by Knox, J. C.
‘Sarah’s alive,’ George said.
‘What? How do you know?’
‘Magnus spoke to her,’ Seamus said, ‘We were just on a radio call with him,’ he continues.
‘Seriously, why did he say she was dead? I mean you don’t tell someone that their wife is dead unless you are absolutely certain, do you?’ Connor asks, confusion etched across his face.
‘I reckon, Magnus has done something he regrets, Sarah’s not in the shelter, he said she was in the house, maybe he sealed the doors before she had a chance to get in,’ Seamus said. ‘And now he’s feeling guilty.’
‘We must contact her; Do you know the radio contact for the house George?’
‘Yes, I have a list of radio stations in the bunker.’
Abandoning his tools Connor joins Seamus and George as they head back.
‘I think I could do this walk in my sleep,’ George said, realising this is the third time today that he’s been back to the bunker.
‘Yeah, me too, keeps us fit though,’ Seamus replies laughing.
The radio is lit up as if someone is calling, when they arrive back in the communications room, thinking it will be Magnus again George answers ‘Come in. Over!’ and waits as the radio crackles before there’s a reply, but it’s not Magnus.
‘Come in. Over,’ Sarah said.
George is stunned, he didn’t expect her to know the number, he had to change it to get a better signal, from when they were here last.
‘Sarah, it’s George, where are you? Over.’
‘At the house, alive and kicking, no thanks to you, Over.’
‘Sarah, the ice is starting to thaw, but my boat won’t get through until the spring, we could wait a little longer, or you could try to get the icebreaker started and come across. Over.’
There’s an extended silence before Sarah replies, ‘Okay, I’ll try to get the icebreaker started, as far as I’m aware the keys were left in case of emergencies. Over.’
‘Yes, that’s right, go have a look then get back to us. Over and out,’ George said, hanging up the radio receiver.
‘Well that was a surprise, and she sounded sober, what do you think George?’ Seamus said.
‘Yeah, she’s sober, there’s no way drunk Sarah could hold a conversation like that.’
‘Do you think she will be able to get the icebreaker here?’
‘I hope so, at the moment it will be her only hope, there’s no way my boat will get through the ice, it’s still too thick this time of the year.’
Chapter 23.
Return to Blackcliff Island.
Sarah’s heart is pounding as if it’s trying to escape from her chest, she can’t believe that she was just talking to George, it was surreal; she really wants a drink to calm her nerves. Sitting on her hands to stop the shaking, Sarah wonders if he knew that she was sober or if he even cared? She must remember that he left her here to die, he’s not the same George she married! No, since the explosion he’s turned into a cold-hearted killer and she must remember that. Determined to get going, Sarah finds a large rucksack, emptying all the ration packs in throwing the box on the floor, she then fills the bag with as many water bottles that will fit in. Gathering enough clean clothes to do her a week, she stuffs them into the rucksack that weighs a ton, but she must bring as much as she can. Emptying the medical bag, she fills all the pockets with as much medical supplies, making sure to bring antibiotics and rehydration tablets. Lifting the two pistols and the ammo she’d taken from her neighbour’s houses; She places one pistol in her coat pocket and the other she uses a metal hook to link the gun to the backpack. When she has finished packing, Sarah takes a large industrial sized black bin bag and places it over the top of the backpack.
