by Jack Heath
Ms Wagner reached for the box marked EMERGENCY FLARE.
‘No!’ Charith cried. ‘Not yet. Grab hold of something.’ Another left-hand bend was coming up. If Ms Wagner was on her feet when the bus turned, she could fly forward and hit the windscreen.
18:40 As they approached the corner, Charith blasted the horn again. If anyone was on the other side, they needed to know he was coming.
The motor screamed. The gears were strong, but gravity was stronger. The bus was rocketing downhill at sixty kilometres per hour and was still gaining speed. If Charith didn’t make this turn there would be no survivors.
He spun the wheel.
17:25 The bus careened around the corner. It hit the steel barrier and scraped along it, shooting sparks. The shriek of metal on metal was piercing. But the bus didn’t break through the barrier, or roll over. They made it around the corner, still on the road.
Charith looked at the intact wing mirror to check that the tyres on the right side hadn’t been damaged—
And then he saw something that sent tingles of terror down his spine.
‘Guys,’ he said. ‘We have a problem.’
The driver snorted. ‘You think?’
16:30 ‘The man who put the bomb on the road. The man with the gun. He’s chasing us.’
Ms Wagner looked out the window. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Charith could see a black four-wheel drive zooming around the bend behind the bus. The camouflaged man was at the wheel, his face inscrutable behind the mirrored sunglasses.
The black car was more nimble than the bus. It could take corners faster, and thanks to its working brakes, it could accelerate down the straights. It was catching up.
Charith didn’t know what the man would do when he caught up to them, and he didn’t want to find out.
‘What man?’ the driver demanded. ‘What gun?’
15:40 Charith could see that Ms Wagner was thinking hard. She didn’t look like she had a solution.
This was an obscure road—not much traffic on a day like today. No witnesses. The gunman could attack the bus and easily escape without being seen.
But once they crossed the bridge, they would reach some busy roads. There were shops, and a police station. Surely he wouldn’t try anything there.
‘We outrun him,’ Charith said. Then he slammed his foot down on the accelerator.
‘What are you doing?!’ the driver screamed.
Charith could hardly hear him over the roaring of the engine. He put his foot on the clutch, grabbed the gear stick and reversed what Ms Wagner had done before, putting the bus in a higher gear.
14:35 The bus zoomed down the slope, tyres humming on the asphalt. Seventy kilometres per hour. Eighty. The four-wheel drive shrank in the mirror.
13:10 The next bend was coming up. It wasn’t as sharp as some of the others, but Charith was going to hit it fast. ‘Brace yourselves!’ he shouted.
Everyone screamed as he spun the wheel. The bus took the corner at ninety kilometres per hour. The wheels on the right lifted completely off the ground. Before the bus could tip all the way over, Charith turned the wheel back. The wheels crashed down onto the road. Everyone bounced in their seats.
There was one more bend to go. A little further down the mountain, Charith could see the indigo water of the river and the bridge cutting a thin concrete line across it.
12:30 ‘Slow down!’ Ms Wagner yelled.
Charith checked the wing mirror. The black car was catching up again.
12:20 ‘I can’t,’ he said. He pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The engine snarled. Behind him, the passengers gibbered with fear.
The bus streaked towards the last bend. Charith held onto the wheel for dear life. As the turn approached, he pressed his foot against the brake—not because he expected it to work, but just because he needed a way to brace his body in the chair.
He hauled the wheel sideways. The bus screamed around the corner like a roller-coaster. The mountain swept past, centimetres from the windscreen. The wheels lifted off the ground once again—
10:25 And then came back down. The bus hadn’t rolled.
A cheer erupted behind him. His classmates were howling, not with terror but with delight. It wasn’t far to the bridge now, and there were no more tight turns. The curve of the road was gentle. Once they were on the bridge, Charith could put the gear stick in neutral and it would just roll to a stop. He thought that was how gears worked, anyway.
But there was a problem. The black car was still behind them, taking the last bend at speed. If they stopped on the bridge it would catch up. Then what?
