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Old 04-02-2013, 04:06 PM   #1
guyloveshotstories
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We must survive this (ope to one woman)

Robert Carroll
Age 28
Height 6"
Weight 155
Dark brown eyes and short hair
Clean shaven. No tattoos or piercings. Does not drink or smoke. Not married/ no children. Works as a construction worker by day, off work part of a civilian 'zombie watch' group.


In Seattle the population was very dense and hemmed in on one side by Puget Sound to the West and the mountains to the East. It was a funnel where I-5 sliced through running North and South. I work at a construction company that builds prefabricated houses as well as take them apart. It was a rather simple job that built up my stamina and was able to meet a lot of other people that share the same interests as I.

With that we formed a zombie awareness group. With what happened in Florida, Massachusetts, and Texas, the news running amuck with people eating each others faces or eating body parts we had been stockpiling weapons and supplies for what we were sensing was the coming of the zombie apocalypse.

Then, it occurred to us; it would be wise if we purchased a ship instead of taking our chances of running into the mountains or staying put in an apartment complex in the heart of the city, that is where we found: the Pigeon.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:US...;110204701.jpg

She had seen better times in the United States Navy. She was 187 feet 10 inches in length and a beam (width) of 35 feet six inches and draft (height of the hull below the waterline) of 9 feet; certainly not the largest ship but it suited our needs as it was our ship now when we bought it from the scrap yard for $10,000 where it has been sitting for about sixty years. The hull was rusted and riddled with holes, there was a bird’s nest in one of the stacks, and all of the equipment had been stripped away leaving it a hulk that we had to mount on blocks on the land to begin our work.

For six months the eighteen of us spent our free time cleaning the Pigeon up; patching and cleaning the hull, putting in a custom made steam engine and a single screw (propeller) and a powerful radio system. Originally this ship had 3inch guns on board for aerial defense and machine guns, but we couldn’t get the Federal licenses for that but what we could get were assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, and lots of ammunition. We had friends, its good to have friends in the right places and one was a gun store owner that was in the Navy in Korea and in exchange for letting him board and look around the Pigeon he gave us a great deal on ammunition. The work attracted a lot of attention, some pretty women came by thinking that this was a luxury yacht and wanted to go for rides once it was done.

A lot of people called us ‘childish’ and even ‘stupid’ for wasting so much of our time and money not only on the Pigeon but also on our Zombie preparedness. Even if we could get the damn ship to float; what then?

The 18 of us was just enough to man this ship effectively but few had any experience on a ship so I spent many hours in the library as well as handling smaller ships in the Sound to increase my knowledge and experience and for that I was voted as Captain of the ship but I was not given a rank insignia or even a hat; it was just a position for our small group.

Then zombies came.

It was late at night. The news was confused at first; calling it civil disobedience then rioting as the police stepped up their response but that was all we needed. Grabbing my belongings, rifle, and running through the streets I made it to the Pigeon first then the rest of my friends clambered onboard and we shoved off immediately not paying any heed to anyone else and tried out the engine for the first time and it worked. We built up steam and proceeded at five knots towards the middle of Puget Sound. It was better for us to wait it out offshore than risk it sitting at dock for any new signs.

We endured the freezing wind of the Sound all through the night and we heard on the radio as it became progressively. Using the radio we listened as the military and more law enforcement poured into the city and by dawn the fighting subsided and it was deemed that the fighting was over, we had won, so we came back to dock and from there it all went to hell.

I don't know how it happened, all I know is while we were tying up and topping off our fuel there was a great fusillade of firing several docks over and people ran in every direction. There were other ships moored next to us, large private yachts, but when they ran onboard explosions rocked them and they sank quickly thus we sortied immediately despite seeing people on the dock and behind them were the zombies. They were rather quick infected able to move as fast as a living person could nominally walk instead of shuffling and people were gripped by panic several jumped into the frigid waters of the Sound rather than being devoured alive.

I couldn't let people die despite the risk and used a bullhorn to direct people to another dock where we could pick them up. The crew was scared; all of us checked our weapons and were ready as we came in.

As a warning: there will be violence but will not be used in any intimate scenes. PM me if you have any questions or have a willingness to participate as I am open to bending the story to suit the needs of my partners. The plot line is rather up in the air but will involve being on the sea most of the time.
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Old 04-04-2013, 07:37 PM   #2
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With so few people as a crew it was difficult to get the old Pigeon to move through the Sound. Hundreds of people had taken to smaller boats, either rowing or by motor, to get out of there, to flee to the many small islands in the area to escape that chaos but we sliced through it at ten knots. On the bridge I surveyed the shoreline with my binoculars as the helmsman kept us at two-one-oh degrees homing in on the muzzle flashes of what looked like a great battle going on at a dock.

We tried raising people on our comms but there was nothing but static, even on the emergency channels. Our equipment was new but it was working the other stations were simply out. In the engine room the turbines were spinning beautifully, the fuel bunkers were full and on deck the rest of the crew were waiting with their rifles and pistols for a fight. Having eluded the zombies the first time they were chomping at the bit to come back and get a few, but also to save people. This I told them many times, we were going to save as many people as possible and we were rather down trotted in not having the heavier armament this baby had back in the War. Those 3inch guns would shred hordes by the score. Darn the government in not allowing us to get those readily.

