For Those In Peril (Book 1): For Those In Peril On The Sea (21 page)

We left early, Jon, Mike, Jimmy and myself in the runabout, and entered Little Harbour shortly before midday. Jon put the boat into neutral and we drifted in the middle of the small bay. Two boats floated at anchor and the mast of a third stuck out of the water where it had sunk.
I scanned the shore with the binoculars but could see no infected. Nothing moved. There was a small, semi-open wooden building that seemed to be a bar a few feet from the water’s edge, its floor made of sand. Part of its roof was missing, damaged undoubtedly by the recent storm, and the picnic tables that had once nestled below shady trees were lying on their sides amongst fallen palm fronds and coconuts. Here and there, half-buried beer bottles stuck out of the sand.

Before the world collapsed, this would have been an idyllic place to spend a summer’s afternoon, drinking cocktails and wasting away the hours, cooled by a gentle breeze from the ocean. I thought about days I’d spent like that and wondered if I’d ever be able to do the same again. I did my best to push these thoughts from my mind before they started getting me down.

Other than the palm trees, there was nothing useful within our reach. Even the coconuts that lay beneath them were out of bounds. There could be infected hiding in the enclosed parts of the bar and if there were, they’d be on us before we could make it back to the runabout. We turned our attention to the boats. Mike banged on the hull of the first one and a cacophony of sound erupted from it. I shook the can of spray-paint we always carried for this purpose and drew a skull and crossbones on it. We went over to the second and found it too had infected on board. I marked it in the same way. We tried the third boat, tying onto the mast while Jon and Mike dived down to see if there was anything worth salvaging. There wasn’t. This was depressing and it looked like the whole day might be a bust.

‘What now?’ Mike was standing at the wheel with his hand on the throttle.

‘We go back, I guess.’ I disliked the idea of returning with nothing. ‘There’s not much else we can do.’

‘What about going a bit further south?’
Jon looked across at me. ‘I was looking at the cruisers’ guide last night. There’s another settlement a few miles down the coast.’

I glanced at my watch and thought about Jon’s suggestion. It was still early and we had plenty of time before we’d have to start for home.

‘I don’t know. Our plan was only to go as far as Little Harbour. That’s all we agreed with the others.’ I was nervous about making any changes. If something went wrong, no one would know where to find us.

‘Come on. It won’t take long. We’ll just take a look, see if it’s worth coming back.’ Jon was keen and I could see from their faces that Mike and Jimmy were too.

‘Okay, but just to take a look.’ The words were barely out of my mouth before Mike pushed the throttle forward and we were off, heading round the point that marked the eastern side of Little Harbour.

‘Hey Mike, slow down a second, there’s something on the beach up ahead.’

‘What is it?’ Jimmy craned his neck trying to get a better view.

‘Don’t know. Let’s get a little closer.’ Mike angled the runabout towards the shore.

‘It’s a shipping container!’ Jon exclaimed.

Sure enough it was a shipping container, some twenty feet long and eight feet high, nestled in the sand. Judging by its position, it couldn’t have been there long and most likely it had blown ashore in the storm. Mike manoeuvred the runabout so we could get a better look.

‘D’you think there’s anything inside it?’ Jimmy was excited by the possibility.

‘Hang on, something’s not right.’ At first I couldn’t put my finger on it but then it hit me. The sand in front of one of the doors had been cleared away and it lay slightly ajar. From all I’d seen of the infected, they’d probably have been unable to work out how to open the doors, and they’d definitely have been incapable of working out that they’d need to clear the sand away first. This meant only one thing: there had been other people here, uninfected people, and they’d been here recently.

‘I think we need to check this out.’ Jon was staring at the container as he spoke.

He was right and there wouldn’t be too great a risk. The container was close to the water’s edge and I could see a good distance along the beach in both directions. There were dunes at the back of the beach, but I could see the top of the bar sticking over them and the area around it looked pretty clear.

Mike pulled the boat so close to the shore that it was almost touching the sand and Jon slipped over the side. I held my breath and readied the rifle as he edged tentatively towards the container. Jon circled it once and then banged on the side. No noises came from within. I looked around nervously, but no infected appeared. I turned my attention back to Jon and watched as he peeked inside.

‘I don’t think anyone’s home.’ Jon yelled across to us. ‘I’m going in.’

With that he pulled the door open and disappeared inside. He’d been gone for about ten seconds when there was a shout and he shot back into the sunlight.

‘Mike, get ready to go as soon as he’s back on the boat.’

‘Way ahead of you.’ I glanced around to see Mike had his hand on the throttle, ready to jam it into reverse at a moment’s notice. When I looked back at the beach I saw Jon wasn’t running for his life, he was just jogging towards us.

‘It’s full of cans: boxes and boxes of cans. It’d last us for months.’

This was an unexpected bounty.

‘Any sign of anyone?’ I asked.

‘Nope. Just the cans.’

I pondered what to do for a moment before coming to a decision. ‘Okay, I’m coming to take a look.’

I leapt over the side and waded ashore. Jon threw back one of the doors, letting in just enough light to see what was inside. It was half-filled with cardboard boxes, some piled in neat stacks while others lay jumbled on the floor. The cardboard was damp but not soaking. I tore the nearest box open and pulled out a can of peaches. I opened another one. This time it was full of peas.

‘This might be just haul we need to carry us through till the garden boats are ready for their first harvest.’ I was speaking as much to myself as to Jon.

‘Hey, it looks like someone’s been sleeping in here.’

I went over to where Jon was standing. There was a blanket, a teddy bear and a bottle of water tucked into one of the corners on top of eight boxes laid out like a small bed.

‘Jon, see if you can get a few of these boxes into the boat. We’ll come back for the rest later. I’m going to take a look around.’

