Faust lost all control of herself, flying into a rage, grabbing the bars and screaming at Frank in her weird garbled language. Duncan and Jim stood back, watching her launch an unintelligible tirade at Frank as if she were possessed.
Her body bucked, and her hair flew all about her.
Frank just looked at Jim as if to say, ‘See, the woman’s nuts and totally guilty.’
When she finally stopped screaming in tongues, she said, “You’ll burn in hell, Frank, you cunt. You’ll burn in hell!”
“Language, Susan. And why will dear Frank here burn in hell?” Jim asked.
She turned her head to look at him, every muscle contorted in hate. “God despises you. All of you. He spoke to me.” She spat on the ground by Jim’s feet.
“Really? What did he say?” Jim prompted.
“You’ll all burn. Especially you.” She pointed at Jim through the bars. “Your lies will be exposed, and everyone will know the truth of what you’ve done. You’re gonna burn for all eternity.”
“Shut your mouth. How dare you? You risk the lives of all in this community, for your own twisted view of the world. It’s you who will burn, Faust. I’ll see to it myself if I have to.”
“Dad, relax.” Duncan gripped Jim’s shoulders, but the rage within him burned, and he threw his son off. Turning to Frank, who was now laughing, Jim reached through the bars, gripped him by the throat, and pulled him close so his face squashed against the bars.
“You think this is funny, eh? A poor kid was orphaned last night. You know anything about that? One of your scumbag family thought they’d get Jean out of the way to claim her husband’s property? Who was it, Frank? Tell me, damn you.”
Duncan gripped Jim’s forearms and pulled him away. “That’s enough, Dad. For God’s sake, what’s got into you?”
Faust was grinning through the bars now.
“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, Captain Jim? It’s nothing compared to the hell that awaits you.”
Frank eventually spoke up. “Honest, Jim, I know nothing about Jean. What happened?”
Jim could tell he was being sincere. Having one’s windpipe nearly crushed could do that to a man.
“Fuck you both, you can rot for all I care.”
Jim shrugged out of Duncan’s grip and stormed down the corridor.
Duncan tried to follow, but Jim spun around. “Son, I want you to find and help Eva. Find this killer and the man who put Frank up to this. For the sake of Jean and Mike, find him, and when you do, send him over to the damned sharks.”
“Dad, what’s wrong? Faust is just a nutter; don’t let her get to you. She’s just nicking stuff for her poxy congregation. We’ll get the hydro and wind turbines up and running in no time.”
Jim’s heart was still racing, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Please just do as I ask you for once.” He turned his back on his son and headed for his own cabin. “And make sure that kid gets a meal.”
***
Jim locked the thick metal door behind him and then sat down on his bunk, dropping his head into his hands. His head pulsed with an oncoming migraine. His chest hurt. For the briefest moment he questioned his role. Was he doing the right thing? Faust’s words had hurt. He wondered if she truly knew or was just talking her usual hatred. If she did know, he’d have to do something about it. She was already a cancer in the community; he couldn’t let her poison people’s hope with her narrow-minded pseudo-religious nonsense. But could he really do it? If it came to it…
He guessed he could. If it came to it.
He double-checked that his door was locked, and pressed his ear against it to make sure no one was passing by outside before lifting up his bunk. He used a stick to hold it in place, and with his fishing knife, he prised out a series of rivets holding a plate to the wall.
Reaching in, he pulled out a metal container the size of a shoebox.
Using a key attached to a wire around his neck, hidden beneath his shirt, he turned it in the lock and entered a code on the five-digit tumbler.
The lid popped open, revealing a silver hip flask and a handheld radio with a tape printer attached to the side. The last item was a small leather-bound notebook.
Being careful not to make any noise, he brought the bunk back down and placed the box on the mattress. He took two swigs of uncut rum, breathing it in, allowing the alcohol to work its way down into his stomach. He grimaced slightly at the pure burn and swigged another two shots before the feeling dissipated.
He checked his watch. It was time.
Stopping for another moment to ensure no one was outside, he switched on the modified radio, took the spool of wire from the back, and reached it up to a pipe running along the cabin.
From a casual look it appeared the same as any pipe, but when twisted, it revealed an antenna wire inside. He attached the two wires and confirmed the signal. It was weak, but it would be enough for a small data burst.
Taking the notebook, he flipped to the last updated page, marked by a ribbon. He entered a message, using the encryption model in the notebook to obscure the text. The message when unencrypted at the other end would read:
Jim-11877687-Last Message R/d. Confirm receipt of resource. End.
The modified radio scrambled the message into information packets and, using just battery power, sent a one-second data burst. A further three seconds later a black square flashed twice on the pale green screen to indicate it reached its destination.
Jim breathed out, took another snap of rum, and waited.
***
It only took two minutes for the reply. The black square flashed twice. The paper edged out of the printer digit by digit. He used the code in the notebook to transpose the encrypted message. It read:
Clare-11877688-Last Message R/d. Can confirm resource. Mike is with us. Project Update: breakthrough. Need another volunteer. Three days. This could be it. End.
