by Perrin Briar
“Don’t come any closer!” the boy said. He was no older than thirteen, fourteen. “I’ll use the pill, I will!”
The boy held a small pill in his hand, his palm open. Tim very much doubted he would use it. If he was going to use it he would have done so already. But why take chances? Tim’s pet’s hand smacked the boy’s hand, knocking the pill up. The boy scrambled in an effort to snatch it from the air, but it went over the side of the mansion and fell to the ground below.
The boy spun to face Tim’s pet again.
“Stay back!” the boy said. “I’m warning you!”
The boy bent down to pick up a sword at a guard’s waist. He held it in clumsy hands.
Tim focused on his pet and summoned the use of his larynx. It was badly damaged, the vocal cord torn apart. But he tried to speak all the same. It came out as a rasp, wheezy and unintelligible. The pet was useless for communication.
Tim pushed his pet forward. The boy raised the sword, but it was too heavy for him. Tim’s pet bit the boy on the hand. The boy screamed, dropping the sword and pulled at the female undead attached to his hand. The blood met the pet’s lips and ran down his neck. Within a moment, Tim received images from the boy’s memory.
The king – the new king – had ordered his bravest guards to defend the mansion rooftop, to slow down the undead as much as they could. Meanwhile, the survivors would… The image became unclear. Tim ground his teeth and scrubbed the image for information. Then the image came back again, like a TV finding a new signal, and he saw the survivors entering the basement of the mansion in long lines. They were heading into…
Tim shook his head. Of course. The secret entrances. Just an hour ago Tim had bitten the captain of the guard, absorbing his memories for himself. The captain had been responsible for organising the king’s personal guard, including those stationed outside each secret entrance. Tim should have thought of it before.
Tim had to admire the human spirit. They would not give up, not while there was still hope. This boy on the roof was another example of that. He had formed a pact with his fellow guards to take the pill and kill himself. But the boy couldn’t do it. It was a bravery of sorts, to hide amongst the bodies of his fellow guards until the danger passed. But it was also weakness. That was the benefit of being a pet. They had no freewill and everyone was brave.
The boy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body shook as the virus took control of his faculties. He got to his feet, the newest member of Tim’s flock. His long blond hair swayed at the base of his neck, the tips dyed red.
Tim considered sending his pets into the secret tunnels after the survivors, but he decided against it. He turned his pets around and ordered them to join him at the seafront. He would need to repair Tessarakonteres and head back out to sea, toward the canal. That was where Jordan would have gone. Fixing Tessarakonteres would put him behind. But what alternative was there?
Just then, a loud whirring noise broke from around a blind corner of rock. Two speedboats zoomed out into the dock, kicking up tall whitewash curtains. Each of the boats was highly polished and well-tended, sharing matching paintjobs of orange and green. Tim could see the matching uniforms of the guards in the back of the boats. Beside them was another figure, this one with a golden crown perched on his head, his cape flapping out behind him like a superhero. King Haji.
Tim turned toward where the boats had emerged from the rock face. If there were two speedboats it was safe to assume there would be more.
Tim allowed himself a small smile. I’m coming, Jordan.
The Suez Canal, Egypt
31.
The sea was calm and did not offer much resistance to the rowboat, its hull cutting through it like a hot knife through butter. After a while, Jordan and Sam rowed in time, their movements smooth, like a pair of Olympic rowers. But the gentle rocking of the boat and the sloshing of the water as Anne bailed it over the side made Jordan’s eyes droop half-closed, threatening to lull him to sleep. He shook his head to dispel the cobwebs and yawned big and broad and wide.
“Jessie, love,” Jordan said. “Could you splash me with a little water, please?”
Jessie picked up a handful and smacked Jordan over the face. The slap echoed over the empty flatness of the water.
“That works too,” Jordan said, wiping the water from his face.
“Sorry,” Jessie said. “I thought you said smack, not splash.”
She turned to Sam.
“Would you like some too?” she said.
Sam shook his head.
“I’ll be all right,” he said, suddenly bright and alert.
They were far from Port Fouad, out in a giant basin of water. The stars were just beginning to fade with the approach of the sun. It was silent as a crypt.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Sam said.
“You’d never guess what was happening on the land, would you?” Anne said.
“I want to stay here forever,” Sam said.
“If we don’t find a bigger boat soon, that’s exactly what we’re going to end up doing,” Jordan said.
Jessie’s head perked up. She sat on the edge of her seat, head bent forward, squinting at the horizon.
“It can’t be…” she said.
“Can’t be what?” Jordan said.
“It is!” Jessie said. “It’s her! It’s Hope! I’d recognise that ugly old butt anywhere!”
Jordan looked over his shoulder, throwing his stroke off and sending them at an awkward angle. Sam corrected. Jordan peered at what Jessie was pointing at.
“It’s her!” Jessie said. “Look!”
There was a long queue for the canal, boats jutting out at different angles like a terrible car accident. But a smile came to Jordan’s lips as he peered at the ship at the back of the queue. It was indeed Hope Tomorrow. She looked a little worse for wear, but it was definitely her. She had been planted, headfirst, into the starboard side of a small fishing trawler.