‘Okay, but be careful.’

I considered this. As long as I stayed on the beach, I always had the safety of the sea to turn to. The infected wouldn’t follow me into deep water and I could swim back to the boat.

I stepped back into the sunlight, my eyes taking a few second to readjust to the brightness. I searched the sand around the container. I could see both my footprints and Jon’s but there was another set, small and bare-footed, probably a child. There was no sign that anyone else had been there. I wondered what a child would be doing out here on their own, how they’d come to be alone on the beach, how they’d survived. I looked at the tideline. It was further up the beach than the container meaning the child had walked along the beach since the last high tide. I glanced at my watch. That had been only a few hours before.

I followed the footprints with my eyes. They snaked along the beach to the south. I walked a short way and could see the footprints continued, meandering between the water’s edge and the high-tide mark, until the shore turned a corner and disappeared from sight. I looked back. Mike had dropped an anchor off the back of the runabout and tied the bowline to the container. He was now wading ashore to take a box that Jon was carrying out from the container. Jimmy sat on the bow cradling the rifle. I searched the surrounding area. There was no sign of any infected, no sign of another living creature apart from the footprints. I followed them along the beach, watching them as they hopped, skipped, stepped on tippy-toes, turned and walked backwards. I got the impression the child who had made them was a girl. From their size, I guessed she was ten, maybe twelve at the most. However she’d got here, wherever she’d come from, I knew she wouldn’t last long on her own.

I reached the corner of the beach and rounded it expectantly, but all I found was the footprints continuing along the sand, still hopping and skipping playfully until they reached a rocky outcrop that jutted out into the sea fifty yards from where I stood. Here the footprints finally disappeared. The rocks were about twenty feet high and while the sides were steep they weren’t insurmountable. It would be a scramble rather than a climb to get to the top and it was one a child could easily manage. I wondered if she was even now just on the other side, waiting, lost and lonely.

I turned back to the runabout. Jon and Mike were loading more boxes onto it while Jimmy remained on watch. I knew I should go back and help them, but they seemed to have everything under control. I scanned the beach. There were still no signs of another single living thing. I knew if I followed the footprints any further I’d move out of sight of the others. I wouldn’t be able to see what was happening with them and they wouldn’t be able to see anything that happened to me. I knew that going back was the right thing to do, but the thought of what might happen, what would inevitably happen, to the child if I left her there alone was just too much.

I hovered there for a few minutes, looking towards the container and then to the rocks where the footprints disappeared and then back again. By now, the boys had finished loading the boat and were playing around on the sand. I smiled as I thought about how normal it seemed. I turned my attention back to the footprints. I could be at the rocks in a minute, maybe two at the most, and if I climbed up onto them I would be able to see far down the beach beyond. If the child was there I’d be able to see her. If not, at least I’d know for sure I hadn’t left her there, alone and just out of sight.

I made my decision and jogged to the base of the outcrop. I scrambled up and peered over the top. About seventy yards down the beach I could see a small boat with a rigid hull surrounded by inflatable pontoons, the type often used as a fast, nippy tender for larger yachts. It was lying on the shore, tipped onto one side near the high-tide line. This must have been where the girl
was heading, what she came ashore in. But she couldn’t have driven it here herself. I looked further down the beach, but the sand was smooth, unruffled by feet since the last high tide. I climbed a bit higher to get a better view, but I could still see no evidence that anyone had walked along the beach, either to or from the stranded boat, since the last high tide.

I was just wondering where the girl had gone when I heard a sound that seemed to come from directly below me. I looked down and my heart leapt into my mouth. Beneath me, right at the base of the other side of the outcrop, two infected were crouching over the remains of a young girl, her long hair matted with blood. My approach had been silent and they didn’t realise I was there. I watched in horror as they picked at her open belly, pulling at her guts, feeding on her. The girl’s body twitched as one of them pulled out her heart and bit into it, blood oozing out as it did so. Her eyes stared, motionless, clouded, into the sky, a look of terror frozen on her face.

I felt the bile rise from my stomach and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick, but I knew there was nothing I could do for her. Instead, I tried to focus on getting back to the runabout in one piece. It wouldn’t be long before the infected sensed my presence and then they’d attack. The rocks were steep enough to make it difficult for them to clamber over, but it wouldn’t hold them for long and the greater the head start I had the better. I climbed backwards down the rocks, trying not to make a sound. Suddenly, I felt a bit of the rock break off under my foot and I fought to stay on the outcrop. I managed to hold myself on, but my heart was thumping and my legs shaking. I stopped, trying to calm myself before continuing my descent. A second later and I slipped again, this time falling the last twelve feet. As I landed I let out a yelp of pain. I heard the infected stir on the other side of the rocks.

They knew I was there.

I jumped to my feet and ran, keeping to the hard sand close to the water where running was easiest, blood pounding in my ears. When I reached the corner, I glanced back and saw one of the infected outlined against the sky on the top of the outcrop. I had enough of a head start to make it back to the boat before the infected got to me, but we wouldn’t want to linger. I looked ahead of me, expecting to see the others waiting in the runabout but it was empty and no one was in sight. I swore under my breath, my lungs bursting as I ran as fast as I could.

As I reached the container, I realised where they were. They were inside. I could hear them chatting and laughing. I looked back as I ran. The infected were closing fast. They’d be on us in seconds. The only thing working in our favour was that at least there were still only two of them. I had to make a split-second decision. I could run for the boat, but the others would be attacked without warning before I could get to where the rifle had been left leaning against the console. I chose, instead, to skid round the front of the container, pulling the door closed behind me, I slammed the lever home, locking us inside.

‘Hey, what’re you doing? We can’t see anything.’ Mike was indignant.