A bullet screamed past George's head and struck a metal support beam in a small burst of sparks. Resembling a Wild West gunslinger, George drew out the pistol holstered at his side and fired. His aim was far superior to the scavenger who had attacked him, and the bullet dropped the man where he stood.

"Time to go," George said, returning his gun to its holster.

"Yeah," Kevin agreed.

Abandoning the fuel drum they were attempting to claim, Kevin and George jumped onto the transport float with the barrels they'd already collected. While Kevin started the motor they'd attached to the rear of the cargo platform, George released the cable securing them to the rig.

"Let's give them something to keep them busy," George suggested, drawing out a grenade and pulling the pin. He tossed the weapon onto the refining platform and took a firm hold of the transport float, bracing for the expected turbulence.

Kevin planted his feet and tried to maintain a steady course as the grenade went off. The explosion of the grenade itself was minor compared to successive detonations that followed in a chain reaction. Steel fuel drums were set ablaze and burst in thunderous fireballs resembling an out of control fireworks display.

Metal supports gave way and collapsed as whole sections of the refinery folded in on themselves, creating an ear hurting din of clanging metal. Bursting fragments of the station were thrown out to sea where they hissed and extinguished when they made contact with the waters. Larger pieces of debris created great waves of displaced water, chasing after the small cargo transport trying to get away.

Although the damage to the refining station was extensive, the worst harm to the scavengers came from what the explosion did to the drilling platform. Secured along the side of the tower structure were the long pipes used for the undersea drill. The explosion shook the pipes loose, and similar to a tree falling, the pipes slowly tipped away from the rig, gaining speed as they fell until they splashed down in the water.

George had to abandon his grip on the side of the transport in order to steady some of the fuel drums threatening to topple overboard. Kevin turned the motor several times, trying to even out their course over the turbulent waters caused by the falling pipes. The transport was buffeted and tossed, but it managed to stay upright and moving away from the rig.

Unfortunately for the scavengers, the angle the pipes fell was shallow and left one end still on top of the platform, allowing a gentle enough slope for the undead in the waters below to start crawling up to the rig. They began emerging from the bay and slowly traversing the pipe until they reached a point where it crossed a portion of the platform. Falling off like dead fish, the corpses flipped onto the rig with sloshing sounds.

The long duration under the waters of the bay had loosened the skin of the undead, and it hung from their skeletons like clothes several sizes too big. They were waterlogged and the liquid poured off of them with every step toward the scavengers.

The Coral Blade clan had their hands full putting out the fires on the connected refining station and attempting to fix the damage caused to the drill rig. The unexpected arrival of the undead immediately gave them other concerns, dividing their focus and limiting their effectiveness. As gunfire erupted across the station, the scavengers did their best to eliminate the encroaching ranks of the undead, giving Kevin and George the time they needed to make a clean escape.

***

Razor and Red surfaced near their ship and pulled off their scuba flippers to climb the ladder hanging off the prow of the vessel. They were already on alert as the ladder wasn't supposed to have been lowered until they returned. Quietly reaching the main deck, Razor softly set down the waterproof bag holding his rifle and drew a knife from his belt with each hand.

Red slipped over the side and onto the deck with the fluidity and silence of a cloud of mist. Following Razor's example, she put down her rifle and readied her knives. The dagger in her right hand was a kris, recognizable by the distinctive waves along the length of the narrowing blade, but the knife she carried in her left was flat and designed for throwing.

They proceeded slowly, eyes and ears alert for the whereabouts of the crew and the possible threat that might be onboard with them. Razor held up a hand and pointed with his knife. Red followed the indicated direction and saw a smear of crimson across the deck. The blood trail indicated a wounded body had been dragged away. By the amount of blood left behind, Razor doubted the person who owned the blood was still among the living.

He spied a few civilians wandering a loose patrol near the stern and on the starboard side, but they had yet to notice him. If similar people had been watching the port side of the foredeck, they were most likely dead, taken silently when the guards weren't looking.

His suspicions high, Razor tightened his grip on the twin combat knives he carried and followed the blood trail. He was careful to avoid stepping in the blood and compromising his secure footing, but he kept his eyes moving around the ship as he knew the smear might have been left behind as a distraction. Anyone who spent too long looking for the body where the blood had come from might end up joining it in death. Scavengers, especially those of the Coral Blade, were infamous for laying traps and ambushes for the unwary.

A hatch was open at the base of the structure leading up to where the bridge overlooked the full length of the vessel. A bloody handprint marked the side of the hatch in several locations. Razor didn't know how many of the prints were attackers and how many belonged to the defenders, but they did indicate the involvement of at least five people.

Stepping through the hatch, Razor began traversing the darkened interior of the inner corridors. Red followed at a respectable distance, wanting to support him as best she could without impairing his ability to move or react to sudden threats.

The first attack came not from in front but from behind. A scavenger, having hidden among some overhead pipes, dropped down and attacked Red after she'd passed his location. He attempted an overhead slash, trying to stab her in the side of the neck from behind, but Red's reaction speed was incredible. She spun, swinging her left arm in a circle and catching the side of her opponent's wrist as it descended. Her throwing knife, angled downward in her left fist was able to hook around the opposite side of the man's wrist and give her control of his weapon hand.

