For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (35 page)

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Authors: Colin M. Drysdale

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BOOK: For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak
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‘Daz,
I told you to stop messing around!’ I was beginning to lose my temper.

‘No, I
saw it again! The thing I saw before: it’s a boat!’

I
searched the waters around us, but saw nothing. ‘What sort of boat?’

‘A
little one; a rowing boat or somethin’ like that.’ Daz’s eyes were sweeping back
and forth across the sea. ‘I’ve lost it again, but it was definitely a boat, an’
I think there’re people in it.’

‘Where?’

Daz
pointed off the right-hand bow. ‘Over there somewhere. No’ too far away.’

‘And
you’re sure it was a boat?’

‘Definitely!’

I made
a quick assessment of the situation: if there was a small boat out here with
people on it, then they were in trouble, especially in these seas. Instead of
turning to the east, I turned until we were heading in the direction Daz had
indicated. ‘Daz, go up front. See if you can spot it again. If you do, call out,
but keep your eye on it; don’t lose it. Point at it and keep pointing. Sophie,
Claire, stand by the mast; you can relay any instructions between Daz and me.
Tom, I need you to stay back here and adjust the sails.’

Within
moments, everyone was in position and the boat was cutting as close to the wind
as I dared. The waves were now crashing over the bow on a regular basis, and
Sophie squealed as a particularly large one drenched her. I heard Daz call out
from the bow and saw him point.

‘Claire, what did he say?’

‘He
says he can see it now. Straight ahead, about 100 yards.

Daz
called out again and Claire relayed it back to me. ’Fifty yards. I can see it
now, too.’

Another few seconds and I caught a glimpse of it myself. Daz was right; it was a
small rowing boat, no more than six feet long. Two people were huddled towards
the stern. Neither of them had realised we were there; instead, they were
concentrating on something lying on the bottom of the dinghy that I couldn’t
see.

‘Claire, I can see them now. Tell Daz to get back here, we’re going to have to
do some pretty tight manoeuvring to get them alongside.’

Claire
arrived back in the cockpit. ‘What d’you mean get them alongside?’

‘We’ll
need to take them on board. We can’t just ignore them. That boat won’t last much
longer out here in this weather, and if they end up in the water, they’ll
drown.’

‘But
what if they’re infected? Remember that man back at the blockade? The carrier?
Remember what happened when Pete took him on board?’

That
hadn’t even occurred to me and the possibility distracted me momentarily.

‘Ben,
look out!’ Daz leapt into the cockpit, grabbing the wheel and turning it sharply
to the left. The yacht heeled steeply onto its side and we narrowly avoided
smashing into the wooden dinghy.

‘Shit!
Thanks, Daz.’ I took a few seconds to compose myself, not believing I’d almost
run them down. ‘We’ll turn up into the wind and heave to. Then we can work out
what we’re going to do.’

With
the others following my directions, we soon came to a halt some twenty yards
upwind of the dinghy, rising and falling each time the heavy swell passed under
us. Unsurprisingly, since we’d very nearly run them down, the people on board
had finally noticed our presence and were waving frantically.

‘So
what do we do?’ I turned to find the others looking at me enquiringly.

I
scanned the dinghy. ‘They don’t look like they’re infected.’

Claire
scowled. ‘But that doesn’t mean they’re not carriers, does it? They could have
been bitten or injured in some way; if there’s even a small risk of that, it’s
too great.’

Sophie
was holding on tightly to the guard rail as she swayed back and forth with the
movement of the yacht beneath her feet, eyes fixed on the tiny boat. ‘But, Mum,
we can’t just leave them here, can we?’

‘Yeah,’ Daz chimed in.

Tom
did his best to avoid making eye contact with me, ‘Sorry, Ben. I’m afraid I’m
with Claire on this one.’

‘But
if they’re not infected and we leave them there, they’re going to die.’ I looked
from Claire to Tom and back again. ‘You want that on your conscience?’

