by Dayle, Harry
“Dante, what happened? What the hell happened to your hands?”
“The ash…” He was still out of breath, struggling to get the words out. “It was the ash…”
Everyone stared at the stumps at the ends of Dante’s arms. Blackened, fused by the burning ash.
The awkward silence was broken by the sound of tearing metal echoing across the fjord.
• • •
Martin charged from one end of the engine room to the other, through the open door and into a passageway. A quick left turn and through two vast chambers. Both housed gigantic tanks, each bigger than the sixty-person tender that was, unbeknownst to him, now lying wrecked in the fjord. As he ran, the sound of gushing water grew ever louder. By the third chamber, he was running through seawater. The noise was now deafening. It was coming from the fourth chamber ahead, a chamber that was filling rapidly with water, spilling over the threshold of the bulkhead. When he reached it, he tried to push the heavy metal door shut. But the water was rising, pushing the door back out towards him.
“Richard! Where are you? Get your arse down here now!”
He could hear the sound of his colleague’s steps running towards him. Then the clicking of boots on the metal floor turned to the sound of feet splashing through water, and suddenly Richard was there, pushing the door with him. Martin turned and pushed with his back. It was as big as the side of a bus shelter, and made of thick steel. On its well-oiled and balanced hinges, it was normally simple enough to swing shut, but the pressure of the water coming through made the task almost impossible. The two men heaved with all their might, feet slipping and sliding in the seawater. With an almost herculean effort, the edge of the door finally reached the frame. Martin’s foot hit on something under the water. A ring in the floor, used to tie down equipment when the going got rough. He dug his heel against it and pushed with all his weight. The extra purchase was just enough, and the door thudded into place.
“Lock it!” Martin couldn’t hold the force of the water much longer.
Richard took his hands off the door and spun the wheel mounted in the middle. Almost immediately, Martin felt the pressure release from his back as the locking bolts moved into place. He dropped forwards, his hands on his knees, head hung low, panting.
“We did it!” Richard exclaimed. “Hey, it’s okay, we got it closed, we’re safe.”
“No,” Martin said.
“No really, we’ll be fine!” Richard tried to reassure him. “That bulkhead is designed to withstand the chamber being completely flooded. We can pump out these others and we’ll be okay. We might need to pump some ballast into the tanks to balance us up a bit.”
“No. Shit, no, not that.” Martin was staring at the water.
Richard looked down. He understood the problem. It wasn’t just water they were standing in. There was diesel fuel mixed in with it too.
• • •
Chuck ripped off his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and leapt into the water. The icy cold nearly stopped his heart, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He swam as fast as he could in the direction of the raft. Fortunately it hadn’t fallen far from the ship, and there was no current to speak of, so it hadn’t moved far. Within a minute of hitting the sea he swam right into one of the oars. Stopping to tread water, he picked it up and threw it as hard as he could manage in the direction of the raft. He swam on, stopping twice more to throw the oar further, before finally it landed inside the inflatable. Shortly afterwards he arrived there himself. Using the orange rope tied around the outside to pull himself up, he rolled into the emergency vessel. He got to his knees and looked around for the second oar. It had floated off towards the shore. Positioning himself at the front of the raft he began to paddle. A stroke to the left, pull the paddle out of the water, then a stroke to the right. It wasn’t quick, but he was going in the right direction. When he reached the second oar he retrieved it and set it down beside him. The raft was too wide for one person to row conventionally, but the oar would be useful when he had help coming back.
• • •
“What just happened?” Jake was desperately trying to see where the noise had come from, but the ship was too far out to see clearly. From his position on the shore, everything looked fine. “Get Max on the radio, find out what’s going on!”
Reeve put his hand in his inside pocket. His expression changed. He pulled out an empty hand and tried the other pocket. “Shit.”
“Where’s the radio, Reeve?” Jake already knew the answer.
“It must have fallen out when I slipped. Damn it!”