09:35 The noise from the tyres changed as the bus rolled onto the bridge. Charith could just make out the busy shops on the other side. Another minute or two and they would reach civilisation—but Charith couldn’t drive through traffic at this speed. They would have to slow down first. And if they did, they would be at the mercy of the camouflaged man.
The black car had reached the bridge behind them. The man was leaning out the window. His black gun gleamed in his hand.
If he shot out the tyres, the bus could swerve off the bridge and smash down into the river.
09:00 ‘Take the wheel,’ Charith told Ms Wagner, and jumped up.
Ms Wagner sat down in the driver’s seat, put the gear stick into neutral and held the steering wheel with much more confidence than Charith had. He wondered if she’d driven a bus before.
08:40 Without Charith pushing the accelerator, or the gravity from the slope of the mountain, the bus was slowing down. It would stop before they reached the far end of the bridge.
‘What about the guy chasing us?’ Ms Wagner asked.
‘I’m working on it.’ Charith reached up and grabbed the box above the door. The one marked EMERGENCY FLARE.
He carried it down the aisle to the back of the bus. The other students, who didn’t know about the car behind them, cheered him on and slapped him on the back. One boy said ‘You’re crazy,’ but it sounded like a compliment.
Charith ignored them. Above the seats at the back there was a panel designed to pop out in an emergency. If the front of the bus was under water or on fire, passengers were supposed to be able to get out that way.
07:25 Charith kicked the panel. It shuddered but didn’t come out.
He kicked it again, harder. Other kids joined in, pounding the panel with their fists and feet.
It popped out so suddenly that Charith almost fell onto the road. The bus was still moving at a speed of at least sixty. The panel hit the asphalt right in front of the black car.
06:20 The camouflaged man was quick. He swerved into the wrong lane, avoiding the fallen panel, and veered back again a moment later. But it slowed him down, and forced him to put both hands on the wheel instead of readying his gun.
Charith opened the box. The flare launcher was a simple device made of orange plastic. It had a tube, a handle and a trigger. There were no flares in the box. Charith guessed one—and probably only one—was already loaded into the launcher. If he missed, he wouldn’t get another chance.
05:30 The man pursuing them was leaning out the window again. The gun looked steady in his grip. His finger was on the trigger. Looking down, Charith saw a red dot trembling on his own chest. The man was going to shoot him in the heart.
Charith aimed the flare launcher at the windscreen of the black car and pulled the trigger.
04:55 The flare shot out like a rocket, trailing red smoke behind the sparkling core as it hurtled towards the car. The light was so bright Charith had to shield his eyes.
The flare hit the windscreen and exploded into a shower of liquid flames. The windscreen didn’t break, but the car swerved—perhaps the man had tried to avoid the flare and been too slow, or maybe he’d simply panicked.
02:25 The four-wheel drive smashed through the railing and flew off the bridge. It plummeted down, the flare trailing a mist of sparks and smoke, until it hit the water. The bonnet crumpled as the
car began to sink.
The bus trundled along a few more metres and then finally stopped.
The other students were saying something to Charith, but he wasn’t listening. He scrambled through the emergency exit and hopped down onto the road.
Staggering as though he’d just reached land after months at sea, he stumbled over to the edge of the bridge and peered over the broken railing.
00:00 The black car was filling up with water and sinking deeper and deeper. But before it disappeared into the darkness, Charith saw that the driver’s seat was empty.
SINKING
40:00 Nancy stood on the heaving deck of the ship, her knuckles white around the railing. Waves smashed against the hull, sending shockwaves up her arms and coating her face with salty mist. She had hoped that leaving her cabin would make her feel less seasick. But up on deck, the ocean seemed even rougher.
She tried not to look down. Beneath the choppy waves, the dark water would be kilometres deep. She felt like she was standing atop a swaying skyscraper.
The sunset stained the clouds an angry pink. She hoped the weather would clear up before the ship arrived. The whole point of this trip was to go scuba diving with her parents—they were waiting for her at the Bull Islands—but if it stayed like this, the water would be too choppy to see. She would have to spend her time walking along the rock pools with Sid, her terrier cross.
