For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (18 page)

In the
meantime, the military had given up any pretence that the politicians were still
in control and had assumed command of the country. They were also continuing to
move in on the media and most of the news broadcasts were starting to sound more
like public information films than journalism. The main message seemed to be
‘Stay inside and stay safe’. An emergency number was being displayed along the
bottom of the screen which people could call if they saw any infected, or if
they thought they might have become infected themselves. A curfew had been
introduced and the army was now patrolling the streets of the major cities
alongside the police, halting the slide towards anarchy which had been gaining
momentum over the last couple of days. Scotland might have been lost, but at
least it seemed like they were managing to maintain some sort of control in the
rest of the country. This pleased Bob, and he passed round bottles of beer in
celebration. Claire relieved Sophie of the one she’d been given before she could
even take a sip and, much to his annoyance, she took Tom’s, too, telling him he
shouldn’t really drink while taking the antibiotics.

Chapter Eight

The
following morning, we met the others who were tied up in the holding area; there
were seventeen of them in all, and they stopped by in ones and twos to check up
on what was happening on the television. Word had clearly got round that we were
happy to trade food for news, so when they came, they didn’t arrive empty handed
and we soon had enough food to last us for several days.

All
day the news was improving; it seemed the tide was finally turning, and England
and Wales might yet be saved. The military was now running every game in town,
including all the television channels. No matter which one we switched to, they
all showed the same pictures: some were live; others pre-recorded; all suggested
things were being brought under control, and our spirits started to rise.

Only
Claire remained sceptical. ‘Look, we can’t trust what they’re saying. They want
us to believe they’ve got it all sorted out; they haven’t: they can’t have.’ She
paced back and forth in the cockpit. ‘There’s no way they can get a grip on
this, not this quickly. Look at what’s happening elsewhere; if the Americans
can’t get things under control after Miami, we sure as hell can’t after Glasgow.
They’re just saying what they need to say to keep people off the streets.’

‘Oh
come on, Claire. Surely you can’t really be that paranoid, can you?’ Tom was
sitting with his back against the cabin watching her. ‘Can’t you give them the
benefit of the doubt, even for a moment or two?’

‘You
don’t know these people; I do. It’s what they do.  It’s their job.’ Claire
stopped. ‘I’ve seen it before.’

Daz
was leaning on the wheel and this caught his attention. ‘Where’ve you seen
anythin’ like this before?’

Claire
gazed into the distance. ‘Sierra Leone. Sudan. Rwanda. The Congo. The military
always thinks it’s doing what’s best, even when it’s doing the worst.’

I felt
the need to interrupt. ‘But this is nothing like any of that. This isn’t a civil
war; it’s a disease.’

‘It’s
not the cause that’s important; it’s the way those with power react when their
way of life is threatened.’ Claire was staring straight at me. ‘You can’t
understand it until you’ve seen it.’

I
could tell from her eyes she was keeping something back. I wondered if it was
because Sophie was listening, but before I got a chance to ask, there was a
shout from our left; the large black ribs were approaching, towing an empty
wooden rowing boat. In one of the ribs, there were two men dressed not in
uniforms, but in civilian clothes. They both looked young — early twenties at
the most — and sat huddled together, surrounded by the heavily armed marines.

As
they came closer, I could see that one of them had a black eye and was holding
his arm delicately. He wasn’t the only one who was hurt; one of the marines was
sporting a series of ragged scratches across his cheek. Once they were close
enough, the naval officer we’d spoken to the previous day hailed us. ‘Hey, can
you take these guys for us? It’s against orders to take anyone back to the
frigate and they’ll end up dead if we leave them floating around in that.’ He
pointed to the rowing boat.

‘I
don’t know.’ I eyed the two men suspiciously. ‘Are they okay?’

‘Yes.
There was just a bit of, er ... resistance, shall we say, when we tried to pick
them up.’ He glared at the man with the scratched face who, in turn, was doing
his best not to catch anyone’s eye. ‘They really shouldn’t be out here, but it’s
not like we can take them back to shore. The land’s not safe anymore; at least,
not around here.’