“Well, there’s not much we can do about that, so I guess we’ll find out what’s happened when we get back over there.” Jake was starting to feel a certain sense of detachment. This landing expedition had turned into a disaster. If he didn’t know what had just happened on the ship, well at least it was one less thing to worry about. For now.
Dante had got his breath back. He and Reeve were perched on top of the tender. Jake and Kiera were sitting opposite on the very edge of the broken pier, as far away from the deadly ash as they could.
“I hadn’t got far, but I wasn’t sure I was going the right way. On the map we looked at, there was a road from here to the airport. I couldn’t tell if I was on the road or just some rock — it was all covered in ash. So I was kicking the ash with my feet, trying to see what was underneath, you know, like you do in the snow sometimes? And I saw something shiny where I’d cleared a bit with my foot. I crouched down to get a better look. I started pushing the ash away to the sides with my hands. And then…” He raised the stubs of his forearms in the air, looking at them like he still couldn’t quite believe it.
“How did you stop it going any further?” Jake asked. “With Horace and Stacey it…well, you know.”
“I ran to the sea and shoved my hands in. I thought they were burning, it felt like they were on fire. I just wanted them to stop burning! And when they hit the water they just…they just kind of disintegrated.”
“Jesus,” Reeve said, shaking his head.
Kiera wore an expression of deep sympathy, but didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Jake said. “This is my fault. We should never have brought so many people over here. We should have taken it slower.”
“No,” Dante said. “This is nobody’s fault.”
“Look!” Kiera was pointing out towards the fjord.
Reeve and Dante turned their heads. Paddling over the water was a black-and-red inflatable life raft.
• • •
“The fuel tank ruptured?” Richard hadn’t moved. He remained rooted to the spot.
“Impossible. It’s too far from the hull. Whatever we hit couldn’t have pierced that deeply.” Martin shook his head.
“But that’s oil, diesel oil. Floating on the water.”
“Yes. But it can’t be. Unless…oh shit!”
Martin flew forwards, trying to run around the massive tank in the chamber. But his legs had to fight against the water, slowing him down. Richard watched as the chief engineer appeared to advance in slow motion. On the other side of the tank was a thick white pipe that ran the length of the chamber. It passed through the walls at each end, and at half a meter from both walls, a red wheel protruded from the pipe. Martin spun the wheel nearest the flooded chamber.
“Of course,” Richard said, looking on. “The fuel line. It didn’t puncture the tank, it broke the fuel line.”
“That’s shut off the line,” Martin said, panting from the effort. “That’ll stop any fuel from tank three leaking out.”
“You realise, of course you do, that it means we lose access to tank five?”
“I know. But it’s going to leak out of the broken line too. One and two are already empty. We’ve just lost the use of two thirds of our remaining fuel supply.”
• • •
It took a considerable time for the raft to reach the pier. For one thing, paddling from the front wit
h a single oar was slow work. For another, Chuck had to try and steer round the giant lumps of concrete protruding from the water, and the even more dangerous ones, hidden just beneath the surface. When he did eventually reach the upturned tender, Dante had lost consciousness. The pain and the cold had been too much.
“I’m going to lower him down, grab his legs,” Reeve called to Chuck. He had his hands under the unconscious man’s arms and was dragging him nearer the raft. He pulled him round so that his legs hung over the side facing the Spirit of Arcadia. Chuck grabbed Dante’s ankles and pulled them into the raft as Reeve lowered him down.
“One down. Now you two,” Reeve said, looking over at Jake and Kiera. “Whoa!”