‘No, I
suppose not,’ Tom mumbled noncommittally. ‘But still, it’s a risk; isn’t it?’

I
glanced at the rowing boat: the two people were now calling out to us, but their
words were being whipped away by the wind before they reached us. ‘They don’t
seem sick right now. Claire, d’you think you’d be able to tell if they’re
carriers or not?’

‘If
they are, they’ll have an injury of some kind, and I should be able to find it
if I examine them.’ It was Claire’s turn to look at the dinghy, which was now
only about ten yards away. ‘That’s if they’ll let me.’

‘Okay,
so how about this? We’ll pick them up for now. You can examine them, and if
you’re sure they’re not infected, we can take them back to Tobermory. If you
think there’s even a chance of them being infected, or if they won’t let you
examine them, we’ll drop them off on one of the uninhabited islands nearby; then
we can wait and see what happens. Does that sound like a plan?’

There
were nods all round.

 

‘Fuck!’ Daz was peering over the side of the boat. ‘What happened to him?’

The
wooden dinghy was now alongside the yacht, inside were two women, one in her
late twenties, the other probably in her thirties; neither were dressed in
waterproofs and their clothes were soaking wet. Both looked terrified and
exhausted. Now the rowing boat was beside us, we could see a third person lying,
unconscious, in the bottom. He was young, maybe only a couple of years older
than Daz and from the colour of his skin, he looked close to death. The reason
for this was clear: his left arm ended in a mass of blood-soaked rags just above
the elbow.

‘He
got bitten by one of
those
people.’ It was the younger of the two women
who spoke first. ‘He didn’t have a choice, he had to cut it off.’

Claire’s eyes narrowed. ‘How long?’

The
woman stared blankly, seemingly confused by the question. ‘What?’

‘How
long between when he was bitten and when he cut his arm off?’ It took me a few
seconds to work out what Claire was thinking.

‘I
don’t know, maybe two or three minutes.’ The older of the two women answered
this time. ‘Why? What does it matter? Are you going to help us or not?’

‘Was
he the only one who got bitten?’ Claire was observing the women closely; their
clothes were stained with blood, but neither had any visible injuries.

‘Only
him,’ the younger woman gestured to the man lying in the bottom of the dinghy.
‘They attacked us out of nowhere.’ She shook her head, ’I just don’t understand
where they came from.’

‘When
did all this happen?’

The
women looked at each other and shrugged, then the older one answered. ‘I don’t
know; five hours ago, maybe six at the most.’

Claire
straightened up. ‘Okay, get him on board and I’ll see what I can do.’

 

‘He’s
not going to make it.’ Claire and I were down in the cabin; on Claire’s orders,
the others had remained in the cockpit. Claire continued. ‘He’s lost too much
blood, there’s nothing I can do. What he really needs is a blood transfusion and
there’s no way we can do that out here, not without the right equipment.’

She
moved over to the sink and washed her hands. ‘Probably just as well really. Feel
his forehead; he’s burning up.’

I
reached out and put the back of my hand against his skin. Sure enough, he was
hot to the touch; sweat was starting to bead and roll down the sides of his
head. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It
most likely means he’s infected.’ Claire dried her hands. ‘They said it was a
couple of minutes between when he got bitten and cutting his arm off. Given how
quickly the virus seems to affect most people, I doubt that would be quick
enough. Once it got into his blood stream, it would have been pumped round his
body in seconds.’

‘So
how long before he turns?’ The thought of having someone infected with the
disease on board terrified me.

‘I
don’t know. I guess it depends on how much of the virus got into the rest of his
body before he did the amputation, but I don’t think it really matters.’ We both
looked at the man. His breathing was shallow and erratic, his skin pale, almost
grey. Claire turned away. ‘With the amount of blood he’s lost, he’ll be dead in
minutes.’

I
glanced towards the companionway. ‘We need to get him off the boat as soon as
possible.’