Pulling a hazmat suit on, she immediately begins sweating and her heart starts to race as she places a mask over her face. Acutely aware of her newly bald head, she pulls on a beany hat before pulling the hazmat hood over it. Lifting the heavy backpack onto her back and steps out into the deserted street. It’s a good half-mile walk down to the docks, but the suit is too bulky to take the car, she walks looking like a strange spaceman instead. By the time Sarah arrives at the docks she is soaking wet with sweat, even though it’s winter. She can see the red and white icebreaker and makes her way towards it, it’s huge, she can see why it’s called an icebreaker with its pointed thick front. Looking at the enormous ship, she doesn’t have a clue how to get in and walks around it, until she spots a ladder attached to the side. Leaning over until she can grab the ladder, Sarah pulls herself on, her heart racing, it’s a long way down into icy water if she slips. Her arms tire quickly as she climbs, the weight of the backpack means she must fight with gravity with every movement, looking up she’s worried that she won’t have the strength to make it to the top. Despite everything in her body screaming at her to stop, she keeps pushing herself upward. Her hands are freezing under the hazmat gloves; she forgot to put regular gloves on first. Stopping to get a breath as the snow starts falling around her, she looks across to the Atlantic Ocean, hoping she can get this ship out of here. Not wanting to stay in the snow for too long, she begins climbing faster, as much as the hazmat suit will somewhat protect her, she knows these suits are not as good as the suits George had in the Bunker. In what seems like forever she reaches up realising there are no more rungs and feels for the top of the ship. Pulling herself up, she leans over until she falls over the edge onto the ship deck. Winded, she lies on the deck balanced on the backpack as snow lands on the plastic cover of her mask. Heaving herself up into a sitting position, she looks around at the vast ship, terrified at how she is supposed to manoeuvre this out of the dock and all the way to Blackcliff Island. Making her way to the cockpit; the door is unlocked; Sarah pokes her head inside noticing the keys are in the ignition. Scanning the controls and numerous buttons, she doesn’t know where to start but closes the door. Shaking the backpack off her back, she pulls the bin bag off the top and throws it over the side of the ship before placing the backpack inside the door. Stripping out of the hazmat suit, gloves and mask, Sarah throws them over the side with the bin bag. Stepping into the cockpit she scans the controls, before looking for a user guidebook, opening drawers she finds a manual but it’s not in English, she can’t make head nor tail of it. Placing the manual back in the drawer she steps over to the wheel, surprised at how small it is, for a ship this size, she expected the steering wheel to be bigger. Looking around, she decides to get her bearings before trying to steer this beast anywhere. Grabbing her backpack, she opens a large heavy metal door, behind which are steps that lead to a lower floor, there’s another heavy metal door at the bottom of the stairs which opens up to a large open space with a small kitchen at one side, a small table and two wooden chairs. On the opposite side are a set of bunk beds. The air is fusty down here and smells like the fuel, it’s dark down here despite the two small circular windows that face starboard and out towards the Atlantic. Opening a door, she’s delighted to find a small bathroom, stepping inside, she opens the cupboard finding sealed toothbrushes, toothpaste and soap.
‘Thank goodness, I’d forgotten to pack any toiletries,’ Sarah thought.
Walking over to the kitchen she opens the cupboards and finds several ration packs, pasta, bottled water along with a large medical bag. Filling the kettle with bottled water, Sarah waits for it to boil before making a cup of coffee. Sitting at the small table, she tries to mentally prepare herself for the journey ahead, she hates the water and would never choose to captain a ship especially alone. Unfolding a map she found, Sarah tracks the route she feels would be the fastest, due south seems like it will take her almost straight to Blackcliff Island. Taking a sip from the coffee, she’s wishing that she’d paid more attention when George was talking to her about his boat. It suddenly dawns on her that she could call George on the radio, maybe he could talk her through getting this thing moving. Glancing around the room she notices several coats hanging on hooks, something catches her eye and she walks across th
e room to the coat rack. There’s a coat she recognises, it’s an unusual colour, lifting it down she realises that it’s George’s, she always liked this coat and wondered what happened to it? Putting it on, she swills down the last of her coffee, before making her way back upstairs. Lifting the radio receiver, Sarah tunes the Blackcliff Bunker radio station in.
‘Come in. Over.’
She waits for a reply but there’s just static, leaving the radio on she steps over to the steering wheel and turns the key until the engines roar to life. She spots a leaver for the anchor, pulling it down, listening as the chains pull the anchor up. There’s another leaver to her right, Sarah pushes it forward making the engines rev louder, and the ship starts moving forward,
‘Whoa,’ she said.
Pulling the leaver back into the position it was, the ship stops. Turning the wheel to the right, she pushes the leaver forward again, and the icebreaker pushes forward through the broken ice in front of it, sitting on the stool she guides the ship towards the dock exit. As she nears the exit, she hears George on the radio,
‘Come in, this is Blackcliff Island bunker. Over.’