In a circular motion, Red pushed the man's arm down and away. The kris she gripped in her right hand struck with the speed of a cobra, stabbing the man twice in the chest and puncturing both lungs. She turned him loose, cutting the back of his hand in the process.

A second scavenger attacked as the first wilted to the floor, gasping for air. He tried a straight stab at Red, but she dodged to the outside of his thrust and smashed her right fist down on his forearm. As the man's weapon hand was pushed down, Red turned her wrist and angled her blade under the man's chin. A firm thrust upward spilled the man's blood and ended his life in the same movement.

Razor was opposed by three scavengers, but the narrow corridor prevented them from attacking at the same time. They all brandished coral blades in their hands, eager for a deadly fight at close range. As the first scavenger rushed him, knife leading the way, Razor swung across and under with his left hand, catching the underside of the man's wrist and forcing it up toward the ceiling. The move left Razor's opponent completely unable to block the knife in Razor's right hand as he stabbed the man repeatedly in the stomach and chest.

Shoving the dying man backwards, Razor entangled the body with the two men behind him. Before either scavenger could extricate themselves, Razor jumped over the corpse and attacked both of the scavengers with his knives. Blood sprayed the walls and covered the floor in widening pools as he completed his grisly task.

The hallway was clear of opponents, so he looked back toward Red. She was dropped to one knee, avoiding a knife cut by the last scavenger still alive and fighting in the narrow passageway. Red stabbed the man sideways in his left knee with the kris in her right hand, and when retracting the blade, sliced into the upper thigh of his other leg. Twisting her wrist, she cut across his stomach while pulling the blade back across. Her kris was now above her right shoulder and in perfect position for a downward strike into her opponent's chest. She finished him off in a final thrust.

Pulling her blade free, she stood and checked the surrounding area for any other scavengers lurking nearby. With the passage secured, she followed Razor as they moved deeper into the ship.

***

George tossed the mooring line to one of the men on deck, and the transport float was quickly pulled in and secured. Going first up the ladder, he was followed closely by Kevin.

"Get the crane working," Kevin instructed the man they met on deck. "We need this fuel loaded into cargo nets and pulled aboard as quickly as we can."

"I can't leave my post," the man protested. "I'm on guard duty."

"Guard duty?" George repeated questioningly.

"Isabella didn't want to leave the ship open to attack and posted us around the perimeter."

"Good thinking," Kevin said, looking over the ship. "Why is the port side undefended?"

"Hadley is stationed on the port side," the man reported as he looked to his left. "He was there. I don't know where he could have gone."

George drew his gun at the same moment as Kevin pulled out his bow and shook it once to make the compact weapon spring out into its ready form for firing. Kevin already had an arrow in hand, putting it to the bowstring in a single fluid movement.

"We need to get everyone together, right now," Kevin whispered. "Once they're safe, we can start clearing the ship."

"Let's make it fast," George suggested. "There's no telling on how long the scavengers will fight the undead. If they know we're here, they might abandon the rig and try to take the ship with their full force."

The thought of the full clan coming against a ship loaded with untrained refugees sent a shiver up Kevin's spine.

"Let's start with the bridge," Kevin stated. "Isabella is probably there, and we could use another person with a gun."

The three men headed toward the ladder leading to the bridge, gathering up the other deck guards they could find. Of those assigned, four were missing.

Shaped like a capital T, the bridge at the very top had a ladder descending down to the main deck. Although a long climb, it provided the most direct route clearly free of hostiles. George went first, scurrying up the metal rungs with the speed and skill of a squirrel climbing a tree. Kevin and the others were hard pressed to keep up with his pace.

Not waiting for the remaining members to join him, George kicked open the hatch standing slightly ajar and entered the bridge. The overhead lighting lit everything in stark and crisp detail. Blood had splattered the wall beside the hatch he'd come through and across the front window. The crimson splattered window had been too far away for him to have seen it from the deck or he would've increased his pace further.

A scavenger lay dead beside the hatch with its back against the wall. The torso of the body had been torn apart by a close range shotgun blast. A headless corpse lay on the far side of the room, in a similar state of death.

Keeping his pistol ready, George pulled a knife in his opposing hand, ready for any opposition. A long and bloody smear marked the floor, and George spun around a control station, ready to shoot if it was a scavenger.

"Isabella!" George shouted when he found his elderly companion slumped against the wall. Empty shotgun shells littered the ground around her, but most were stuck in the blood pool in which she lay.

Isabella didn't move at George's exclamation, and he couldn't tell if she was breathing. Careful not to slip in the blood, he kneeled beside her to assess the damage. A deep stab wound marked her lower abdomen on the right side, and lacerations had cut across each arm and her left shoulder. Despite her face being covered by a fine misting of blood, George couldn't find any corresponding injuries and deduced they were from her opponents.

Kevin reached the bridge and called out. "George?"

"Over here!" he answered, desperation filling his voice. "I need a medical kit!"