Free The Fall of Society (Book 2): The Fight of Society by Thonas Rand Page B

They were nine in total.
                “Sir, we’ll get to secondary control and stop the ship. You and the others should go to the CDC and stop this before we lose the ship altogether,” Phillips said to Ardent.
                Ardent was visibly moved by the gesture of his crew, but it was momentary as he had to maintain the appearance of a captain, “Very well, Commander. God speed.”
                “Thank you, sir. Same to you.”
                “Okay, sailors of the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan, let’s move out!” Phillips ordered.
                “Commander?” Ardent said to Phillips. “What you’re doing, what all of you are doing… it won’t be forgotten.”
                “Thank you, sir,” he said and led his group away.
                “Good luck,” Bear said solemnly.
                As Phillips headed to a back hatchway to exit, someone ran up to the door on the other side, shouting and pounded on it to get in. The man screamed as the dead attacked him. They could definitely hear him through the thick steel hatch. Phillips and his men prepared to open the hatch and when they did—they saw four stenches devouring a sailor as he fought back with sprays of his blood covering the corridor. Phillips and two others fired and killed the undead. The sailor remained on his back in a pool of his own blood and excrement from his ripped innards.
                Phillips finished him off.
                The group moved on cautiously through the dark bowels of the ship until they disappeared toward what they could hear ahead—the rampaging dead, the living that were either dying or fighting, and gunshots echoing everywhere—and it was the former that took precedence.
                Bear closed the hatch on them.
                Now they were only six.
                “Is everyone ready?” Bear asked the sailors with them.
                They acknowledged that they were.
                “Sir, ready when you are,” Bear said to Ardent.
                Ardent looked at the sailors with them. They were so young; too young to be going through this, but this was war—the death of the young and the loss of innocence. He looked at the female sailor with them. She was scared out of her mind and the assault rifle she held was almost as big as she was. Even though she wasn’t black, something about her face reminded Ardent of his wife when they first met. Her pure beauty shined that on him.
                He hated remembering that right now—not now—he needed his edge if he was going to save what was left of his crew and his ship. He needed to be sharper than ever before in his life, and his crew needed to see him strong. It would help their survival.
                “Hand me your weapon, Ensign,” Ardent said to the female.
                “Yes, sir,” she answered and handed it over.
                Ardent gave her his smaller machine gun, “Take this one, it’s easier to handle.”
                “Thank you, sir.”
                “Okay, listen up,” Ardent told them. “Remember, shoot them in the head and only the head, anything else and it’s your life. Don’t fire fully automatic, single fire only. Make every shot count. Are we clear?”
                “Yes, sir!” they all confirmed.
                “Commander Reyes, bring up the rear.”
                “Yes, sir.”
                “Let’s move,” Ardent said.
                They headed for another hatch on the other side of the armory. They listened, heard nothing, so they opened it cautiously. The corridors were empty and they proceeded toward the bow of the aircraft carrier…
     
    • • •
     
                Commander Phillips’ group eased down the quiet corridors of the lower