‘I’ve
got plenty of room. They can stay on my boat.’ I looked up to see who was
speaking. I’d talked to the man earlier in the day, but I couldn’t remember his
name. He was on his own on a thirty-foot yacht tied up at the other end of the
line of boats, but when the ribs had arrived, he’d been sitting on Bob’s boat,
chatting to us as Bob cooked them some food down below.

The
rib with the civilians on board came alongside and the marines helped the two
men out and onto our deck. I watched as they moved unsteadily onto the next boat
and then followed the man as he led them across to his yacht.

‘They
look like they’ve never even been on a boat before.’ I turned back to the rib.
‘What the hell were they thinking?’

The
officer leant on our guard rail. ‘I guess they were just trying to survive, and
when you’re desperate you’ll try anything.’

He let
go of the guard rail and rubbed his face with his hands, clearly exhausted.
’How’s your man doing? The one with the infection.’

‘Ask
him yourself. He’s sitting right there.’ I pointed towards Tom.

Tom
smiled. ‘I’m happy to say, the antibiotics have pretty much got it under
control.’

‘Good.
Here, catch,’ He tossed a small package to me. ‘A few extra, just in case. I …
eh-em … liberated them from the ship’s doctor.’

‘Thanks.’ I opened the bag and peeked inside: it contained several bottles full
of capsules. ‘But won’t you get into trouble for this?’

He
chuckled. ‘Seems unlikely; I‘m the first officer.’

I
looked at him curiously: it seemed odd that someone so far up the chain of
command would be running around in a rib, herding up strays trying to flee by
sea.

‘I
know what you’re thinking. It’s just that there have been a few
incidents.’
He scowled at the highest-ranking marine, who adjusted his stance and stared
back defiantly. The other marines suddenly took an intense interest in their
boots in a bid to avoid making eye contact with either man. ‘And the Captain
thought there’d be a better chance of it not happening again if someone more
senior went out on patrol with them.’ He took off his cap and ruffled his hair.
‘I was happy to volunteer; it’s nice to get off the ship now and then, and it’s
not like we’ll be getting shore leave any time soon.’ He replaced his cap and
adjusted it. ‘Anyway, we’ll leave those two,’ he nodded to where the two men
were now sitting on the boat at the far end of our little flotilla, ‘in your
capable hands.’

As the
rib started to leave, there was a shout behind me. ‘Wait! I want to speak to you
before you go.’ I turned to see Bob scrambling up his companionway. ‘Hey wait!
When’re you goin’ to let us go? I need to find ma family. Hey! Come back!’

Ignoring him, they left. As the boat disappeared off into the distance, Bob
crumpled on to a seat in his cockpit, ‘Shit! I don’t think they’re ever gonna
let us get out of here.’

‘I
don’t know about you guys, but I don’t plan on staying here for much longer.’
I’d finally found out that the name of the man who’d taken the two newcomers
onto his boat was Pete, and he was addressing a group of us who’d gathered in
the cockpit of Bob’s boat; we were doing our best to make a dent in what seemed
like an endless supply of beer which he had on board.

Bob
opened another bottle and threw the cap into the water. ‘What’re you goin’ to
do?’

‘One
night, when there’s no moon up, and it’s nice and dark, I’ll pull up my anchor
and see if I can slip past the blockade.’ He sipped the beer he was holding.

Bob
pointed his beer bottle at Pete, slopping some of its contents onto the deck.
‘You won’t stand a chance! I got here before you guys; I saw what it was like
before they put that officer on the ribs … when it was just the marines. There
was another boat here, an’ it tried to sneak past the blockade on the first
night.’ He took a slug of beer. ‘But they were spotted an’ when they caught up
with them, they didn’t even try to turn them back; they just opened fire. They
were pretty much right beside them an’ they used the big machine guns, the ones
mounted on the ribs themselves. The boat was riddled in seconds an’ started
sinkin’.’