‘George, it’s me Sarah. I’m on the icebreaker, just heading out of the dock now. Over,’
‘Are you okay, do you know what to do?’ Over!’
‘Yes, I’m moving forward. I’m not sure what to do if something goes wrong but for now, I’m good. I will make contact if I need help. Over.’
‘Okay, good luck. Over and out.’
Listening as the radio goes quiet, Sarah feels lonely and afraid. Sarah keeps the icebreaker moving forward towards the exit and can feel the waves under the ice, causing the ship to sway. As the icebreaker leaves the docks, the vast Atlantic Ocean surrounds her, and she feels very small, the icy waves are coming straight towards her and are taller than the icebreaker. Sarah pushes the ship forward in to the waves afraid to turn in case it gets knocked off track. Checking the compass, she’s pleased to see that the ship is still heading due south and locks the steering wheel to gather some supplies to keep her comfortable. It only took around six hours coming here from Blackcliff Island, but that was with experienced navigators, she’s hoping the ice and waves will settle down and it won’t take any longer than seven hours. As she settles into a routine, Sarah is pleasantly surprised that the ship remains steady, even with the waves and ice.
It’s been three hours since she set off in the icebreaker and the ice is getting less dense and the waves less severe. Sarah is annoyed with herself, she shouldn’t have had the coffee, now she’s desperate for the loo but doesn’t want to lock the wheel and leave it. Realising that it’s not going to get any easier she lowers the anchor, pulling the lever on her right, down, the ship slows to a stop, rocking with the waves. Sarah pushes the anchor lever and listens to the chains as the anchor drops. The ship stabilises as the anchor reaches the ocean floor and she dashes down the stairs to the bathroom. Whilst in the living quarters she decides to get a bite to eat and another coffee, grateful her seasickness has stayed away. Looking out the window the light has virtually gone, it’s not late but she will have to rely entirely on the sonar and compass to guide her in the right direction!
‘Or I could wait until the morning before attempting to carry on?’ she thought.
Walking back up the stairs she calls Blackcliff Island and tells them that she is anchored up for the night and will set off first thing in the morning.
Sarah is woken by a strange noise; she doesn’t know what it is and lies in bed listening to the clanking that is coming from the starboard side of the ship.
‘What is that?’ she thought, standing up pulling Georges coat around her shoulders.
The noise continues, as she walks up the stairs into the cockpit, immediately she realises that she is not alone, there’s another boat in the water below her its light bobbing with the waves. Lifting the receiver, she calls Blackcliff Island,
‘Come in. Over.’
Sarah waits impatiently for a reply.
‘Come in. Over!’ George said.
‘George, there’s another boat here, I don’t know what to do? I think they are trying to get on the ship. Over.’
‘Okay, do you have a weapon? Over.’
‘Yes, over,’
‘Use it, and do not hesitate, call me when you can. Over and out.’
Her heart racing Sarah pulls out the pistol she packed the previous day and steps out onto the upper deck, the waves are noisy, and the wind is fierce, but she can hear voices and someone climbing up the ladder. Stepping cautiously to the edge she peers over, there’s a torch moving towards her, lifting the pistol she checks that its loaded and aims at the light. Taking a deep breath in she squeezes the trigger and is momentarily deafened with noise. She watches as the torch falls into the water and sinks. Suddenly there is a gun shot from the boat, she doesn’t know where it has hit but it misses her. Lifting the pistol again, this time aiming at the boat, without hesitation she fires straight at it, as another shot rings out in the air. Turning she runs to the cockpit and starts the engine; cursing when the anchor appears to be taking forever to lift. Pushing the other lever the ship begins to move forward and away from the small boat still firing at her. Ploughing forwards full steam ahead leaving the small boat behind in the darkness, certain the boat won’t catch up, Sarah slows her pace and calls Blackcliff Island again,
‘Come in George, Over.’
