going through with the sailboat in tow. They were now over 300 yards from him and the distance grew with each passing second. The mast was up. Slowly he became aware of the sound in his ear. “Dad, are you there? We’re clear.”
It took a second for him to fully grasp what he heard in light of the madness that had taken place. “That’s great son.” He looked out the windows and saw at least 20 of the infected closing the distance to the control room and maybe as many as fifty pouring through a hole in the fence down by the shore of Lake Ontario, and more coming, and they were splitting up, half coming to the sound where the battle took place and the remainder were running the shore with the movement of the boats and then every now and then one would hurl itself into the water in a failed attempt to reach them. It was the same shore his sons would have to land on to get to him and help fight clear.
“You are good to go. Be sure and take care of your mother for me. Greg, you will have to be in charge now. I’m not going to make it. I’m already dead. I couldn’t get them all and one of them got me with a bite before it died. I’m sorry but you will have to go on without me.” The radio was silent. He said “I love you all, now go. If all goes as we know it will I’ll be turned within the hour. I’m not gonna let that happen.” There were cries about loving him and don’t do it but everyone also knew there was nothing to be done once infected. He came back on and told them, “Look, you and I both know how this will end for me so just accept it and go on with your lives knowing that I will always love you and have always loved you. I’m turning the radio off now. Let my last look be of you all getting away from here to safety.” And then he shut down.
He looked out the windows as the boats made their way across Lake Ontario and out of sight headed to the St. Lawrence river to the ocean. He knew there would be other situations that would face them in transit, the St. Lawrence twisted and turned its way in its passage through narrows and areas of rapids bypassed by larger ships by means of other locks or canals, but he had seen how they could adapt and overcome whatever the passage may bring as a challenge. The little tug had been a blessing and would give them options for facing the coming trials and then once its fuel ran out they should be well towards the Atlantic.
There had to be close to a hundred of the creatures outside his door now, maybe even more. But his family, they were on their own, and he had trained the boys well and they would make it. He knew it. He thought about how far they had come and what they had done. They had accomplished a miracle as far as he was concerned getting them safely away to start a new life and so he did not feel that bad about the situation. They had lived and learned lessons of survival that would stay with them and keep them going even if he wasn’t there. Now, with a little luck they could find an uninhabited island and live down south and settle down, and if even more lucky they just might find some other people who would be friendly. It was all he had left now, the firm belief that they were going to make it.
He closed his mind to the monsters clawing at the door and had one of the energy bars from his bag and then finished off a bottle of water. He wondered if his family thought he was going to eat his gun, then thought better of it. They knew him. They knew he would never kill himself, not like that. “Well” he thought, “I guess it’s time.” He checked the .45 one more time and then the Benelli. This was going to be very up close and personal and to the death. One way or another he would never live to become one of them. He measured out the fuse and then crimped the cap in place and set it in the dynamite. He figured he gave himself a little over 2 minutes. Talk about wildly optimistic. He lit the fuse that led into the backpack he was wearing and then pointed the shotgun at the door and started blowing holes through it creating a hole in the group on the other side and temporarily driving them back. He reloaded, gave a loud blood curdling scream, opened the door and stepped unbitten and uninfected out into the swarm.
THE BOAT RIDE Part VII
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