Either way, we homed in on the firefight and we flashed a signal via an Aldis lamp that we were coming and that all people be waiting on the dock.

We weren't going to stop at the dock but come in a wide, slow turn and brush alongside just long enough for people to jump onboard and we would be off. The crew on deck were instructed to inspect everyone for bites or signs of infection. They were ready as we came to within 200 yards of the dock and was able to see it better. On a wood pier I could see the backs of several people firing rifles and pistols into an encroaching horde that was pushing itself closer. There were no other ships or boats there that they could take to and when they saw us coming a couple took to frantically waving their hands above their heads.

"Come hard right thirty degrees" I said.

"Hard right thirty degrees, aye," Brian, my helmsman replied spinning the wheel and watching the compass needle fall on the desired mark. Ten knots was moving pretty quick for an old ship like this however it was taking forever to reach these people. A laser range finder said that they were one hundred yards away now and was to our left.

"Now come hard left ninety degrees"

"Hard left ninety degrees eye" Brian responded.

"Our speed dropped to five knots and the deck crew moved to the starboard bow to await for the new arrivals as the firing picked up.
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Old 04-08-2013, 01:36 AM   #3
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We came alongside the dock and people started jumping onboard, grappling with the rails or merely leaping over them. We were there for thirty seconds and pulled away just as the zombies were within arms reach and they spilled into the Sound by the score as we opened the distance.

"Set course zero-one-zero. Maintain current speed," I instructed.

"Aye-aye, sir" was the response. He didn't have to say it that was but Brian had a small smile on his lips as he carried it out and I was getting a kick out of it. WE were only a crew for the first time and thus far we haven't botched it and I kept my fingers crossed we kept it up. Out in the deep water we could take inventory of whom we now have onboard.

The Pigeons put everyone into custody, their weapons taken away until they could prove whom they were and that they were not infected. Fortunately there were six soldiers from the 81st Heavy Brigade, 40th Infantry Division of the Washington National Guard that would help us but what we needed were sailors to help with this machine.

Using a bull horn my XO called out for everyone to remain calm as they were going to conduct medical examinations on everyone. There was some reluctance, but no one resisted at first. Forty-one other fortunate souls were also saved from the dock, all civilians from all makes of life, rich-poor, man and woman. A couple were homeless men that were already ill and ill kempt from their hard life that they had the appearance of the undead except that they spoke and were fighting with the Pigeons whom were trying to examine them, but they were told they either allow it or be thrown overboard and they relented.

The civilians didn't resist. They came up and showed their flesh but were not told to strip. Any ailments were given as well as any medication that was needed then they were taken below decks except for the soldiers whom were taken up to the bridge to speak with me. The highest ranking was a Sergeant First Class Marlon Commons, a tall-thin lanky white man with a bald head and dark brown eyes. He was thankful for the rescue however he was bitter at the loss of many of his men that when he came onboard he threw his Kevlar cover towards the fantail. The others were E-3 or lower, privates, all young men no more than twenty of age and their eyes were wide and full of fight as they held onto their warm rifles.

"Captain," Commons said, "I know that there are pockets of our unit all over the place. We can get to them..."

I knew what he was getting at but it was risky yet he still pleaded that we at least try to go to their aid. There were hundreds if not thousands of smaller boats lining the coast but the soldiers most likely did not know how to man them. A vast majority were sail boats, not motor thus they would have to paddle out into the sound and after running and gunning through the undead there was doubt that they would have the strength to do so.

WE looked over a map of the Seattle coast and began plotting out areas were Commons knew that people were falling back to, "The coast was our last resort" he said as he pointed out one large port that was a recreational dock for sailboats, "We were forming barriers here when we were swarmed by frantic people trying to escape. Our ranks broke and we fled to the dock..."

"Sergeant," I said, "I'm going to risk getting this ship in close again to save them, but we don't have the facilities onboard to deal with a large influx of people. We don't even have a doctor onboard and not enough food. Now, we'll try, I'm not going to giv up, but we need to find a place where we can gather more supplies."

Commons nodded to this and said, "I know of a place, Indian Island, up by Port Townsend towards the Peninsula. It's a munitions depot but it will have supplies."
"Wait," I said holding up a hand, "If the military owns the island then they might blast us if we get too close."

"Yes, but we can get comms with them," Commons replied then turned to one of the Privates whom sat on the table his MANPACK the radio that was still functioning. "We can try to raise them on this. I'm not sure of their frequency but it's worth a shot if we cant get to a civilian harbor that isn't overrun."

Nodding to this we began putting our plan into motion. Our next move was to move towards the large port five miles to the West. all around us we could see hundreds of fires with the flashes of discharges and above us was a single aircraft taking off from SeaTac, destination unknown.

