them.”
Chapter Six
Pasir Gudang Bay
Straits of Malaysia
There was enough petrol in the containers to spread liberally across the deck and down the stairs into the galley of the creaky derelict fishing trawler.
Tomas splashed flammable liquid along the walls in rainbow patterns. It should only take seconds for the flames to engulf the cracked and bent planks of the fifty-year old vessel, he thought.
He splashed the high-octane fuel across the peeling surface, making sure to douse the controls and captain’s chair in the interior of the wheelhouse. When the last can was empty, he stepped out into the night air to take a final count of the patrol boats in the area. He had been lurking on the dock on the Malaysian side for the last two hours, carefully monitoring the steady and predictable patterns of the three Singapore Coastal Patrol vessels canvassing this portion of the strait.
Tomas could hear the steady hum of the closest patrol’s engines as it cruised along the exact center of the territorial waters, careful not to stray onto the Malaysian side.
He recalled his last conversation with Dr. Greer, “Tomas, Singapore has been quarantined. Please be extremely cautious. There’s word out that people are going crazy and there are stories of cannibalism. They haven’t reported it as zombie fever because the symptoms are unlike anything seen before.” She leaned into the camera. “It must be IHS-2. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but you must get inside Singapore, find those girls and get them here. You can’t afford to fail. This virus has been unleashed on a population of five-million people. The odds of it spreading globally are now astronomical. Our sources tell us that within the last few hours, a quarter million Singaporeans have been infected.”
And that was two hours ago.
At the current rate of transmission, it’s now closer to a half million zombies roaming Singapore’s streets, parks and rain forest, mindlessly hunting, ruthlessly driven to find victims to host and spread the virus.
Vitura Pharmaceuticals has opened a Pandora’s box when they tampered the original strain of the zombie fever virus.
Tomas sat behind the ancient craft, picked up a socket wrench and ball-peen hammer, and tooled around with the small shiny new outboard he had mounted on the rear; the sleek battery-powered thruster a stark contrast to the knotty, barnacled hull. He lightly tapped the handle of the socket wrench against the bolts of the rigging, making sure it was secure. He was slightly concerned that the thrust of the tiny motor wouldn’t be enough to push the trawler across the divide before one of the Typhoon MK 25 millimeter stabilized naval guns mounted on the patrol boats blew it out of the water.
He glanced at his watch, the luminescent dial reading 10:38 p.m.
Still too early to cross.
According to the smuggler who had sold him the craft, the optimal time to cross the kilometer-long Johor strait was right after eleven when the large container ships were scheduled to set out towards the open waters of the South China Sea and the Singapore Coastal Patrol began its crew rotation at the naval dock a few clicks east.
Tomas sat against a post beside the motor, shielded from view of the infrared scopes mounted atop the patrol boats. His mind started to race so he leaned onto his stomach and began doing push-ups to burn off the excess energy.
As he briskly pumped out eighty push-ups, his thoughts drifted to Abigail. He felt an instant connection to her. Abigail seems different, he told himself, she’s nothing like Jan. Not that he knew anything about Abigail, other than what he had read from the CARS reality show press releases and the few hours he had in her company. Of course, during that time, he was mostly focused on driving her and her companions to the center of a zombie hot zone to be evacuated by helicopter.
Tomas faltered at one hundred twenty push-ups. He paused on one
Chapter Six
Pasir Gudang Bay
Straits of Malaysia
There was enough petrol in the containers to spread liberally across the deck and down the stairs into the galley of the creaky derelict fishing trawler.
Tomas splashed flammable liquid along the walls in rainbow patterns. It should only take seconds for the flames to engulf the cracked and bent planks of the fifty-year old vessel, he thought.
He splashed the high-octane fuel across the peeling surface, making sure to douse the controls and captain’s chair in the interior of the wheelhouse. When the last can was empty, he stepped out into the night air to take a final count of the patrol boats in the area. He had been lurking on the dock on the Malaysian side for the last two hours, carefully monitoring the steady and predictable patterns of the three Singapore Coastal Patrol vessels canvassing this portion of the strait.
Tomas could hear the steady hum of the closest patrol’s engines as it cruised along the exact center of the territorial waters, careful not to stray onto the Malaysian side.
He recalled his last conversation with Dr. Greer, “Tomas, Singapore has been quarantined. Please be extremely cautious. There’s word out that people are going crazy and there are stories of cannibalism. They haven’t reported it as zombie fever because the symptoms are unlike anything seen before.” She leaned into the camera. “It must be IHS-2. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but you must get inside Singapore, find those girls and get them here. You can’t afford to fail. This virus has been unleashed on a population of five-million people. The odds of it spreading globally are now astronomical. Our sources tell us that within the last few hours, a quarter million Singaporeans have been infected.”
And that was two hours ago.
At the current rate of transmission, it’s now closer to a half million zombies roaming Singapore’s streets, parks and rain forest, mindlessly hunting, ruthlessly driven to find victims to host and spread the virus.
Vitura Pharmaceuticals has opened a Pandora’s box when they tampered the original strain of the zombie fever virus.
Tomas sat behind the ancient craft, picked up a socket wrench and ball-peen hammer, and tooled around with the small shiny new outboard he had mounted on the rear; the sleek battery-powered thruster a stark contrast to the knotty, barnacled hull. He lightly tapped the handle of the socket wrench against the bolts of the rigging, making sure it was secure. He was slightly concerned that the thrust of the tiny motor wouldn’t be enough to push the trawler across the divide before one of the Typhoon MK 25 millimeter stabilized naval guns mounted on the patrol boats blew it out of the water.
He glanced at his watch, the luminescent dial reading 10:38 p.m.
Still too early to cross.
According to the smuggler who had sold him the craft, the optimal time to cross the kilometer-long Johor strait was right after eleven when the large container ships were scheduled to set out towards the open waters of the South China Sea and the Singapore Coastal Patrol began its crew rotation at the naval dock a few clicks east.
Tomas sat against a post beside the motor, shielded from view of the infrared scopes mounted atop the patrol boats. His mind started to race so he leaned onto his stomach and began doing push-ups to burn off the excess energy.
As he briskly pumped out eighty push-ups, his thoughts drifted to Abigail. He felt an instant connection to her. Abigail seems different, he told himself, she’s nothing like Jan. Not that he knew anything about Abigail, other than what he had read from the CARS reality show press releases and the few hours he had in her company. Of course, during that time, he was mostly focused on driving her and her companions to the center of a zombie hot zone to be evacuated by helicopter.
Tomas faltered at one hundred twenty push-ups. He paused on one
Similar Books
Mystery Of The Sea Horse
Lee Falk
The Coal War
Upton Sinclair
Come To Me
LaVerne Thompson
Breaking Point
Lesley Choyce
Wolf Point
Edward Falco
Fallowblade
Cecilia Dart-Thornton
Seduce
Missy Johnson
