For Those In Peril (Book 1): For Those In Peril On The Sea (28 page)

As I picked up the microphone to call Jack, I thought back. Just before the last hurricane the
infected had started to act so jittery and here they were acting strangely again. Maybe it wasn’t just about the light from the lighthouse. Maybe there was another reason they’d flocked here. Could they sense something coming? Did they know how bad it was going to be? Was this why they were crowding into the most sheltered place on the island? If it was, I couldn’t help but think it was a bad sign — a very bad sign — of what was heading our way.

  Chapter Nineteen 

Everyone in the community worked through the night and, by early the following morning, the garden boats were secured and covered, their rain-catchers removed and safely stowed. The runabouts were tied up in the most sheltered part of the anchorage, sails were stripped and packed away, dinghies were stowed in cabins. Boats that had been tied up alongside each other were separated and anchored far enough apart so they wouldn’t damage each other in the coming storm. By this time, the winds were strong enough to make it difficult to move around the harbour. By lunch, the rain started to descend in earnest, falling in sheets upon the deck of the catamaran. We were as ready as we could be and all we could do was wait. As before, we sat around the crowded cabin, resting on the piles of gear that were wedged inside it. The mood was sombre and Jon’s absence weighed heavily on us all. There was little I could think of to raise the spirits of those around me, and even if I could, with my own at rock-bottom, I doubted I would’ve made much difference.

The winds increased throughout the afternoon and into the early evening. By nightfall, it was howling through the rigging and we were being tossed this way and that. Despite the shelter provided by the harbour, the waves were reaching several feet in height. This itself was not an issue. The catamaran was designed to deal with waves many times larger, but only if they were open ocean waves; long, well-spaced, smooth and rolling. These waves were short and choppy, and were packed tightly together. The boat lurched and shuddered as they beat against its hulls. This was much worse than the previous hurricane. I wondered if the boat would hold together, and what we would do it if didn’t.

I wasn’t the only one having such thoughts and over the radio I could hear frantic calls between the other boats. One had already been badly damaged, its broken mast laying half on deck and half in the water. The people on it were safe for the time being, but with each wave the boat crashed against the crossbars. It would be only so long before they ripped a hole in the hull. If the people
on board were lucky it would be above the waterline, if they weren’t … I didn’t want to think about it.

I watched the other boats dance like puppets controlled by a maniac, the position of each one marked by the light streaming from their cabins. Every now and then one would disappear and I would hold my breath until it appeared again on the top of another wave. I wondered about the infected on the nearby shore and how many of them would end up in the water, swept there by the wind and the waves. I wondered how many more drifters would be created by the storm.

At two in the morning, the winds started to ease and then dropped to a slight breeze. Once again we were in the eye of the storm, but this time no one wanted to go outside. I looked at the others. As before, Andrew was terrified but this time so were Mike and Jimmy. Jeff’s head was buried against CJ and she held him tightly. CJ was the calmest of them all, but I could see it was an act; that she was trying to keep it together for the sake of the boys. I was again struck by how much she’d changed. Like Jon, she’d been forced to grow up fast by the events that had overtaken us, and, like Jon, she’d stepped up to the challenge.

‘What’s that?’ Mike was pointing over my shoulder and out through the cabin doors. I followed his out-stretched arm to where a beam of light was shining through the harbour entrance. As I watched, it passed along the shoreline as if someone was trying to find their way in. I called Jack up on the radio and told him what I could see. The light grew brighter, and eventually a boat appeared.

‘That’s David. What the hell’s he trying to do?’ I wasn’t really speaking to anyone in particular.

Suddenly, I felt someone behind me and I turned to find CJ clutching the rifle. ‘Out of my way, Rob. I’m going to kill him.’

I could see her eyes were filled with rage. ‘CJ, you can’t. No matter how much he deserves it, you can’t do it.’

CJ tried to push passed me and I had to grab her. We struggled for a minute before I finally managed to prise the gun from her hands. 

‘Give me the fucking gun, Rob. Give it back.’ She was almost crying as she said it.

‘I can’t let you do it, CJ.’ I pulled her to me and hugged her.

‘It just hurts so much to have lost him, and all because of that bastard.’

