Suddenly, there was a shout and something moved in the darkness. In a flash, a
man in a cheap suit shot up the stairs and lunged towards me. I staggered
backwards, tripping over my own feet and falling hard against the wheel. As I
fell, the oar slipped from my grasp and skittered across the deck before
dropping into the water, leaving me with no way of defending myself. Luckily,
the man couldn’t seem to work out how to get through the cabin doors and was
repeatedly throwing himself at them; snarling and gnashing his teeth. The doors
shuddered and shook, and it seemed like they wouldn’t hold for long. I scrambled
to my feet, glancing around, trying to find something else I could use as a
weapon; just then, the wooden doors gave way, finally freeing the man from the
cabin. I did the only thing I could think of and dived for the side of the boat,
slipping through the guard rail and into the water just as he reached where I’d
been standing.
I
surfaced, wiping the water from my face; the man stood above me, his face
contorted with anger. I stared at him: he was perhaps a couple of years younger
than me, hair receding slightly more. His pale blue eyes bored into me, never
once blinking, an intense rage burning deep within them. As I swam back to the
dinghy, grabbing the oar from where it floated as I passed, he followed my
progress along the side of the boat, growling as he paced back and forth. I
tossed the oar into the dinghy and pulled myself out of the water before
reaching up to untie the rope from the cleat on the deck. The infected man
lunged at me again, just missing the tips of my fingers. I jerked my arm away
and, with my hands shaking, I decided to untie the other end of the rope from
the metal eye on the dinghy instead. Once it was free, I lay back as I drifted
away from the yacht, breathing heavily and thinking about what had just
happened. It was the second time in two days an infected had almost got me. That
was when I realised I’d need to start being a lot more careful. I sat up, and
using the oar, I paddled slowly back to the boat where Daz, Claire and Sophie
were watching me, shocked expressions on their faces.
Daz
helped lift the dinghy back out of the water. ‘Man, when he came out of the
cabin like that, I was sure you were a goner.’
I
straightened up. ‘You’re not the only one.’
Daz
put his hands on his hips. ‘How the hell did he get in there?’
‘I
guess he must have been injured by an infected, but got away and managed to make
it to the boat. He probably turned when he was in the cabin and couldn’t work
out how to get out again.’ I shivered, both because I was soaking wet, and
because I was reliving how close I’d come to being caught. ‘At least until I was
stupid enough to open the hatch for him.’
Across
on the other boat, the man was still stalking the deck, screaming with
frustration and hammering on the roof of the cabin. Daz shielded his eyes with
his hand. ‘Is there no’ a way we can knock him off into the water? That way, you
could go back on board an’ see if there’s any food an’ medicine an’ that.’
I
shook my head. ‘No, it would be too dangerous. What if he’s not the only one on
board?’
Daz
gulped. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Yeah,’ I let out a low sigh. ‘This whole survival thing’s going to be one hell
of a learning curve.’
We
left the boat with its infected passenger, and carried on southwards. By six
that evening, I could make out the dome of Ailsa Craig in the distance. Once we
were past that, we’d be free, but there was something else there, too, which
meant this might not be as straightforward as it would otherwise seem: the grey
and distinctive outline of a frigate. A dilemma started to form in my mind. I
could steer a course which would take us well clear of the warship, meaning we’d
finally be free of the Firth of Clyde, or I could steer for it and ask for help.
They’d almost certainly have antibiotics on board and they might be willing to
give us some, but they would then know we were there and it was unlikely they’d
let us past.
Before
I could make my mind up either way, the decision was made for me. Two large
black rigid-hulled inflatable boats appeared from the general direction of the
frigate and it was pretty clear they were heading straight for us. As they
neared, I could see that these ribs were about thirty feet long and each had a
large calibre machine gun mounted on its bow. I could also see that they were
crewed by two teams of heavily armed men. Not knowing what to expect, I sent Daz
and Sophie below, but Claire, unwilling to be ordered around, remained alongside
me in the cockpit.
