‘I remember,’ Eva said. ‘I guess they didn’t want the public to know they suspected Gracefield had some hand in it, especially after he had successfully created the A20.’
‘Yeah, I guess, but did his actions really cause the drowning?’ The young woman stared down at the report. Eva had doubted it too. Could just a couple of people have had such a profound effect on an entire planet?
‘Are there any hints of what effects Gracefield and Wood’s project might have had?’ Annette asked.
‘Not that I’ve yet found. Victoria let me look at all the files and through her notebook. I’m not sure she would hide anything after giving us so much access already. When I asked her, she said that’s why we’re leaving: the answers are elsewhere.’
‘I’m not sure I fully understand,’ Annette said. ‘Where are we going, exactly?’
‘To Gracefield’s new world, apparently . . . An entirely new landmass.’
Annette’s jaw dropped. ‘A new landmass? How . . . ?’
‘The same way mountains are made.’
Jim felt the burn go all the way down his throat and into his belly, and exhaled with pleasure.
‘To Tom!’ he said, holding up the bottle above Tom’s body, now wrapped in sheets so that it resembled a mummy – or at least a kid’s interpretation of one.
It had been a heavy burden to bring back, but with Tim’s and Marvin’s help, they’d managed it in good time. The two sat opposite Jim in a tiny burrow of a room this group used to store and stash supplies. It was empty now because the varied supplies were bundled onto wheeled carts, ready for their eviction. Eva and Annette were just through the doorway, chatting quietly. Jim knew everything that Eva knew now; she had told him when he had returned with Tom. Nothing surprised him anymore, and the truth was that he no longer cared.
Islands, conspiracies, and secret projects – what did it matter now? All he cared about was saying goodbye to Tom and getting back to his son on the sub. And then . . . And then he’d go home: back to the flotilla where he belonged.
Both Marvin and Tim touched their bottles of whisky to Jim’s and repeated, ‘To Tom!’
All three took long, deep slugs. Jim didn’t tell them he was a recovering alcoholic, for the same reason he wasn’t bothered about the A20, the president and his cronies, or anything else: it simply didn’t matter anymore. There had been too much death in the search for the truth, and ultimately, as it had always been, it came down to the stupidity of humankind.
Marcus sat on a wooden crate that had once held containers of freeze-dried food. He didn’t drink. He stared at Tom’s body, emotionless.
‘Aren’t you going to say something?’ Jim said, catching Marcus’s attention. The gangster looked up at Jim, his face passive.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Should I?’
‘You always have to be so different, don’t you?’ Jim stood and swigged again from his bottle, the liquid slipping over his lips and dripping onto this shirt. He dabbed it and swayed. Tim and Marvin shot up and grabbed him by the shoulders, steadying him back to the bench.
‘I’m fine,’ he slurred, brushing them off. He didn’t need their help. They’d only made things worse anyway. If they hadn’t squabbled with the others, the ones with the infection, then Tom wouldn’t have been shot. It had been so unnecessary.
‘It doesn’t change,’ Jim announced. ‘Even when we’re down to so few people, it never changes.’
‘What doesn’t?’ Tim asked.
‘Don’t encourage him,’ Marcus added. ‘The guy’s a drunk. Doesn’t know what he’s on about half the time.’
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Jim said, not liking the way the ‘admiral’ and his skinny, hunched friend were regarding him. ‘Here, take the fucking thing.’ He twisted the cap onto the bottle and threw it at Marvin.
The older man caught it with one hand, displaying the reflexes of someone much younger.
‘I was a shortstop when I was younger,’ the admiral said with a smile.
‘A what?’ Jim replied.
‘It’s a position in baseball.’
‘I’m more of a cricket man,’ Jim said. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. ‘This is all bullshit, you know that?’
Tim scratched at his head. ‘What do you mean?’
‘This!’ Jim widened his arms to take in the room. ‘The base, the lies, the secrets, the deaths. Why the fuck are we doing all this? We came here for answers, and all we’ve found is more conspiracy, more political bullshit.’
