George burst onto the bridge but found no initial signs of trouble. One of the refugees from Walton was on the bridge, holding hands with Kevin. Her lightly tanned skin looked pale next to Kevin's dark skin tone, but neither Kevin nor the woman seemed to notice.

"Why have we stopped?" he asked.

"It's too dark," Kevin explained. "I almost hit one of those old wrecks back there."

"Can't we turn on some lights?" George questioned.

"I'd rather not," Kevin explained. He reached into one of a set of recessed cylinders installed horizontally in the wall. Pulling out a rolled sheaf of papers, he spread them out on the chart table behind the wheel. "Come and see for yourself."

George joined Kevin and Alana at the table, staring down at the map Kevin had spread out.

"We're about here," Kevin explained, pointing to a spot near the coast. Tapping a finger at a location further into the bay, he continued. "This is the approximate location of an oil rig. It's controlled by a scavenger clan known as the Coral Blade. They have small motor boats, and the refinery built next to the oil rig makes sure they have plenty of fuel. Anyone or anything passing through their waters will get their attention. I was hoping to slip past them without being noticed."

"We may not have the option," George said. "We're dangerously low on fuel."

"Why didn't you say something before now?" Kevin demanded.

"Before now, we didn't have a place where we could get any more, so it didn't matter," George replied swiftly. "We could get the fuel we need from the scavengers."

"They don't bargain," Kevin stated firmly.

"I wasn't planning on asking them," George said with a sly grin.

"They'd see this ship before we got near them and swarm all over us," Kevin pointed out.

"Yes," George agreed. "They'd see the ship, but they wouldn't see the two of us."

"A stealth raid?" Kevin queried.

"We do have some scuba gear onboard," George explained. "If the two of us were to approach underwater, we could reach the rig without being seen. Once onboard, we could appropriate a few drums of fuel without them ever being the wiser."

"I don't know," Kevin said, folding his arms across his chest and staring hard at the map.

"We can go on, hoping and praying we don't run out of fuel before we reach out destination," George suggested. "Or, we can risk two people for a chance to save all the rest. If we don't make it, they can still go on with Isabella in command."

"I don't like where this is going," Alana said uncomfortably.

"Don't worry about it," Kevin replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "George and Isabella used to lure scavengers into ambushes. It's actually how we met. If he thinks we can do this, there's a fairly good chance we can."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," George grumbled sarcastically.

"Since this will most likely need to be a nighttime raid, let's discuss this tomorrow," Kevin suggested.

"Fair enough," George accepted. "In the mean time, I'm holding a small service in the mess hall, explaining our situation and the reason there is still hope."

"Sounds like something worth hearing," Kevin said. He looked to Alana. "What do you think?"

"I'd like to go," she answered him.

"Seems like you have two more," Kevin told George.

"This way," the priest said, ushering them to the mess hall.

***

Filled with rows of plastic topped metal tables surrounded by chairs, the mess hall was fifty feet wide and completely square. Almost every chair was filled by the refugees from Walton. The bright overhead lights created the illusion of it being in the middle of the day rather than late evening. Conversations between the people, discussing their situation and the possibilities awaiting in their future, filled the room with soft whispers.

"Ladies and gentlemen," George said loud enough to gain their attention as he took his place at the head of the room. "I understand you're all greatly troubled by the events of recent days. Your first encounters with the undead have been traumatic to say the least. It is my hope to alleviate some of your fears and show you that even in this dying world, there is still room for hope."

Taking a deep breath, George climbed on top of a table so everyone in the room could see him. He held up the worn Bible he always carried in his pack.

"When Christianity first started, they suffered heavy persecution," George explained, his voice strong and clear. "They were driven out of the capital of Jerusalem and scattered in many directions, but God used this to plant churches in every city and land where they were dispersed. What had been a great misfortune, God used to benefit countless people."

George paced his table, making eye contact with those nearest him in the crowd.

"When the flood destroyed the world, God saved Noah and his family in the ark," George went on. "Here we are, a few survivors on a ship, floating upon the waters of a destroyed world. Our situation is indeed similar. In both cases, God turned what would have been a dire catastrophe into that which was needed to save people, and He can do the same for us."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.

"No matter what awaits us in the coming days, possibly years, God will guide our course," George proclaimed. "He will either keep us safe in this life, or take us into the safety and security of the next. As long as we hold to Him, we cannot lose, not to the living or the undead."

***

The meeting continued for another hour with questions by the Walton refugees. George answered them as best he could; Kevin thought he did rather well. As time went on, the people seemed less and less troubled by their circumstance. Although still bothered by the undead, they were further from a state of panic than when they'd come into the mess hall.

"He certainly won the crowd," Alana whispered to Kevin as the two of them stood together near the back wall.

"The crowd was won, but it wasn't by him," Kevin corrected. "It was through him."

"Are you starting to be a believer?" Alana asked in surprise.

Kevin laughed humorlessly, but the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't deny he was seriously considering the idea.