I
heaved the boat to and waited for them to approach. Soon, there was one on each
side, standing about twenty-five yards off, their weapons trained on us.
A
loudspeaker mounted on the right-hand rib crackled into life. ‘Remain where you
are, and state the purpose of your voyage.’
I
tried to work out which of them was speaking. ‘We’re just trying to get to
safety.’
The
voice boomed out across the water again. ‘You’re in a controlled zone and you
need to stay within it until the situation’s resolved.’
‘When’s that going to be?’ Claire shouted back. I shot her an angry look;
nothing good could come from provoking them.
‘As
soon as the outbreak’s brought under control.’ The voice was stern and
authoritative.
Claire
was about to say something else when I quickly stopped her.
‘What
should we do, then?’ I waited for a response.
‘We’ve
set up a holding area. We’ll escort you there. How many do you have on board?’
‘There
are five of us: four adults and one child.’
‘Have
you got any medicines?’ Claire had stepped forward again. ‘We’ve got someone on
board who’s badly injured and he needs antibiotics.’
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed; the men stood up straighter and adjusted their
guns.
‘What
sort of injury?’ There was an edge to the voice now. ‘Were they bitten?’
‘No.’
I hurriedly explained. ‘We were up by the Erskine Bridge when Glasgow was
bombed. The explosion knocked us down, and he ended up with a burst lung.’ I
nodded to my right. ‘Claire here’s a doctor. She managed to sort it out, but the
wound got infected. We need antibiotics or he’ll die.’
‘What
antibiotics d’you need?’ The voice was softer now. I ran my eyes over the boat
again, and finally spotted the one with the microphone in his hand. He was
slightly taller, and a good deal older than the rest, and he was the only one
not carrying a machine gun. He was also dressed differently: while the others
wore the green berets of Royal Marine Commandos, he was wearing the black and
white cap of a senior naval officer. This was an odd combination to have on what
was little more than a patrol boat.
Claire
responded. ‘I’d prefer Doxy, but I’ll take anything you’ve got.’
There
was a brief discussion on the rib before one of the men put down his gun, took
off his backpack and started rummaging through it. There was another brief
discussion before the voice spoke again. ‘We’ve got Amoxicillin and
Tetracycline.’
‘Tetracycline’s close enough.’ Claire called back.
The
rib manoeuvred slowly towards us until it was within throwing distance. The man
lobbed a plastic tub in a gentle arc across the water that separated us from
them. Claire caught it with ease. ‘Thanks,’ she yelled back before turning to
me. ‘I should go and start him on these right away.’ With that, Claire
disappeared down the companionway.
Once
the rib was back in position, the voice came again. ‘If you drop your sails and
start your engine, we’ll escort you to the holding area.’
‘We
don’t have any fuel. The sails are all we’ve got.
‘Okay,
leave them up.’ The man’s voice sounded resigned: it would undoubtedly be a much
slower passage than he’d been hoping for.
Just
as the sun was going down, we arrived at the holding area immediately to the
north of Ailsa Craig, and within view of the frigate. There were five boats
there already: three sloops; a double-masted ketch, like ours; and a powerboat.
They had their anchors set and were tied to each other, side by side, making it
easier for the people on the different boats to speak to each other and giving
more space to move around. We dropped our anchor, manoeuvred ourselves alongside
the one on the nearest end and tied our boat to theirs in a similar fashion.
Once
we were in position, one of the ribs roared up and turned sharply, sending a
wave crashing against our left side. The men had their weapons slung across
their chests, clearly not anticipating trouble. The loudspeaker crackled into
life again. ‘This is the designated holding area; you’re to stay here until we
tell you otherwise. If you try to get past the blockade, we won’t hesitate to
use force to stop you.’
‘How
long are you going to keep us here?’ I yelled back.
There
was no reply; they simply shifted the engine into gear and sped off.