The admiral placed the bottle of Scotch in a cart behind him and then turned his attention back to Jim. ‘I don’t know what else to tell you. Eva knows as much as we do at this point. It’s up to you whether you want to follow it through to the end or go home. Either way, I expect nothing else from you other than helping us to leave this place. You do see that we need to leave, don’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Jim said. ‘You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to stop you. I just want to get back to my boy, and if that means helping you lot along the way, that’s fine with me, but don’t expect me to sacrifice anything, or anyone, else. We’ve already lost too much. If we’re faced with the A20 on our way out and you get hurt, I won’t stop and help you. I’m leaving, regardless of what happens.’
‘I’m with you guys,’ Marcus said, spiting Jim as usual. ‘I want to get out alive, and if that means trusting you lot, then so be it. You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.’
Jim grunted and shook his head. Marcus: the opportunist as ever. Couldn’t care less about anyone but himself.
‘At least we understand each other,’ Marvin said. He stood and straightened his blue sweater. ‘We’ve got work to do. We—’
Gloria ducked into the room, her eyes wide. ‘They’re here,’ she said breathlessly. ‘The A20 are in the tunnels. We have to go. Right now.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Eva and the others hurried through the tunnels. Ahead of her were their new allies, clutching rifles, while behind them, Annette, Marcus, and a reluctant Jim hauled wheeled carts of supplies. They reminded Eva of the wagon trains from the old westerns she used to watch with her dad as a young girl.
Marvin had shot one of the infected A20 members when they first left the safe house. They’d reached the end of the tunnel and had made their way out into the kitchen area of the cafeteria, when they had been cornered and fired upon by a couple of the A20 members.
The old admiral hadn’t missed a beat; he’d waited for a pause in firing, ducked around the counter, and put three rounds into a woman’s head. Gloria had taken the woman’s rifle, adding it to the group’s considerable arsenal. Now, in one of the carts, they even had a pound of C4 and half a dozen grenades.
Eva really hoped they wouldn’t need them.
They continued on through the facility, following Gloria as though she were a human GPS leading them to safety. Through corridors and passageways, rooms and halls they went, meeting weak resistance every now and then. From Jim’s expression, his taut face, Eva could tell that the strain of the eviction was getting to him. Hell, it was getting to her too. The experience was like some terrible video game from which there was no escape; from any hallway or dark corner, something could jump out at them, test their reactions, and run down their ammo.
‘How many of those fuckers are left?’ Marcus asked. He pulled up beside her, panting from hauling the cart, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
‘About twenty-five or so,’ Tim said, answering for Eva.
Up ahead, Gloria stood beside a door, peering through the window. She held up her hand for quiet and crouched.
Marvin, Tim, and Victoria stood opposite her, their weapons ready.
‘What’s going on?’ Jim whispered.
‘Hostiles on the other side,’ Victoria whispered back, holding two fingers up. Marvin gestured for Eva and the others to get down. They’d used this method before: using the carts as cover.
<
br /> Marcus tensed, readying to move up to Marvin’s group. Eva grabbed his sweater and pulled him down behind the cart.
He shot her a look. ‘What?’
‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ she said.
‘As if I would.’
Eva saw he already had done something stupid: somewhere along the journey, he had taken one of the grenades from Jim’s cart. He held it like a water balloon. He massaged it around his palm, his thumb caressing the smooth surface. Thankfully, the pin was still engaged.
‘Seriously,’ Eva said, close to his ear. ‘Don’t be an idiot with that. Let the others handle this. A grenade going off in here . . . Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t be a good idea.’
‘She’s right,’ Jim said, his words still slurring. He crouched down behind them, kneeling at their backs, his hands on their shoulders. ‘Now is not the time for you to play hero. You’ll just fuck it up.’
Marvin hushed them and turned his attention back to the door. Jim and Marcus quit their bickering for a few moments while they waited to make their next move. A minute or so passed. Eva got bored waiting and stood up to stretch the cramp in her leg. ‘What’s going on out there?’ she asked.