“How did she end up out here?” Jessie said.
“Maybe she drifted free of her moor line?” Anne said.
“Or someone stole her,” Jordan said.
None of them said it, but they knew who the chief suspect would be.
The rowboat bumped into the stern of Hope Tomorrow. She was covered in dents and scratches, but otherwise appeared to be in good shape.
Jessie, at the front of the rowboat, stood up first, keeping her knees bent to counter the rowboat’s movement.
“The way’s blocked!” she said. “We’ll never get through all this!”
The others climbed aboard.
“You’re right,” Jordan said. “We’ll have to work her loose. Sam, hand me a paddle. We’ll use them as levers. If we’re lucky-”
The blood froze in Jordan’s veins.
Three figures stepped from the fishing trawler onto Hope Tomorrow. They stood in a puddle of dried blood on the deck. Their features were awkward, none of their shoulders horizontal, but peaked like mountain ranges, hunched and ugly. Lurchers were fiery creatures, driven by hunger. Attack now, think never. But here they just stood there, watching.
“What’s going on?” Sam said.
“It looks like they’re waiting for something,” Jessie said.
Sam frowned, confused, but he held his tongue.
“Careful,” Anne said.
“Get back,” Jordan said to the Lurchers.
It was a strange way to address the undead creatures, and yet they responded, stepping back. Jordan bent down to pick the gaff up off the catamaran’s deck.
“What do you want?” Jordan said.
The middle Lurcher, tall and black, stepped forward. His mouth fell open, a single word tumbling from its lips: “You.”
The word sent a shiver through Jordan.
“Why me?” he said.
The black Lurcher opened his mouth again, his jaw working around the words like a patient after facial surgery.
“Burrghhhh,” he managed, before his bott
om jaw fell off, hanging by one corner, his tongue flapping against his neck.
The female Middle Eastern Lurcher stepped forward.
“Burgh Casssstle,” she said with a lisp.
Her tongue was too short, having been bitten or cut off at some point.
“If you want me, come and get me,” Jordan said. “But leave Anne and Jessie out of this.”
“And me,” Sam said, raising his hand. “I don’t know what’s going on here. I’ve only just joined them.”
The female Lurcher’s eyes didn’t move from Jordan.
“All of you,” she said. “Together.”
“If you want us, you’ll just have to come and get us,” Jordan said. “But we won’t go without a fight!”
He brought the gaff around, slamming the hooked end into the side of the black Lurcher’s skull, smashing it in. Then he spun around and dealt the third Lurcher a crack around the skull. The Lurchers did not attack, and just stood watching him. This only enflamed Jordan further. He swung the staff around again and jabbed the butt into the female Lurcher’s eye socket, through to the back of her skull.
“Jordan,” the female Lurcher said, her jaw clacking unnaturally like she was in a badly dubbed Chinese movie. “Don’t run.”
Anne blinked at that.
Jordan spun her around, tossing her out to sea. She floated there a moment before finally sinking beneath the surface.
Jordan dropped the gaff, his hands shaking. He crossed the deck, shoes slipping on the puddle of blood.
“Jordan…” Anne said.
Jordan headed down the stairs. Anne followed him.
“Does anyone want to explain to me what is going on here?” Sam said.
“I’ll explain to you later,” Jessie said. “First, help me throw these Lurchers overboard and unhook us from the fishing trawler.”
32.
The cabin was dark and messy, all their carefully arranged tools for living tossed onto the floor. There was a large shadowed lump of something square piled up in the middle of the cabin with a blanket draped over it.
Jordan moved to the back of the room and removed the small dining table, and then set to work unbolting the seats.
“Jordan,” Anne said. “Do you want to explain to me what just happened?”
“No,” Jordan said. “Just… give me some time.”
“Time isn’t a luxury we have right now,” Anne said, folding her arms and entering obstinate mode. “Especially when it involves Jessie and me too.”
“I would tell you, but even I’m not sure if I believe what’s going on,” Jordan said.
“Then use me as a sounding board,” Anne said.
Jordan removed the first seat and put it aside. He sighed.
“It’s Tim,” he said. “I saw him on the dock of Port Fouad.”
“Tim?” Anne said, unfolding her arms. She hadn’t expected that. “I thought he was dead?”
“Not as dead as we’d thought, apparently,” Jordan said.
“That was who you were talking to?” Anne said. “What did he mean by ‘Burgh Castle’? And ‘all of you together’?”
“He holds us responsible for what happened to him at Burgh Castle, I suppose,” Jordan said.
“But why would he come after us?” Anne said.
“He lost his pets – all of them,” Jordan said. “Because of us. For him it’s like losing his whole family, and we murdered them. He wants revenge, and he’s not going to stop until he gets it. He’s going to take away from us what we took away from him. Our family. Each other.”
Jordan pulled on a stiff bolt at the base of a dining seat. He jiggled it side to side. It snapped. He tossed it aside.
“Jordan, it’s okay,” Anne said.
