Crossbones by John L. Campbell Read Free Book Online Page A

gym.
    Calvin was older than Xavier by about ten years, but now he looked senior by at least twenty. A gray ponytail hung down his back, and he was dressed in jeans and boots. A sleeveless leather vest revealed lean, muscled arms. The man had ten days of gray stubble on his drawn face, and the lines at the corners of his eyes,put there by sun and laughter, had deepened from grief. He looked pale, and his eyes no longer gleamed with mirth. Calvin carried an assault rifle, a big knife, and a woman’s wedding ring hung from a thong around his neck.
    â€œSorry to interrupt, Father,” he said.
    Xavier finished tying his shoes and stood. It had been only two days since he last saw Calvin, but he was nonetheless startled by the man’s appearance. He looked washed out. “Are you feeling well, Cal? Getting enough sleep?”
    The man shrugged but didn’t reply. He tapped a legal pad he was holding. “I wanted to give you some updates. I can come back if you’re busy.”
    Xavier frowned. Even the man’s voice was diminished, no longer booming and gregarious, and he now spoke only of business, never about his family. Xavier would see him moving quietly through compartments and passageways, usually alone and rarely speaking, tending to the needs of those on board; ensuring they were fed, properly quartered, had enough clothing, and were staying healthy. The only thing he seemed to speak about with any passion these days was his constant reminder to remain watchful and stay out of the unsecured areas of the ship.
    He’d lost his wife and brother within hours of one another, followed by more than half the members of his traveling hippie family during the taking of
Nimitz
. Like Xavier, he bore the weight of that, but in his case, it had devoured him.
Ghost
was the word that came to Xavier’s mind when he saw his friend. Pale, silent, lacking any spark of life.
    â€œGrab a seat,” Xavier said, indicating the chair.
    Calvin didn’t take it. “I won’t be long.” He looked at his pad. “Yesterday’s hunt bagged four drifters down in engineering. No casualties. Chief Liebs thinks they’re coming in from the bow.”
    Xavier’s frown deepened. It was something he and the chief had discussed at length, both of them frustrated by the lack of asolution. The aircraft carrier’s forward decks remained a nest of zombies, mostly in the lower areas. The survivors had tried to contain them, but
Nimitz
was a rabbit warren of passageways, ducts, and connecting compartments, and somehow the dead were slipping into the rest of the ship. Not in great numbers, he conceded, but even one of them in a supposedly secure area could be disastrous. The only way they would ever be safe was by hunting down every last walking corpse, and that was a task not without peril, especially in the bow.
    â€œThe doc reported a slip on a ladderway that caused a twisted ankle, and one bump on the head that needed stitches.”
    â€œKnee knocker?” the priest asked. Calvin nodded. Knee knockers were the oval-shaped openings for hatches in corridors and compartments, designed to strengthen the ship’s overall structure. The lower portion rose six inches above the floor, while the arched top was lowered, requiring ducking. Passing through them at any speed required timing and kept Rosa in practice with her needle and thread. Both men had visited her for such injuries, angry at their own clumsiness.
    â€œHow is Maya?” Xavier asked, interested in her health, but more interested in getting Calvin to speak about his family.
    â€œShe says the pregnancy is normal and on schedule,” the hippie leader replied, speaking as if Maya were a stranger and not his firstborn.
    Xavier tried again and smiled. “You’re going to be a grandfather. How’s it feel?”
    Instead of answering, Calvin began a terse, bullet-point report on food supplies, fresh water levels, the