His heart seemed to miss a beat at the word breakthrough. Could it really be? Then the dread set in: another volunteer. His list was empty. Mike was the last. He couldn’t get another one in just three days. It was too soon after Mike and now the power issues. He thought about sending Frank or Susan, but he couldn’t do it as a public spectacle.
How the hell could he get someone out without anyone else seeing them?
Somehow he’d have to figure it out, though.
A breakthrough!
Chapter 7
Eva’s daughter, Emily, is running across the family’s farm. She has a smear of dirt on her face, just above her dimple. Her plaited hair swings behind her, her laugh lilting on the air. She reaches her arms out.
Eva’s standing there, her arms wide ready to receive her daughter, but no matter how long she waits, she can’t reach her. Emily’s face twists. Tears spill from her eyes. The crying sounds like it’s coming from some place far off, somewhere familiar. Beneath the crying is the sound of water… no, rain. The sound of rain.
The crying doesn’t sound like her daughter any more. The image of the farm dissipates, replaced by the familiar sight of the beige wood-panelled cabin walls.
Eva snapped her eyes open. She felt hungover, her soul still entrenched in the dream world while her corporeal body woke into reality. The two existences clashing, obfuscating what was real.
The sound of a child sobbing was still there amongst the confusion.
Emily was a ghost now, but the sound was so real.
Blinking, Eva sat up from her bed, rubbing the spectres from her eyes. In bare feet and wearing a long shirt, she made her way through into the kitchen area of her cabin. There, huddling into the corner, hugging his knees, Danny sobbed.
“Danny? I thought you were on the Bravo. Are you okay? Where’s Duncan?”
She knelt down and reached out for the boy, pulling hi
s arms away from his face. “Hey, it’s just me,” she said, trying to get him to look up. “I was going to come see you later. Looks like you beat me to it, eh?”
Her attempts at reaching him felt awkward. Had she always been this terrible at communicating with children? She thought back to Emily. No, she thought. She wasn’t always this awkward, but unlike Danny, Emily didn’t have both of her parents leave her within twenty-four hours. No, she just had one… me.
Eventually, Danny looked up. His blue eyes, so like his father’s, were rimmed with red.
“Danny, do Duncan and Jim know you’re here?”
He shook his head.
“They were arguing,” he said as if that explained everything. “So I came here. I miss…” The tears grew glossy in his eyes as he choked on the words.
With a hug, she brought him close to her, feeling the poor kid shake in her embrace. “I know, Dan, I know.” Despite his very real grief, all she could do was imagine Emily in his place, feeling the same way when Eva had left her behind, before the drowning.
“You won’t have to stay on the Bravo,” Eva said. “It was just temporary while we work a few things out. I was going to come and get you later today, remember? You know I’m here for you, don’t you?”
“I know. I… I don’t like it there. Can I stay here with you?”
“Soon, Dan. Right now things aren’t safe here. I’ve got a job to do, but I promise it’ll only be temporary. The Bravo is the best place right now. Besides, they have the best food there. Did you have breakfast?”
“No, I sneaked out while Duncan was going to get me something. Will he be mad at me?”
“I doubt it. He’ll probably eat the breakfast himself anyway. A guy that large has a big appetite. But we should let them know you’re okay in case they get worried. The storm’s getting up, and we don’t want them thinking you’ve…” She was about to joke about going over the side, but let her words drift off as she thought about Jean.
“Why did Dad have to go?” Danny asked, wiping his eyes, gaining composure.
“We all have to go at some point,” Eva said before she could stop herself. “I mean, we all have to do something for each other. Together we’re stronger, and your dad, he’s one of the strongest. He’s gone out to find help. Eventually we won’t have to live here on the boats.”
“We can go home?” Dan said, his eyes wide with hope and optimism.
What could she say to that? Tell the truth, crush him, or lie and give him false hope? She took the easy way out. “Maybe one day.”
“Will he come back soon? I miss him.”
“We hope so, Dan. I hope so.”
Eva stood and pulled Dan to his feet.
“Let’s get you a change of clothes,” Eva said, “and some of your comics. We’ll both go back and deal with Duncan, let him know you’re safe. I’ll stay with you at the Bravo tonight, how’s that?”
He smiled and just nodded.
As she led him out of her kitchen and turned to Mike and Jean’s—soon to be Marcus’s—cabin, she heard movement inside.
“You just stay here. Don’t move, okay?” Eva left Danny in the doorway of her cabin. She stalked into the corridor and approached the door, trying to ascertain how many there were in Jean’s cabin. She could see movement through the crack of the door and counted at least two distinct people. Their voices were low, indecipherable. She wished she’d brought a weapon.
She leaned forward, trying to get a better angle. A hand grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her into the room with a hard yank.
***
Standing in front of her was the grim aspect of Marcus Graves, his hands in the pockets of his long, black coat. His dark hair stuck to his face, wet with the rain of the storm. A puddle dripped around his booted feet.