I could feel tears streaming down her face.

‘Did you see that?’ Andrew sounded shocked.

David’s spotlight had flick
ed upwards momentarily. His rigging was shot and the top half of his main mast was gone. We watched as he tried to manoeuvre the damaged boat into the harbour. It was large and heavy, and it was difficult for one man to handle even at the best of times, let alone in the middle of a storm.

The light swept
back to the sides of the narrow channel and I could see David was too close to the rocks on the southern side. He must have seen this too because he turned the boat sharply to the north, taking it towards a row of docks that stuck out into the harbour. Before he could correct his course again, the spotlight slipped from his hand and fell onto the deck, coming to rest shining straight up at him. He made a desperate figure, soaking wet with a large gash in his head, his left arm clearly broken and hanging uselessly at his side. Given the state he was in, it was no wonder David was having trouble steering the boat and holding the spotlight at the same time.

The light that revealed David’s battered condition also blinded him. He scrambled to pick it up and eventually managed to retrieve it. He shone it forward just in time to see his bow crash into the nearest dock. I could hear the engine rev as he flung it into reverse, but the boat didn’t move. He shone the light forward again, sweeping it from side to side, showing that the metal guard rail had become entangled in the splintered woodwork of the dock.

The spotlight suddenly flicked along the dock and fell on a horde of infected streaming towards the stricken boat. David turned it back to the bow and the engine revved again. As the boat strained against the dock, the guard rail slowly began to bend as the screws holding it to the deck gave out one by one. In a few seconds it would be torn off and David would be free, but when the spotlight shone on the dock once more, I saw that the first of the infected were almost at its bow. The engine screamed as David opened it up as far as it would go, but it was too little too late. The infected were on board and running towards the cockpit. David was flashing the spotlight around, looking desperately for a way out, but before he found one the first of the infected was upon him. Weaponless and injured, there was nothing he could do. The spotlight dropped to the deck once more, revealing a flailing and terrified David. He had his right hand tight around the neck of his attacker and was doing his best to hold it off. It clawed at him, tearing at his face. Soon another was on him and then another. They ripped at his belly, opening it up and spilling his bowels across the deck. David was struggling, trying to fight them off, but I could see his strength starting to fade. More infected arrived and started to fight for their share, grabbing any part of David they could get hold of and pulling. His left arm was torn from his body and I watched as two infected squabbled over it. Another was chewing on his cheek. I saw David try to move his head away and couldn’t believe he was still alive. The spotlight was sent spinning across the deck, its beam revealing the stream of infected coming on board, before it finally went out. We wouldn’t have to worry about David any more. I heard CJ mutter something about how he’d got what he deserved, and I found it difficult to disagree.

As I reached for the VHF radio, I felt the boat shift beneath me. The eye had passed over us, the winds were starting to turn and pick up again. Soon, we’d be back in the teeth of the storm. I made a quick call to Jack to tell him what I’d seen.

‘How badly is the boat tangled in the dock?’ Jack sounded deeply concerned.

‘Not too badly. He’d almost got it free before he was overrun.’

‘Christ!’ The radio crackled. ‘That’s not good. That’s not good at all.’

It took me a second or two to work out why Jack was so worried. While the wind had previously been blowing from the south, towards the shore where David had hit the dock, it was now blowing from the north, away from the shore. I looked at the ketch and saw it was already straining against the dock, the railings at the front bending further with each gust. If the winds in the second half were as st
rong as the first, I doubted the boat would stay trapped for long and once it was free, it would be sent crashing through the harbour. The ketch was heavy and if it rammed into an anchored boat, the other boat would almost certainly come off worst. I’d heard stories of how much damage one loose boat could do in an anchorage and I didn’t want to think of what might happen if David’s boat broke free. Then another thought hit me.

It wasn’t just the boat we had to worry about. Before the spotlight had finally gone out, I’d seen thirty or forty infected crowding the deck, with more pushing to get on, all desperate to get a piece of David. If it managed to break free, the boat would carry its unwanted passengers with it, spreading them throughout the harbour and onto any vessels it hit. Being closest we were the first in line.

‘Shit, shit, shit!’ The others were looking at me, scared by my sudden change of mood. I needed to think, to get some sort of plan together.