39:15 Poor Sid. He was even sicker than she was, but dogs weren’t allowed up on deck. Maybe he would have preferred the plane after all.
39:00 ‘You all right, young lady?’
She turned to see a man hovering at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in the blue polo shirt and white shorts of all the cruise-ship staff, apparently oblivious to the freezing wind. His dark eyes showed genuine concern.
‘I’m fine,’ she said.
‘All the other passengers are in their cabins or in the restaurant. You might want to join them.’
‘I’m a little seasick,’ Nancy admitted.
38:20 ‘Ah.’ The man dug through his pockets and handed over a blister pack of pills. ‘Ginger tablets. They really helped me when I first started working on this boat.’
‘Thanks.’ She had heard ginger tablets didn’t work, but she didn’t want to be rude. She pocketed the packet.
‘Your inner ear says you’re rocking from side to side, but your eyes say you’re not,’ the man said. ‘Your body gets confused, so it puts the digestive system on pause. That’s what seasickness is—but if you watch the horizon for awhile, your eyes and ears sync up again.’
37:15 Nancy tried to take his advice, but she couldn’t see the horizon through the mist. ‘How long have you been doing this?’
‘I joined this crew two years ago, but the cruise ship doesn’t run in winter. This is my first voyage of the season—it’s good to be back on the water.’ The man took a deep, happy breath, apparently oblivious to the ghastly weather. ‘I’m Malcolm, by the way.’
‘Nancy. How long until we reach land?’
‘Twelve hours, give or take.’
‘Twelve hours?! But it looks so close!’
36:40 ‘It won’t be visible until …’ Malcolm trailed off, staring at the landmass materialising before them. ‘Huh. That does look like land.’
The island was narrow but tall, with a mountain just barely visible through the mist. A ring of short trees concealed the base of what looked like a sports stadium with a domed roof. Nancy thought she could see people jogging along a stony beach towards a jetty.
‘We must be off course,’ Malcolm said. A plastic compass dangled from a cord around his neck. He peered at the needle.
‘Are we?’ Nancy asked, alarmed.
Malcolm pulled out his phone and checked the GPS. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We’re exactly where we should be. I just must have missed that island on the map.’
‘You didn’t see it last season?’
‘No. But it’s not like an island can just appear.’
35:10 Nancy squinted at the island, and had the inexplicable feeling that it was staring back at her. She shook her head. It was the seasickness making her uneasy, nothing more.
The people on the small jetty wore grey uniforms, and were carrying bags of equipment. They moved quickly, urgently.
34:35 ‘At the risk of looking dumb,’ Malcolm said, ‘I’m going to call the captain. Excuse me.’
‘Sure.’ Nancy watched as the island drew closer. On its current course, the ship would pass with perhaps a hundred metres to spare. Three of the people on shore clambered down into a speedboat and untied it.
33:20 Malcolm was talking on his radio. ‘Yes, ma’am, I understand that. But if it’s not on the map, where did it come from?’
The speedboat’s engine roared. It left the jetty, cutting a white foamy line through the ocean. Nancy couldn’t help but step back, away from the rail. It was heading towards the cruise ship, fast.
‘Have they tried to contact us, Captain?’ Malcolm was saying. He sounded increasingly alarmed.
32:00 As the speedboat zoomed through the turbulent seas in their direction, Nancy saw one of the people inside—a stocky man with thick sideburns—stand up. He was holding what looked like a length of pipe on his shoulder.
It continued to look like a pipe right up until the rocket shot out of it.
Nancy screamed.
31:40 The rocket left a trail of smoke in the air as it zoomed towards the hull of the cruise ship. Malcolm turned towards the sound of Nancy’s cry, but Nancy herself was already diving away from the railing. She hit the floor, her arms covering her face.
There was a pause. Just long enough for her to wonder if she had been wrong. Maybe the rocket was actually something else. Maybe—
31:05 Boom!
