The Infected Dead (Book 2): Survive For Now by Bob Howard Page B

We could tell he was going back to that night and picturing their escape. A dozen boats running in single file with one red light on the bow. Well-armed, well trained men and women who gave him and his daughter a chance to live.
    “I can only think of our trip down the Waccamaw River in something like fragments, or number of miles,” he said. “The first fragment was only four miles long, and we had nothing to fear from the west bank except people who had dropped anchor along the dense forest that ran along the river. The east bank was lined with about three dozen large houses and private docks. If we were going to run into shooters, it was likely to be from that side.”
    Tom took another long swallow from his beer before going on. Before he started, he put his head down and was staring at the table. I figured eye contact wouldn’t be easy.
    He continued, “I learned from one of the soldiers that the man in charge was a National Guard Captain with a good reputation named Anthony Marchant. The soldier told me Captain Marchant was from the area, and he had a good idea of what to do to survive. He said we were lucky.”
    Tom was quiet for a moment, and Kathy told him to take his time. Details were important no matter how small or trivial they might be. Tom said he was okay, and that he could go on.
    “When we formed up in single file and started down the river, Molly and I were in the fourth boat. There were quick introductions all around, but something kept me from hearing names. I think it was all too unreal to be exchanging pleasantries as we were watching people die.”
    Tom told us that getting clear of the boat landing wasn’t a problem because civilian craft had given the armed boats a wide berth. Many of them were content to just stay out in the middle of the river to wait for something to happen. After all, they had nowhere to go.
    When the military and police boats began to idle into formation, civilians who had dropped anchor began pulling them in so they could follow the firepower. I think that’s what all of us would have done if we had been there in our boats.
    “As we pulled away from the boat landing, we got a better view of what was happening up on the bridge. The screaming, the running, the cries for help that were being ignored……there was nothing anyone could do,” he said.
    “We could see from the center of the river that cars were pulling out of traffic onto the shoulder of the road, trying to make it to the same turn where the police officer had told us to go. A steady stream of cars were making it to the turn and trying to reach us before we pulled away from the boat landing. None of them would make it to us in time.”
    “The lead cars started honking their horns to get our attention, hoping we would wait for them. I could see the infected starting to make the same turn down the road toward the boat landing. The honking horns attracted more infected dead and weren't helping the people who were trying to escape. It wouldn’t be long before those people were trapped where they were.”
    Jean said, “It’s not your fault, Tom. If the Captain had told the boats to pick up more people, the boats would have been overwhelmed.”
    “I know,” he said, “but how many times have you asked yourself why you were one of the chosen? One of the people who got to live?”
    Kathy said, “There isn’t a day that goes by that we each don’t think the same thing, Tom. I can’t count the number of times we’ve been spared by luck or by the courage of someone in our group.”
    Tom went on, “One of the first cars to the boat landing was carrying weapons, and they began firing at us when we didn’t stop for them. Everyone kept their heads down, and our convoy increased speed to get out of range. Two of the boats received the order to lay down cover fire, so they began shooting over heads or at the ground in front of the desperate people who were shooting at us. I don’t think we lost anyone, but