‘What’s wrong?’ CJ had a concerned look on her face.

Ignoring her, I flicked my eyes back and forth, searching for something, anything that might help.

‘Rob, you’re starting to scare the boys.’ CJ’s voice was cracking under the stress. She knew something was wrong, seriously wrong, but I don’t think she realised just how bad the situation might soon become. I pulled myself together, I needed to tell them. I needed them to help me work out what we were going to do.

‘Right,’ I tried to collect my thoughts, ‘Here’s the situation. As the wind picks up, it’s going to push David’s boat away from the dock. Before he died David had almost pulled it free and the wind will do the rest. When that happens, it’s going to come straight at us. If it hits us, it’ll do a lot of damage, maybe even sink us. Even if it doesn’t, we’ll be in trouble. All those infected on board, they’re going to know we’re in here. They’ll try to get onto our boat. We can probably deal with one or two but any more than that and there will be enough of them to break through the cabin door. Either way, if that boat hits us, we’re in big trouble. We need to get a plan together. We need to work out what to do; if there is anything we can do.’

‘Can we move out of the way?’ Mike voiced the first thought I’d had.

‘No. By the time we get all the anchors up, the wind will be blowing at full strength again and it would be suicidal to try to move. We’d just end up hitting one of the other boats, causing just as much damage as David’s boat, and we’d probably still sink anyway. Either that or we’d end up on the beach with the infected.’ I glanced at the others. I could see from their faces that the seriousness of the situation was sinking in and I carried on. ‘Somehow we need to be able to keep it away from us if it gets too close.’

‘What about the fenders?’ CJ pointed to the large inflatable plastic tubes that lay in one corner of the cabin, ‘Wouldn’t they stop it hitting us?’

I considered this for a moment. ‘No, they’d only work if it was going to hit us side on. If David’s boat hits us, it’s going to be across the bows. We’d have nowhere to hang them from. And besides, if it gets close enough for the fenders to work, the infected will be able to get on board, and we won’t last long if that happens.’

CJ looked dejected, and I didn’t blame her. We were running out of both ideas and time. If there’d been enough room I’d have been pacing around. I always thought better when I was moving, but the cabin was crammed with stuff we were storing for the storm. I looked around. As well as the dinghy and the sails, we also had a rain-catcher from one of the garden boats. We’d taken it onto the catamaran because we couldn’t store it on the boat without damaging the growing plants. The wooden poles that kept it open were tied together and stowed alongside the galley. I focussed on the poles. Each was about ten feet long and something over two inches in diameter. A plan started to formulate in my mind. It would be risky, but it was our only hope. If Jon had been here, I’d have been more certain of success, but with just me, Andrew, CJ and the three boys, I doubted we’d have the strength. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped David’s boat would somehow stay stubbornly stuck on the dock, but I doubted it.

I glanced through the window. The ketch was now only held there by a single thin section of the guard rail.

I outlined my plan to the others. They looked sceptical and I didn’t blame them. I was pretty sceptical about it myself, but it was our only chance. As they struggled into their rain gear, I searched desperately through the lockers, looking for the safety harnesses. They’d helped save our lives when the white squall hit on the way to Miami, and they’d be the only thing that would stop us from being pitched into the sea as the boat bucked and bounced on the ever-building waves. I could only find five of them and there were six of us. I made a decision and passed the harnesses out to the others. None of us bothered with life jackets, not even Andrew. It would be better to drown than make it to shore and be ripped apart by the infected.

I turned on the deck lights and pulled back the cabin door. The wind howled, pulling at us as we stepped outside. The raindrops stung like bullets as they struck my face and the wind was so fierce that my eyes watered. One by one I checked the safety harnesses the others were now wearing. It was just as well, both Jimmy and Mike had put theirs on the wrong way round and would have slipped from them if they’d fallen over. I put them on properly and tightened them up. Then I clipped each of them onto the safety lines that ran up either side of the boat. I watched as they staggered up towards the bow. Jimmy and Jeff could barely stay upright as the wind tore at them. If I’d thought we could get away without them being on deck, I’d have made them stay inside, but we’d need every ounce of strength we could muster.