Victoria, crouched below the window, moved away from the door towards Eva. ‘There’s a patrol out there,’ she said. ‘Two A20s with rifles. Those cabins you were taken into when you first arrived – they’re just up ahead. One of the A20s is in there somewhere. We saw another one pass by but it looks like he’s gone down the corridor towards the boardroom complex.’
‘How far is it to the airlock?’ Eva asked.
‘About three hundred metres,’ Victoria replied.
With the weight of the supply carts, one of them carrying Tom’s body, that seemed like a terribly long distance. She was certain they’d be gunned down before they reached the airlock. But she also knew there was no other way out. ‘The longer we wait,’ she said, ‘the more time we’re giving them to fortify the area.’
‘What are you saying?’ Victoria asked.
‘She’s saying we run for it,’ Marcus said. ‘We’re armed, and we’re desperate to leave. Marvin don’t seem like he’s bothered about killing these jerks, so let’s just get on with it and stop hiding out here in this damned corridor.’
‘Hold on a minute,’ Victoria said, then turned and crouch-walked back to Marvin and the others. They huddled around and spoke in hushed tones. Then Victoria returned to Marcus.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘We’re going through. Marvin and Gloria will go first; you take the flanks. Tim and I will hang back and provide you guys with covering fire if we’re seen. Head for cover the moment you can.’
‘Really?’ Marcus said. ‘I was thinking of strolling out there with a target on me. Of course we’ll take cover; we’re not stupid. Besides . . .’ He looked to the grenade in his palm. ‘I have an insurance policy. Try not to get in the way if things go tits up.’
‘Classy as ever, Marcus,’ Jim said.
They had made it halfway to the airlock when Eva sensed what was about to happen. Perhaps it was the shifting of light, or how the door flaps of the farm tent blew outwards. ‘Get down,’ she yelled.
A bulky figure in torn jeans and a ripped blouse staggered out of the farm tent, an M16 held clumsily at chest height. It was an older woman with milky eyes. She hollered and opened fire.
The initial burst went over their heads. They all darted behind the metal carts. The next burst was more accurate: two of the bullets slammed into the side of Annette’s cart, making her scream. Tim lost his cool, rushed forward from his rear covering position, and fired towards the woman. He missed. She didn’t. A bullet struck Tim in the neck. He dropped his weapon to the floor. His eyes widened. Then, as if in slow motion, he reached up to his neck and pulled away his hand, dripping with blood. He stared at it with seeming disbelief. He collapsed to his knees. Another round struck him in the chest.
Eva spun to face the woman. She was wrestling with the rifle’s controls; maybe a jam, or perhaps she was out of ammo, Eva wasn’t sure. Gloria was, though – she let out a scream like a wounded animal and charged the woman.
Eva looked away. The sounds were bad enough. She heard Marvin calm Gloria down, telling her that it was over, that the other woman was dead.
‘And so is Tim,’ Gloria yelled. ‘He’s gone! Don’t you see? He’s gone!’
All this happened as though Eva were a spectator watching the action on a big cinema screen with amazingly realistic surround sound. She didn’t feel she was actually here, in the moment. She felt nothing – didn’t want to feel anything beyond the numbness. She stood and peered through the shredded fabric of the farm tent. The airlock beyond it waited for them.
She couldn’t worry about Tim – how could she? She’d only known him for a few hours. She was still reeling from Tom’s loss; she couldn’t process another right now. All that mattered in this moment was getting out alive. She turned and refocused on what was going on, willing herself into action.
‘Follow me.’ Eva heaved the handle of the cart and trudged forward, wheeling around the prone body of the older woman. There was blood, exposed bone. That was all she would permit herself to note and commit to memory. If it were possible, when she got out, she’d try to erase this whole situation from her mind.
Keep going, she told herself. Just focus, keep moving forward.
One of the wheels on the cart made a squeaking noise as she gained momentum until she was running towards the open door to the airlock. In the reflection of the glass she saw the others close behind her. They were shouting something, but she paid no attention to the words; it wasn’t important now. Whatever had happened couldn’t un-happen.