‘So
they got you, too, did they?’ I turned to see a man leaning on the guard rail of
the neighbouring boat. He spoke with a friendly, northern accent and there was a
half-full beer bottle dangling from one hand. ‘Where were you headin’?’
‘South.’ I rubbed the increasingly-long stubble on the side of my face. ‘We
were trying to get to the other side of Hadrian’s Wall.’
‘Yeah,
that might work.’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘I was thinkin’ St Kilda m’self.
Ain’t no infection goin’ to get there in a hurry. You can live on it, too.
People used to you know, right up until the thirties. I need to go get ma family
first, though.’
His
words were slightly slurred, but given what was happening to the world, I
couldn’t really begrudge him a drink or two.
‘Nice
vessel. Yours?’ His eyes lost focus for a moment, then he smiled. ‘Or d’you
borrow her, like I borrowed mine?’
‘No,
she’s mine.’
‘Very
nice.’ There was a pause as he examined the boat more closely. ‘Is that a
satellite TV receiver you’ve got there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does
it work?’ He sounded eager.
‘Yes.’
I was beginning to wonder where this was going.
Suddenly, he got serious. ‘Can I come across an’ watch the news for a while? I
want to be able to see what’s happenin’. I want to see if ma family’s safe.
They’re in Liverpool, staying with ma wife’s mother while I’ve bin away workin’
on the rigs. I’ve bin tryin’ to call them all day, but ma mobile phone’s not
workin’. The news on the radio’s just not sayin’ anythin’. I need to see
pictures.’
‘Okay,’ I beckoned to him. ‘Come on over.’
‘Great.’ The smile returned to his face. ‘I’ll bring a couple of beers.’
‘It
would be better if you could bring some food.’ I didn’t know whether he’d have
any to spare, but I thought there was no harm in asking. ‘We’ve not eaten all
day.’
‘That’s a deal!’ He started to go down into his cabin, but then stopped and
turned. ‘How many of you are there?’
‘Five.’
‘Right.’ He ducked inside and reappeared a couple of minutes later with some
cans of soup, a loaf of slightly stale bread and a six pack. Soon, he was
climbing over the guard rail and onto our boat; he was halfway into the cabin
when he saw Tom and froze.
‘What’s up with him?’ There was a touch of panic in his voice. ‘Did he get
attacked by one of
them
?’
‘No,
he just got injured. We got knocked down when they bombed Glasgow.’
His
mouth gaped in shock. ‘They bombed Glasgow?’
‘Yeah,
they pretty much incinerated it. I doubt there’s much left. There’s certainly no
one alive.’
‘They
never mentioned
that
on the radio. They said they were doin’ everythin’
within their powers to stop the outbreak, but they never said they’d done
that
.’
‘What
do you think “everything in their powers” meant?’ Claire snapped back.
‘I
don’t know.’ The man carried on down the ladder. ‘I didn’t really think about
it, but I never thought it meant
that
.’
Before
Claire could launch into another attack on the military and their tactics, I cut
her off. ‘Sorry, I forgot to ask, what’s your name?’
The
man waved, ‘I’m Bob.’
‘Bob
has kindly brought us some soup in return for us letting him catch up on the
news on the television. So if you’d like to join me in the galley, we can get it
heated up.’
Daz
and Sophie were on their feet almost immediately, and Claire wasn’t far behind.
Tom was already looking a lot better, but he was still too ill to do little more
than sit up.
I
called across to him. ‘Tom, you want some as well?’
‘Yeah,’ he shifted his position and winced, ‘that’d be great.’
As we
ate, we caught up on the latest news. It was only as I watched Bob as he saw
many of the images for the first time that I realised that no matter how
shocking they were, we were already becoming immune to them. Infected were now
being reported throughout Scotland and it seemed like the attempts to contain
them in the north had failed. The defensive line to the south, along Hadrian’s
Wall, seemed to be holding, but there were persistent rumours of people slipping
through: there just weren’t enough troops to guard every inch of it.