All the movement had unbalanced the capsized boat. They had assumed it had come to a rest on the sea bed, but in fact the water was much deeper. The underwater side of the tender was actually stuck on a pointed piece of concrete below the surface. The shifting weight of Reeve and Dante had caused the tender to tilt towards its back. With a creak, it upended, launching Reeve headfirst into the fjord. He disappeared from view, then popped out of the water a few metres away, spitting and coughing. He was just in time to see the remainder of the boat disappear with a glugging sound and a muddle of air bubbles. Chuck was already paddling towards Reeve, who reached out for the rope and pulled himself onto the raft. He understood why Dante had lost consciousness; the cold water had sucked the feeling from his hands and feet. Dante had the added problems of blood loss and shock to deal with. Passing out was probably the best he could have done under the circumstances.
With the tender gone, it was actually easier for Chuck to get up close to the pier. Jake and Kiera lowered themselves into it with relative ease.
“Okay, Reeve, ready to help me row?” Chuck said, holding out a plastic oar.
Thirty-Nine
THE LIFE RAFT made quick time back to the ship, aided by Reeve. Max was waiting at the bottom of the steps, along with one of his new recruits. Jake noted, with dismay, that they were both bearing arms.
Chuck jumped onto the platform with a rope and secured them. Dante was helped off first, and the others followed.
“Come with me, I’ll take you down to medical. Grau is going to need to look at this,” Kiera said, and disappeared with Dante.
“Reeve, what’s the situation? Any immediate danger to the ship?” Max asked.
“No, sir. I believe we are safe here. But the environment on land is extremely dangerous.” He outlined what had happened with the ash, and the fate of Stacey and Horace. Max was clearly shaken, but he was a professional and hardly let it show.
“Max, you should get back to patrolling, keep an eye out,” Jake said, scrambling to the platform. “Who knows who saw what, or what rumours are going to spread? Things could turn nasty. We’ll talk about the guns later.”
“I sought authorisation, Captain,” Max said defensively.
“I’m sure you did. Like I said, we’ll talk about it later. Can I borrow Reeve for a bit?”
Max nodded. He turned and headed off, one hand on the rifle slung over his shoulder.
“What do you want me to do with the raft, Captain?” Chuck asked.
“Leave it tied up for now. We might need it.” Jake couldn’t immediately think of any reason why that should be, but he thought it best to keep his options open. “Reeve, I think you’d better come to the bridge with me.” He turned to Chuck. “Thank you, sailor, you did a good job there.”
Reeve and Jake started on the long walk up the stairs towards deck ten.
• • •
“Where’s Stacey?” Melvin asked as soon as Jake had shut the door to the bridge behind Reeve.
“Jake! How are you? What happened? Are you okay? Max said it was dangerous!” Lucya threw her arms around him, then remembered his rank and the fact there were others present, and stepped back.
“I’m fine. What happened to the ship? We heard a sound, like…” Jake wasn’t sure what it was like.
“I asked you where Stacey is.”
“Lucya?” Jake said, ignoring Melvin.
“I screwed up, that’s what happened.” She looked away, embarrassed. “I ordered Pedro to take us in closer. I thought the raft would get to you quicker. But we must have hit one of those submerged bits of concrete pier. Shit, I’m sorry, Jake, it was my fault, I take full responsibility.”
“Do we know the extent of the damage?”
“Martin is on his way up here. He said it’s pretty bad, but under control.”
“Captain Noah, are you going to tell me where Stacey is?” Melvin stepped between Jake and Lucya, making himself impossible to ignore any longer.
“Melvin, you should…perhaps you should sit down,” Jake sighed.
“Why? What’s happened?”
“There was an accident. Well, not so much an accident. It’s more that we didn’t know about the ash. But Stacey went off without the rest of us, she should have waited and…”
“What are you saying, man? Pull yourself together and give me a coherent explanation. Where is Stacey?”
“She’s dead, Melvin, okay? She’s dead!” Jake shouted. “And so is Horace. He tried to save her, and now he’s dead too.”
“Oh my God!” Lucya’s hand flew to cover her open mouth.
“You absolute…!” Melvin flew forwards, wrapping his hands around Jake’s neck and squeezing. “I’ll kill you! You bastard, do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”
“No! Stop! Get off him!” Lucya screamed, looking around in panic. “Somebody stop him!”