The cruise ship lurched sideways. Nancy shrieked as she slid across the deck towards the stairs. She grabbed a post under the rail and hung on. The whole world was tipping under her. It felt like if she let go she would fall off the earth and tumble into space.
The explosion from the missile made the ship rock, and now it was tilting back the other way. Nancy’s legs slid across the deck. She could hear someone yelling something, but she couldn’t understand the words. It was like she was so scared she had forgotten how language worked.
30:00 The motor of the speedboat got her up. She heard the rumbling and scrambled to her feet. Were they about to attack again?
The air was thick with smoke. Her nostrils burned and her lungs itched. Malcolm was face down on the deck, the radio a few metres away from his hand.
Nancy peered over the rail. The rocket had left a massive hole in the hull. The metal around the edges was twisted and blackened. Jagged cracks had spread out across the rest of the ship. Water was surging around the bottom of the hole. Some was pouring in.
28:50 The ship was going to sink.
The speedboat pulled up alongside the breach. The uniformed men leaped across the gap and clambered into the cruise ship.
Nancy ran over to Malcolm. ‘Hey! Are you OK?’
Malcolm didn’t move.
Nancy rolled him over. Malcolm’s eyelids fluttered. A pink bruise was forming next to one of his eyebrows.
‘Malcolm!’ Nancy shook his shoulders.
27:10 ‘Ugh.’ Malcolm opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘What … ?’
‘I don’t know.’ She had never been good at talking under pressure. ‘Someone shot at the ship. Then they climbed into it—’
A siren cut through the air that sounded like the fire alarm at school.
‘Emergency,’ a voice boomed. ‘Please assemble on the upper deck. Emergency. Please assemble …’
26:45 ‘We’re sinking,’ Nancy cried.
Malcolm sat up shakily. He reached for the radio on his belt and discovered it wasn’t there.
‘Head for the stern,’ he said, pointing. ‘That way. The crew will put you in one of the lifeboats.’
‘Where are you going?’
26:10 Malcolm
stood, bracing himself against the nearby stair rail. ‘I have to head downstairs and make sure all the rooms are clear of passengers. I’ll be fine.’
He didn’t look well. He was pale, and seemed unsteady on his feet. Nancy didn’t want to leave him, but at the safety briefing, she’d been told to follow all crew instructions in the event of an emergency.
‘What about the people who boarded us?’ Nancy asked. ‘They’re on the lower decks.’
‘Let me worry about them,’ Malcolm said. ‘Go!’ Nancy nodded and ran up the deck towards the stern. She had seen Titanic. What if there weren’t enough lifeboats for everybody?
25:20 When she rounded the corner she saw that the lifeboats were huge, with their own motors and roofs. Each looked big enough for twenty or thirty passengers. She counted fifteen lifeboats on this side alone. The captain must have seen Titanic, too.
But those men in the speedboat had attacked the cruise liner deliberately. What would they do when the crane started lowering escape vessels into the ocean?
24:30 Passengers were starting to appear on deck. Some were in their pyjamas, even though it was barely sunset. Others had shirts and dresses stained with food—they must have been eating when the rocket hit.
A woman in a uniform like Malcolm’s was unhooking the first lifeboat from the wall. Another was directing everyone over to one side so they weren’t in the way when it swung free. Everyone looked as scared as Nancy felt. One woman was holding a quivering rabbit in a carry cage.
23:20 Nancy felt the blood drain out of her face.
Sid. He was still in her room. He must be terrified.
Nancy pushed through the crowd towards the woman who was directing the passengers, karate chopping the air and pointing. Nancy had to yell to be heard over the siren.
‘My dog is in my cabin!’ she cried.
The flustered woman didn’t listen to Nancy. ‘I need you to join the queue over there,’ she said.
‘I have to go back down to my room to get my dog.’
‘The staff are checking the rooms. You need to stay up here.’
22:35 ‘But he’ll be hiding,’ Nancy said. ‘The noise will have scared him.’