I
thought about how much damage the bullets from the Erskine Bridge had done to
our bow, from 500 yards away. Up close, they’d have ripped holes the size of
dinner plates in the fibreglass hull of a yacht: they wouldn’t have stood a
chance.

Bob
carried on. ‘There were eight of them on board. Some of them made it out of the
cabin, but before they could launch their life raft, they were machine-gunned,
too.  All of them.’ Bob’s voice started to waver. ‘Even the kids.’

The
cockpit went quiet as everyone digested this new information. Daz was the first
to break the silence. ‘How’d they know they were tryin’ to sneak past? You know,
if it was dark an’ all?’

Bob
took another slug from his bottle. ‘Radar: I’m guessin’ that’s how they’re
keeping an eye on us, and how they found us in the first place. I mean, it’s the
only way one ship could monitor the whole channel. The moment we move, they’ll
know about it.’ He looked towards Pete, ‘Even if it’s pitch-black.’

I
played with my empty beer bottle. ‘Maybe we need to start talking to them; make
them see us as something more than collateral damage. If they start seeing us as
people and not just prisoners, or whatever we are to them, they might start
listening to us, giving us some information. Maybe they’ll even let us go.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’ Claire took a mouthful of beer. ‘Not if they are
as trigger-happy as Bob says they are.’

Tom
picked up a bottle, and Claire glared at him. He shrugged back at her. ‘One beer
can’t hurt.’ He reached for the bottle opener. ‘That first officer seems pretty
decent. He’s already given us antibiotics and he seemed happy enough to talk to
us earlier. From what Bob said, he’s the one keeping the marines in line. Maybe
he’s someone we can work with.’ There was a slight hiss as he opened his beer
and took a swig.

‘Maybe.’ Bob scratched the side of his head thoughtfully with the top of his
beer bottle. ‘The only trouble is, they won’t answer when we call them on the
radio, an’ they only come close enough for us to speak to them when they’re
bringin’ new people here. The rest of the time they just watch us from a
distance.’ He drained his beer and tossed the empty bottle over his head; there
was a splash as it landed in the water. ‘Wouldn’t hurt to give it a go, though,
would it?’

***

‘Daz.
Lines!’

I’d
been woken in the middle of the night by the sound of screaming. Rushing up on
deck, I saw a commotion on Pete’s boat. I grabbed the spotlight and shone it
into the darkness, revealing a horrific scene: Pete was grappling with one of
the young men the marines had left with us that afternoon, trying his best to
fight him off as the man clawed and tore at his face; blood pouring from the
jagged wounds. Pete backed away, trying desperately to escape, but he tripped
over a winch, landing heavily between the cockpit and the guard rail. The man
fell on him, ripping through his clothes and into his belly, sending long coils
of his intestines spilling across the deck and over the side. They hung there,
jerking back and forth, smearing blood across the white side of Pete’s boat, as
the man buried his head into his abdomen, Pete’s mouth slowly opened and shut as
bloody bubbles emerged from it. Somehow, despite his wounds, he was still alive.

The
deck lights of the neighbouring boat came on, flooding the area with light and
the young man’s head snapped up. As the blood dripped from his face, I could see
he had the unmistakeable stare of an infected. He leapt to his feet and lunged
at a woman just emerging from the cabin of the next boat. Before she knew it,
the infected man was on her, but he didn’t attack her for long: people were
appearing on the decks of all the boats, distracting him. Back on Pete’s boat,
the other young man sprang into view and leapt over onto the neighbouring boat
where the woman was pulling herself back to her feet; yet he ignored her. The
reason for this became clear when her young daughter appeared and was instantly
set upon. The girl screamed as her mother pinned her to floor and bit into her
neck, sending blood spraying across the cockpit. By this time Daz and Claire
were on deck, while Sophie and Tom were coming up from below.

I
shouted at Daz again. ‘Lines! Now!’