 

‘So
how did you end up all the way out here?’ Tom was sitting with Sophie and Daz on
one side of the cockpit, while the two women sat opposite. ‘I mean, where did
you come from?’

It was
the older woman who answered. ‘We’re from Iona. We’ve been doing pretty well
there, really. Then yesterday, these two people with the disease appeared out of
nowhere. I didn’t recognise them. I don’t know where they came from. We haven’t
let anyone near the island since we heard that Mull had been overrun, and none
of us have been off it other than to fish.’ She shook her head. ‘Before we knew
it, we were running for our lives; I think some of the others made it back to
their houses, but I don’t know for sure. We ran for the boats. They chased us
though.’

‘Just
the two of them?’ Daz was clearly wondering how this had happened.

‘No,
there were others by then.’ The younger woman interjected. ‘People who’d been
attacked, lots of them. People I’ve known all my life: friends, relatives …’ Her
voice tailed off into silence.

The
older woman picked up where the younger one left off. ‘We got there just in time
and jumped into the first boat we found, only Ruairidh stayed on the dock to
untie it and that’s when he got bitten. There was a fish knife tucked under the
gunnels. He grabbed it and cut off his arm: I don’t know how he could do it. He
had to snap the bone once he’d cut through the skin and muscle.’ She looked up
as Claire and I climbed into the cockpit. ‘How is he? Is he going to be okay?’

Claire
took a deep breath, ‘No, I’m afraid he’s …’

Before
she could finish, there was a roar from behind us. Instinctively, I pushed
Claire out of the way as I turned to see what was happening, but something hit
me before I was even halfway round, sending me sprawling face-first onto the
deck. I heard screaming and shouting above me as I tried to free myself, but I
was pinned by the weight of the man on my back. I kicked and thrashed, expecting
to feel his teeth sinking into my neck at any moment, his hands ripping into my
flesh, but before any of that happened, I heard the sound of a heavy blow and he
went still. I pushed up with my arms and felt him slip to the side. Not knowing
what I was going to find, I leapt up, my eyes darting round the cockpit.

For an
instant, everything seemed frozen: Claire was scrambling to get back to her
feet; Tom and Daz were standing on the seats on one side of the cockpit where
they’d jumped to get out of the way; the two women on the other: all were
staring down at the man, who was now lying, lifeless, on the deck. His head had
been shattered, and fragments of his skull mixed with hair, blood and brains.
Standing over him was Sophie, shaking, a heavy winch handle gripped tightly in
both hands.

 

‘That’s us here. Let’s see what we can see.’ Mitch adjusted the throttle and
turned the seaplane to the left, bringing it low over the shoreline.

We’d
arrived back in Tobermory an hour after unceremoniously dumping the lifeless
body of the young man over the side, and alerting the others on the radio. By
then, Mitch had offered to do a fly-over to find out more about what had
happened on Iona. I was keen to find out too, so I volunteered to go with her.

It
took a little over twenty minutes before the island came into view and we
started to descend. Almost immediately, we saw two people shuffling slowly along
an otherwise deserted road.

‘There!’ Mitch pointed and brought the plane around in a tight circle. Below us,
a knot of infected surrounded a two-storey house which stood slightly apart from
a small group of other buildings. A man leaned from one of the upper windows,
waving frantically up at us. Mitch took the plane in low, momentarily
distracting the infected which crowded round the homestead, trying desperately
to break in. Iona had undoubtedly been overrun, but it seemed that at least some
had survived.

 

In the
ten minutes it took to fly the length of the island and back, we’d found three
houses which, judging by the infected clustered round them, had groups of
survivors inside. We were debating what to do next as we flew over the island
one last time just to make sure there weren’t others we’d missed on the first
two passes.

‘Mitch, I agree we can’t just leave them like that, but we can’t really do
anything about it either. We can’t take on that many infected. We’re not
equipped for it.’

‘So
what are you suggesting instead?’

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