"Who knows?" Kevin said. "In a world like ours, when we've lost almost everything but our lives, who wouldn't want to cling to that which can still offer hope? It sure beats the alternative."

***

Morning sent a feathering of golden light across the sky, and it was mirrored by the tranquil waters of the bay. The air was cool and still, and a few birds sang from trees along the shore. Standing below the trees were the silent ranks of the living dead. Having walked all night, the zombies gathered on the bank at the closest distance between them and the ship, waiting for an opportunity to reach the living within.

Kevin looked at the hordes from the bridge, but he couldn't see an end to them. They were packed together from one end of the coastline to another and stretched off into the desolate cities in the distance behind them.

"They still out there?" George asked, his unexpected question startling Kevin and making him flinch.

"Yeah," Kevin answered. "When we finally get underway and start heading to our intended forest encampment, they'll have further to go because they're all gathered here."

"If the forest is far enough away, we could get a sizable lead," George agreed.

"The only problem with the distance is the fuel," Kevin stated, turning from the window and facing George directly. "How much do you think we'll need?"

"Several barrels, minimum," George answered. "I've had experience with engines like these, but it's been awhile. I'm no expert on fuel consumption. The more we can retrieve, the better."

Kevin moved over to the map table and examined the diagram spread out over the surface. Before sunrise, he'd spent a few hours with a pair of binoculars, cataloging the locations of the various shipwrecks in the vicinity. Although the map now showed the debris of the surrounding waters, it lacked the specific location of the scavenger oil rig.

"Where is the enemy base?" George questioned.

"Somewhere in here," Kevin answered, pointing to a general spot on the map. "We're out of sight at the moment, probably one of the reasons we haven't be attacked yet. Those ships littering the bay are the leftovers from previous raids."

"How can we look for it without getting noticed ourselves?" George asked.

"

You don't need to," Razor answered as he joined the two men on the bridge. The scavenger was followed by the red handed woman who always remained near him. Razor pointed to a spot on the map. "The Coral Blade rig is here."

"Excellent," Kevin praised. "All we need now is a way onboard."

"It's not as easy as you might think," Razor warned. Without asking permission, he flipped the map over and began sketching out a diagram of the oil rig and its defenses. "For starters, they have spotters stationed at each of the rig's four corners as well as a sniper at the top. Inflatable boats with motors and machine guns have been positioned on each side of the rig for rapid deployment."

As Razor mentioned each layer of defense, he added indicating markers to his basic design of the enemy base.

"Stationed beside the drilling platform are the crew quarters and the refinery," Razor went on, drawing a rectangle beside the square rig and indicating the location of the living accommodations for the scavengers. Scrawling a square equal in size to the drilling platform, he placed the refinery in its position.

"Because the refinery has access to processed fuel, expect to encounter flame throwers on that side," Razor stated.

"Isn't that dangerous to have flame throwers next to an oil rig?" George questioned.

"The Coral Blade are insane, even for scavengers," Razor answered. "It's one of the reasons my clan never succeeded in any of our attempts to conquer them."

"What would be the best approach?" Kevin inquired.

"You'll want to avoid anything on the surface," Razor replied. "They watch the waters too well. Get within a hundred yards, and they'll spot you."

"We have some scuba gear," George explained.

"That will get you close, but you'll need to watch out for the mines," Razor said.

"Mines?" Kevin and George asked in unison.

"Subsurface mines float around the entire perimeter of the rig and its accompanying structures," Razor told them. "The mines don't go all the way to the floor of the bay since the scavengers don't want the undead setting them off."

"What about the undead?" Kevin pressed.

"The water is thick with them," Razor pointed out. "They cover the bay floor under the rig more than sand does. If you try to swim under the mines, you'll run into them."

"Great," Kevin said sarcastically.

"The only reason we couldn't take them out was because they always saw us coming," Razor pointed out. He flipped the map back over to show the image of the bay and pointed to one of the wrecks north of the scavenger outpost. "Red and I can use the scuba gear and get into this ship through an underwater hole in its side. While we fire on the scavengers from here, it should divert their attention from your activities on the rig."

"How do you know there's a hole large enough to fit through?" Kevin asked.

"Because I made it when I sank the ship," Razor answered simply. "It used to belong to the Coral Blade."

"The two of you are going to occupy every raider the Coral Blade throw at you?" George said skeptically. "How many do they have?"

"Somewhere over two dozen," Razor estimated. He smiled knowingly. "Red and I got some really good weapons when the Snake Eye clan was overrun. We can hold them for a time, and we've got explosives for when we leave. They'll have to climb over the top, and we'll go out through the water, blowing up whoever might be following."

Kevin swallowed hard. It was a good plan, but the cunning and ruthless skill the scavenger displayed made Kevin nervous. Razor had a greater intelligence than other scavengers, and it made him even more dangerous.

"Alright," George spoke up. "It sounds as if we're in agreement. If there isn't anything else, we'll launch our attack at nightfall."

No one said anything to contradict George's conclusion, so the meeting came to an end and the preparations for the coming raid began.