‘Sarah glad you called I was worried, over,’ George replies.
‘George, there was a boat, and they were trying to get on, they could follow me and everyone on the Island will be in danger. Over.’
‘Okay, keep heading in this direction regardless, we will deal with them if we need to. Over and out.’
Not wanting to give the other boat a chance to catch up, Sarah, pushes the icebreaker to full throttle again and pushes forwards. She’s been steering the boat for almost six hours and thinks that she slept for about three hours, checking the sonar and the compass it would appear that she is close to her destination. Sarah radios Blackcliff Island giving her co-ordinates, who confirm that she is only half a mile away and should anchor the ship and use the lifeboat to get to the island. Sarah does as she’s told and makes sure the ship is secure before precariously dropping her backpack into the lifeboat before climbing in herself. Using the pulleys to lower the lifeboat into the choppy water. Pulling out the compass she begins rowing the boat in what she hopes is towards Blackcliff Island. Looking over her shoulder in the direction she is going she spots a flashing light, realising that George is guiding her. Following the light her arms ache, and the waves crash over the side of the small lifeboat, Sarah remembers reading about the life jacket that’s kept under the seat and pulls it out placing it over her head, before inflating. She finds a whistle and a torch; flashing the torch in the direction of Blackcliff Island unsure whether it will be seen or not as she continues to row, her arms burning with pain. Exhausted, Sarah has no other choice but to stop for a rest, glancing over her shoulder she can see that the light is still flashing and takes a minute to catch her breath before rowing again. She doesn’t know how long she has been out in the lifeboat, but she can’t row any longer and lies back letting the boat bob about with the waves. The sun is rising, and she can almost make out the outline of land to her right, sitting up she realises that she has drifted toward Ireland and not Blackcliff Island, she rows the boat onto the beach and sits back. Looking around she can see Blackcliff Island in the distance, the light is still flashing, but she’s too exhausted to even try to make it across now, Sarah knows that she has no other choice but to rest up before beginning the journey across the water. Lying back in the lifeboat she falls instantly asleep, only waking with the sun shining on her face. Sitting up, Sarah looks around, recognising that this is Connor and Seamus’s community. Pulling her jacket over her mouth and nose, curiosity gets the better of her and she heads in-land toward the fenced off area, where the last time she was here with George the
y were met with armed guards. As she nears the abandoned village, she has a tingling down her spine as if she is being watched. Glancing behind, there’s movement, she stops to see what it is, and steps forward, startling when a small child, at least she thinks it’s a small child steps out from behind a bush and runs toward her, not stopping until it's passed her and into the fenced off area. What was that, it looked like a child with two heads, it must be the radiation, some people must have stayed? Seamus told them that everyone went to Iceland, perhaps these are new survivors. She follows the child into the area only to be met with a shotgun in her face, lifting her hands.
‘I come in peace, my boat drifted this way, I was just looking for bottled water.’
‘Aren’t we all,’ the man with the gun said, not lowering his weapon? ‘Where were you coming from, if your boat drifted this way?’
‘Iceland, my husband is across the water, on Blackcliff Island, I’ve been trying to get home,’ Sarah tells the stranger lowering her hands as he lowers the shotgun.
‘Did you folk go to Iceland with those lying cheating fuckers Seamus and Connor?’
‘Yes, why do you say they are liars and cheaters?’
‘Not so much Connor, he didn’t want anything to do with it, but Seamus wouldn’t let us go, he only took his girls and left the rest of us here to die,’
‘I didn’t know, we were told that everyone was on the icebreaker.’
‘I’m Keith, I moved here 8 months before the explosion and now I’m stuck, there’s Siobhan, Finn and their son Sean who was born in the bunker, we were all left behind,’ Keith said, walking her towards the bunker entrance.
‘The child Sean, is he deformed from the radiation?’ Sarah asks feeling insensitive.
‘Yes, he is a conjoined twin, but he’s not the only one, we’ve had several babies die from severe deformities, our animals are deformed. There were piglets born just a few days ago and each of them has two heads and six legs it’s totally bizarre that they even survive.’