Behind him, Ade was bent over the storage section of the bed.
The mattress had been pushed up, and he was rooting around inside, throwing Mike’s and Jean’s possessions out onto the floor.
Danny screamed out behind her.
She turned her head.
Shaley had Danny by the shoulders. She realised then it was Tyson who’d pulled her into the room. He stood over her, his legs as wide as his sick grin.
“What is this, Graves?” Eva said, getting to her knees.
Tyson’s hands on her shoulders stopped her from getting to her feet, forcing her to look up to Graves’ smug face.
“Where’s the memory stick, love?” Graves said, his voice upbeat despite the veiled sense of violence beneath his voice.
“What memory stick?”
“Oh, come, come, Eva, don’t play coy with me now. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Not a good thing for a kid to witness all this unpleasantness.”
She tried to stand, but Tyson pushed his considerable weight down onto her shoulders, gripping her with his meaty fingers, making her yell with pain.
She fell forward and splayed her legs, knocking Tyson off balance. Grabbing his wrists, she twisted hard, breaking his grip. Ducking her head and pulling his arms forward, she slipped back through his legs.
Before he could rebalance, she stood and kicked out, crunching her foot into his balls for the second time.
He made no noise beyond a gasp of breath as he grabbed the offending area and fell forward in a heap.
Marcus raised a hand. “Jesus, Eva, give the guy a break. He’ll never father kids again at this rate.”
“Good. Who’d want that animal to breed?”
Danny grabbed her from the side, having escaped Shaley’s grip. She turned in time to see a fist coming her way; she ducked and caught a harmless, glancing blow on her shoulder.
Marcus stepped forward and caught Shaley before he fell off balance. Ade was still throwing things out of the bed’s storage area. Marcus turned back to Eva.
Raising his voice, Marcus said, “Can everyone stop being a fucking muppet for one second. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m just trying to sort this mess out.”
“What mess? And what memory stick?” Eva said.
Moving close to her now, Marcus’s body language relaxed. Shaley and Tyson stood behind him, not looking particularly happy but respecting Graves’ control.
Staring directly into her eyes, Marcus said slowly and clearly, “Now, are you telling me, straight up, with no word of a lie, that you’ve not seen a memory stick belonging to Mike. He didn’t leave anything with you before his little voyage?”
“No. I’ve no damned clue what the hell all this is about.” Eva stared at him, refusing to back down beneath his assertiveness. She’d dealt with scumbags way worse than him; she’d be damned if she’d let him intimidate her, especially in front of Danny. He needed to know she could look out for him as promised.
“Well, then, we’re up shit creek without a fucking paddle,” Marcus said, turning his back on Eva. “Ade, you got anything?”
“Not yet, man, still looking.”
“So what’s so important about this memory stick, then?” Eva asked, ignoring Tyson’s face of rage. Maybe one day he’d learn not to mess with her.
“Need-to-know basis, love. All you need to know is that it’s important to me.”
“Important enough to kill for?” She felt awful saying that with Danny beside her, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what had happened to his mother.
“Now look here. I might be many things, but I’m not a callous son of a bitch. I wouldn’t do that to her. Besides, I spoke to her a few hours before that. She didn’t know anything about it either.”
“So where’s all this coming from, then? Why do you need this memory stick? It’s not like you can do much with computers out here, is it?”
They only had a couple of working computers: one in engineering and the other on the Bravo, n
either were much use beyond tracking supplies.
Marcus rubbed his chin and seemed to be trying to work out how much to tell her. “Mike and I… worked together on a project, you see. Did a bit of work for me here and there. Nothing dodgy like, just some engineering stuff. Well, one day he comes to me with something he found—mentioned a memory stick. The next minute I know he’s in a boat heading for Atlantis or wherever. I figured he left whatever he found with his lovely wife.”
Eva mulled it over. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but believe him.
It all added up: Mike had been working with Graves; she’d seen that herself. And then there was this sudden volunteering and disappearance as soon as the weather changed. In addition to all that, he just hadn’t seemed himself on the day he left.
“Say I believe you, and there is this memory stick floating about, would someone else be prepared to kill for it?”
“Fuck knows, maybe. All I know is that Mike was freaking out the last time I spoke with him. Didn’t want to work for me any more, said he’d learned too much. All cryptic stuff.” Graves turned to Danny, who stuck to Eva like a limpet, unable to comprehend everything that was going on around him. “Look, son, I’m real sorry about your mum and dad. It’s real rough, but we’ll figure something out. All this is connected, you see. You just be a brave soldier and stick with Eva, okay?”
Danny just nodded and hugged Eva tighter.
“Hey, man, I got something,” Ade said, unfolding his lanky frame from the bed. He brought out a five-inch-square wooden box. He moved between Shaley and Tyson and placed it on the small dining table. Inside were some old Polaroid photos and a key attached to a small floating ball.
SALT: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Page 5