Below decks the rescued people were taken to the quarters for the enlisted. We didn't have bunks set up for them but we did have room. segregating the women from the men we could give everyone their own room for the time being, but Bill went up to them and asked if anyone had any skills that they could use. A couple of men came forth saying that they were veterans and they could handle a rifle so they were easily accepted, there was a police officer as well and there was a male nurse. He was the only medical expert we had onboard. The others were either students or people that didn't wish to take part thus they were told they had to stay below for their safety.

Going in at ten knots towards the dock the lamps flashed with Morse code once again to notify anyone that we were coming. Comms were faulty, we could pick up some voices but wouldn't acknowledge our transmissions until we signaled them then there were more voices on the radio to head towards the dock. Through my glasses I could see more people on the warf, shoving and pushing to make room for more coming up from behind. "Shit, we're going to get swamped," I said but kept the Pigeon going, following the same plan as before. we came in a wide left turn and cut speed to five knots."

We were fortunate to have calm waters that wouldn't fight with us and as we came in the people were screaming and a wild fight ensued as they wanted to get onboard. Several fell overboard into the frigid waters but my crew threw lines to them to pull them onboard, but we didn't stop. It appeared as though a wave had spilled onboard and the Pigeons pounced upon them as they did before, taking away weapons and searching them as we pulled away. There were shrieks and cries from the helpless still left onshore then came the chorus of the undead that was beginning to swallow them up. We hated to leave them behind, but we had to. The helmsman wanted to spin the ship about but he followed the orders and kept us on a course into the middle of the Sound once again as the guards sorted through the new people.

One woman was found with a bite on her right cheek. She pushed and kicked herself free and ran to the bow, crying that she wasn't infected but the wound was immediately cauterized and her skin was turning bleach white. "No, no!" she screamed then she leapt overboard before anyone could stop her.

This world is coming apart.

The others summited to be searched. There were no more infected but there were eight-nine more people that we had to take care of. There were two sailors that were on shore leave when this happened that were machinist mates, that was a bit of good luck for us, and there were another twelve soldiers from the 40th ID including a medic. Thank God for that, but there were some pretty frantic people that were afraid we would kill them. One man passed out from fright and had to be taken below

The Pigeon was a small ship and we had onboard 148 scared military and civilians that were proceeding into the darkness. The Pigeon's original compliment was 72 men during the War, we had over twice that and we still had more work to do.
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Old 04-10-2013, 09:05 PM   #4
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It was like this all through the night, we would risk the safety of this ship to pull into the many small harbors and docks and pluck people from the edges of death. We were actually getting a real kick out of it as we felt like cavalry coming in for the rescue, most of the time we made it and saved them, a couple of times we were struck by tragedy, one time the wood dock collapsed under the weight of both live and undead and fell into the frigid water. By dawn we were pulling out deeper into the Sound, unable to pick up anyone else on the radios. Our next course was Indian Island. I stood on the bridge still wearing my jacket and holding a rifle in both hands, unwilling to let go of them.

I was nervous, hell, I was even scared, but tried not to show that emotion when standing on the bridge. As captain I was responsible for the crew and this ship and everyone looked to me for guidance even though just before I was just a construction worker and had never captained a ship before in my life. After awhile I was gaining the experience and the confidence to go through with the mission and the military onboard went right along with it and did not interfere or question. Thus far they liked the ideas and wanted to save as many as possible.

I was for it and so were the crew but deep down they were hoping that the next woman we fished from the clutches of death was a busty, slutty redhead college cheerleader or some woman that was very loose.

Everyone was frightened, some trembling, one man passed out from fright and taken down to sick bay where medics tended to him. We didn't have much by ways of medical supplies except first aid thus if we were forced to take a serious case, such as a gunshot wound, we would be in a hard spot.

Brian approached me on the bridge with a sheet of paper with his total count of the number of people we took aboard as well as them being subcategorize into skills and specialties.

Minus the 18 crew we started out with,
30 soldiers of the Washington National Guard including a medic
10 sailors from the nearby sub base
2 nurses
3 police officers
4 construction workers and foremen
1 demolition engineer
a car mechanic
40 students
88 people of various office or sales positions that were of no use to us

All of them were not sick with the virus however there were some that were injured in their escape. Our only hope was to make it to Indian Head Island.

The sun was crawling up above the mountains and we could see dark brown and black smoke rising up from the city, the lights were out now and there was no more radio signals from any other stations nearby thus we were having to give up hope on them. The Pigeon was moving along smoothly along the smooth waters, there was a small fishing boat off the starboard bow by two degrees that appeared to be abandoned. Coming along side we threw some lines down and sent a boarding party. It was a fishing vessel eighty feet long with both sail and motor, but from the look of it there was a violent struggle onboard with bullet holes and knicks from a hatchet or some sort of hacking instructment in the fiberglass. The fuel lines were cut and the hull was leaking water, there was a couple boxes of food and jugs of water onboard, that would be enough to feed everyone for perhaps a day.

Going further the Pigeon was going at ten knots with five miles off the shore and we were straining to see any sign of life on the shore, but saw only zombies either individually or in small groups. God, they were everywhere.
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