“No,” Jordan said, his tone sharp. “It’s not. It’s a lot of things, but it’s not okay.”
“Don’t forget we were always running to somewhere, not from something,” Anne said.
Jordan shook his head.
“How can you be so calm at a time like this?” he said. “Don’t you understand? He’s not going to stop. Not until he finds us and kills us. He controls an entire army. What do we have?”
“We have each other,” Anne said, putting her hand to Jordan’s cheek. “We’ll do what we’re best at. We’ll survive.”
She kissed him on the lips.
“I can’t lose you,” Jordan said. “Either of you.”
Jordan’s voice was pained, strained like he’d been under a great burden.
“As I’ve told you before, you won’t,” Anne said. “Tim’s just a boy.”
“No,” Jordan said. “He just looks like a boy. He wears that skin like a disguise. He’s a monster.”
Jordan lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt, exposing the soft underside of his triceps. Moonlight spilling through a porthole shone on the thin pink jagged scars there.
“Tim gave me this,” Jordan said.
Anne put her hand on the scars, covering them with her fingers.
“I’ve seen them,” she said. “I would gladly have received them instead of you, if I could.”
“I’ll never let that happen,” Jordan said, closing his hand over hers. “When the time comes, I’ll make sure you and Jessie won’t have to suffer like I did.”
Anne didn’t know what to say to that. As good intentioned as it was meant, it was still a threat.
“We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t come to that, won’t we?” Anne said. “Get to work on the engine. We need to get away from here.”
Metal squealed from the bulkhead and Hope Tomorrow tilted forward. An empty can of baked beans rolled across the floor and bumped into the large square block in the middle of the cabin. The boat drifted backwards.
“Looks like Jessie and Sam got Hope free,” Anne said. “We won’t need the engine. We’ll be on deck, preparing to sail. Join us when you’re ready.”
Anne headed toward the stairs, stopping to look back at Jordan once before climbing the steps.
“We got her loose,” Jessie said, still clutching the pole she had used.
“Is she very damaged on the front end?” Anne said.
“No,” Jessie said. “A little dented, but nothing too bad.”
Anne looked up at the wall of crushed boat hulls crammed together. A feeling of despair came over her.
“There’s no way through,” she said.
“Not a gap to be seen,” Jessie said. “What do you want to do?”
“We’re going to have to turn around and head back the way we came,” Anne said.
“After everything we’ve been through?” Jessie said.
“Why don’t you just pass through the Suez Canal?” Sam said.
“Duh,” Jessie said, pointing to the huge wreckage before them.
“That was our original plan,” Anne said. “But how can we, with the canal jammed like this?”
“Why not use the other one?” Sam said.
They turned to look at him.
“Other one?” Anne said. “What other one?”
Sam quailed slightly under their eyes.
“There’s a second Suez Canal,” he said. “They finished building it in 2015. I thought you knew.”
A spring of hope sprouted in Anne’s chest.
“Are you saying they built a second canal that cuts through to the Red Sea?” Anne said.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Sam said, a smile spreading across his lips. “Of course, I don’t know if that one’s blocked like this one too, but it won’t take long to go check it out. It’s not far.”
“You are a godsend,” Anne said. “I could kiss you.”
“I’d happily take a smacker from either of you lovely ladies,” Sam said, a big grin on his face.
Anne and Jessie chuckled. Sam shrugged.
“I make no apologies,” he said. “I’ve been in that prison for a long time.”
“It’d have to be a smacker of pity,” Jessie said.
“I’ll take whatever I can get,
” Sam said.
Jessie slapped him across the face.
“I’m sorry,” Jessie said. “I thought you said smack, not smacker.”
Sam put a hand to his cheek, a smile on his face.
“Let’s get the sail up,” Anne said. “We’ve got a Suez Canal to get through.”
33.
As the second canal came into view, Jordan could see it too had a wall of ships fused together by some catastrophic accident. But there were small gaps in it that could be negotiated with a skilled enough pilot.
Jordan made a complete pass of the waterway before turning back and approaching a narrow gap between a tugboat and a large transport ship still laden with a heavy load.
The wash of the Hope Tomorrow brushed against their hulls as she approached. The boats were silent, not a crewmember in sight.
“What happened here?” Anne said.
“I don’t know,” Jordan said. “Maybe one of the ships had a Lurcher on board. If the crew panicked and lost control of the boat and they smacked into each other, the Lurchers could have spread from boat to boat like a plague.”
“Nice choice of words,” Anne said. “What about survivors?”
“They would have jumped overboard and swam to shore,” Jordan said. “At least, that’s what I would have done.”
Jordan had been sombre and downhearted after the Tim discussion. Anne could see he still had the event going through his mind.
“Then shouldn’t there be lots of undead on the decks?” Anne said.
“Maybe there are,” Jordan said. “Keep a close look out.”
They had inches to spare on either side as Jordan edged them through the first gap slow and steady. There was little wind, but in full sail as they were, there was just enough to coax them through the naval graveyard.
Anne, Jessie and Sam each held a long pole and used them to push away from the hulls of the ships whenever they got too close.