But Reeve was already there, pulling Melvin away from Jake’s neck. The instant the two men were separated, Melvin’s hand curled into a fist and powered into Reeve’s belly. The two men were of a similar size, but Reeve was fitter and stronger. He was winded, but far from beaten. He locked a powerful hand around Melvin’s wrist, twisting it up and around behind him. With his free hand he pushed on his shoulder, sending him to his knees. Jake was staggering backwards, still clutching at his throat. Lucya ran to him once more, but he backed away from her, trying to shake his head.
Someone hammered on the door. Nobody moved. Reeve had Melvin pinned to the floor, Jake was still recovering, Pedro and Dave were looking on in stunned silence, and Lucya seemed to be in shock. More banging, and the sound of someone shouting snapped her out of it. She undid the security bolt and let Martin in. His face was like thunder. Seeing Melvin on the floor didn’t seem to worry him in the slightest.
“You’ve really done it now, Jakey boy. Oh you have gone and royally screwed us. Leaving her in charge,” he almost spat the words out, “while you fuck off on your jolly. One incompetent leaves another to run the show. And oh, what a performance she puts on. Crashing, Jake. Crashing the ship and rupturing the hull.”
“Oh Jesus,” Lucya whispered.
“I don’t think Jesus is around, love. Or if he was, he would have obliterated our sorry arses with that asteroid, because that would have been kinder. Now we’re doomed to die on this ship because, and get this because it’s great, it’s abso-fucking-lutely marvellous, she not only ruptured the hull, but she took out the fuel line. Oh yes, you heard me right. Fuel tank four is, right now, spurting its contents into the fjord. The fjord is returning the favour by filling the tank room with water.”
Having got his rant out, Martin deflated somewhat. He found a chair and collapsed into it, covering his face with his hands.
“If I understand you correctly, we’ve lost one fifth of our fuel?” Jake croaked, recovering slowly. “We have five tanks on board, no?”
Melvin had stopped struggling and was now listening intently to the engineer.
“No, Jake. No, we didn’t lose one fifth. Two tanks were empty. Two are now leaking out through the broken pipe. We have one tank left. The tank we’ve been running on the last two days. Our fuel is at less than twenty percent.”
• • •
In a dark corner of the casino, a group of passengers were talking in hushe
d voices.
“What’s happening? What did they find over there?”
“I heard that the asteroid turned everyone into zombies, that they ran into a load of Norwegians who had become the walking dead.”
“That’s stupid. But they definitely found something bad. The security men were running round in a panic. And we saw them come back in a life raft. What happened to their boat?”
“My wife said a security guard told her the land was toxic, that it makes your skin melt.”
“That’s as stupid as the zombie thing!”
“Well whatever happened, I don’t reckon we’ll be getting off anytime soon.”
“If you ask me, it’s time for that election.”
“What election?”
“Apparently the captain promised an election if it turned out there are no other survivors.”
“I reckon I should stand.”
“That Melvin guy is going to stand. He sounds amazing, he led a mutiny and got them to let him stay on the bridge. He’s looking out for all of us, because otherwise they want to control us.”
“Yeah, enslave us.”
“We have to vote for Melvin. Pass the word on.”
On every deck, the same whispered conversations were taking place.
• • •
“If he lets you go, are you going to behave?” Jake asked Melvin.
“I ought to kill you.”
“I take it that’s a no, then. Reeve, you’re going to have to tie him up.”
“No! Wait. Think about Tania Bloom. If you tie me up then the others will know. When I don’t make contact, they’ll kill her. Do you want more blood on your hands today, Captain?”
Jake groaned. He knew his hands were tied, therefore Melvin’s never could be.
“Okay, let him go. But if he tries anything, we’re rounding up all his cronies and searching this ship top to bottom for Tania.”