She reached the door and dragged the cart through into the first chamber. She turned to hold the door open for the others, and one by one they came in. Marvin was the last. He slammed the outer door and pressed a five-digit code on the number panel to the left of the door.
A light flashed. The locked thudded. ‘We’re safe,’ Marvin said. His chest was heaving in and out and sweat made his face glossy. Everyone else stood silent for a moment, some probably not believing they’d made it. Annette wiped tears from her face.
Victoria hung her head low, inspecting the ground. ‘I can’t believe we lost Tim.’
‘I can’t believe we lost Tom,’ Jim said.
‘It’s not a goddamned competition,’ the Dutchwoman spat.
‘I didn’t say it was,’ Jim snapped back. ‘All I’m saying is that we’ve all lost here. We’ve dragged Tom’s body through this shithole. None of this is an ideal situation, is it?’
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Eva said, reaching out to Victoria to squeeze her arm. ‘He seemed like a good man.’
‘He was,’ she said, her lips poised to continue, but then she took a breath and stayed silent. Eva suspected that the two might have had a relationship beyond simply being fellow survivors. Eva knew that pain all too well. Still, they couldn’t wait around.
‘Ready to move on?’ Eva prompted. ‘We’ll have time to rest and grieve on the sub. Let’s get going before—’ Eva spun to her right, noticing movement outside the tunnel. Approaching from the shadows of the large cavernous space was another one of the suited figures, gun raised.
‘Shit, an infected,’ Marcus said, stepping back away from the glass.
The figure fired and bullets ricocheted off the tunnel.
‘This is bulletproof, right?’ Marcus asked.
‘No idea,’ Marvin said. ‘Let’s not stand here and find out.’ The admiral rushed forward, weaving his bulky form around the carts. He reached the control panel and activated the pressure change.
‘How long will it take?’ Annette asked.
‘A minute,’ the admiral said.
Two more bullets struck against the glass structure, making it ring like a bell. This time, the rounds didn’t bounce off: they made deep chip marks that then spider-webbed out into dark tendrils. The cracks continued to spread
all around them as the figure stalked closer, firing in a cold, controlled manner.
Another bullet, another crack.
Marvin frantically tried to open the door, but the system wasn’t ready yet. The other chamber was pressurising. Swirls of dust in the air twisted about beyond the partition. Although the partition was only a few inches thick, the distance to the other side seemed too far.
The bullets continued to smash against the glass, making Eva jump each time.
Just when she thought the glass couldn’t hold, the system bleeped and the door to the next chamber opened. They fled inside: Marvin’s group first, then Eva’s, dragging the carts through. They rushed to the elevator. Gloria reached out and slapped at the button. The steel-fronted door slid open, revealing the empty elevator car.
‘We’re not all going to fit,’ Jim said. ‘Not with four carts.’
The A20 member had disappeared from view. Probably out of ammo. She didn’t like it. They wouldn’t give up that easily surely . . . Regardless, they were so close now. ‘Marvin, you take two carts and your group up first. Let us have a couple of rifles and we’ll follow up next.’
‘Fine. I’ll send it straight back down as soon as we get to the top. Remember the two-way radios.’
‘Too dangerous,’ Jim said. ‘Just go! The quicker you lot are up there, the quicker we can follow.’
The admiral handed Jim his rifle, leaving his group with two wielded by Gloria and Victoria. Eva and Annette pushed two carts inside the elevator; Marvin and the two women slipped in around them. ‘See you on the other side,’ Marvin said, punching the button.
The door slid closed. Motors whirred. A heavy silence descended in the airlock. Outside, somewhere in the gloom, were more deranged, desperate A20 members.
‘Well, this is cosy,’ Marcus said. ‘Two boys, two girls – it reminds me of my first time.’
‘Thanks for that image,’ Eva said. ‘Just what I wanted right now. How about you shut up and keep an eye out?’
Soil (The Last Flotilla Book 2) Page 18