by Dayle, Harry
Jake had an idea how Flynn had got away. He climbed another flight of stairs. On deck eleven he found an exterior door, went out on deck, and sprinted towards the bow of the ship until he was above and slightly behind the bridge. Its floor-to-ceiling windows extended out over the sea, giving almost full three-sixty-degree visibility. The rear-facing windows that had been blown out by the ash cloud had since been covered in plastic, keeping the cold air out. Jake looked down; his suspicion was confirmed. The plastic sheet covering the innermost window was shredded. Flynn must have climbed out. If he hadn’t fallen into the sea, he must have either jumped and landed on one of the balconies below, or climbed up and onto the bridge roof, where he could then get onto the deck eleven promenade. It was a sizeable drop to the balconies, and they were a small target to hit. Climbing seemed like the most obvious choice. Even so, he’d had time to get a good distance away. He could be almost anywhere by now.
Jake turned and ran back the way he had come, searching around desperately, but there was nothing to give any clue as to which way the mutineer had gone.
The radio in his hand burst into life.
“Jake? Ralf. I’ve hacked into the security cameras. Four of us are sweeping the ship now.”
“Understood,” Jake replied. Then he had an idea. “Ralf, the cameras store the last twelve hours of footage. If you can, check anything on the starboard side, deck eleven. Flynn climbed out of the bridge window. You might be able to track him.”
“Roger that, we’re on it.”
Jake attached the radio to his belt. He had no idea what to do next. In desperation he set off around the exterior promenade of the deck. If Flynn knew the game was up, he figured he would probably try and keep a low profile, avoid going inside where he might come face to face with the Royal Navy.
He walked fast, checking anywhere he thought the fugitive might hide. Behind stairways, inside deck-chair stowage units. There were a thousand places to hide, just on the sun deck alone.
The radio crackled again. He whipped it off his belt just in time to hear Ralf’s voice.
“Jake, we see him. You were right, he climbed out over deck eleven. We tracked him down to deck seven. He’s in some kind of park. I’ve sent some of Red Team up there. You should stay put, out of harm’s way.”
Jake stood where he was, rooted to the spot. He knew that he should let the professionals handle it. On the other hand, he knew the ship better than they did. He could get there faster. His mind made up, he ran inside.
• • •
He flew through the ship and down the stairs, taking them two at a time, arriving at deck seven out of breath but no less determined. The nearest entrance to Palm Plaza was just metres away.
Also between himself and that door was the door to one of the larger cafes. It was full. They had evidently been using it for the lunchtime ration service in addition to the three restaurants. The service was coming to an end, and the first diners were starting to leave. A group of a dozen or so people were pouring through the doors. One of them spotted Jake.
“Hey! Look, that’s that guy! The captain. The murderer!”
“Jesus, it really is him!”
Somebody screamed.
“What the fuck is he doing, walking about freely?”
Jake raised his hands slightly, showing he wasn’t armed.
“Now, now, take it easy, folks. I didn’t kill anyone, okay? I was framed.”
“Framed? You hear that, Jimmy? Says he was framed.” The man spoke with a thick northern Irish accent.
“Aye, I heard what he said, Paul, but I know what I saw, and I saw that man with a gun.”
“So what are we gonna do with him then, the murdering bastard?”
The two men advanced on him menacingly, the rest of the crowd huddled behind them. Jake backed up slowly, keeping his hands in the air.
“You’re making a big mistake!” he said.
“We’re making a mistake? I’d say you made a big fucking mistake when you shot three people. And if the new captain isn’t going to take care of you, then we are!”
The leading men broke into a run. Jake turned and ran back up the stairs. His legs were burning from the effort of his sprint down, but the adrenaline pumping through him pushed him on regardless. He mounted one flight and charged out of the stairwell into the deck eight main passageway, bounced off a wall, righted himself, and ran as fast as he could. A glance over his shoulder and he could see the four men just metres behind.
“Come back here, you coward. Time to face real justice!”
The effort of pumping so much air into his lungs was making Jake’s side explode with pain. Vardy’s pills taken with breakfast were no match for the physical exertion he was subjecting his body to.
He reached the next staircase, threw open the door, and ran down the steps, missing the last five entirely. He landed heavily, tripped, and stumbled. The men were gaining on him. He forced himself upright and ran again, limping slightly. His ankle had twisted. They were almost upon him now, but they hadn’t got him yet. With monumental effort he half-pushed half-fell through a door into Palm Plaza.
Only a rudimentary effort had been made to clear the park area since the asteroid. There was still a lot of ash around, although somebody had swept around the perimeter, keeping it out of the cafes and bars. The palms themselves looked dead, broken. It was a grey, desolate place.
In the middle, on his knees, was Flynn.
• • •
Jake limped forwards; the men chasing him bundled through the doors. They stopped dead when they saw Flynn. He was facing them, getting to his feet. He had a gun in his hands.
“Hello, Jake,” he said. “So you came back then?”
“I brought some friends with me.”
The men behind him looked at each other, confused.
“Hey, Captain Flynn, we’re no friends of this murderer. Are you going to finish him off properly, or do we have to do it ourselves?” Jimmy said. There was a murmur of others agreeing behind him.
“No, these aren’t my friends,” Jake said. “Mine are from the Royal Navy. They’re on their way here, right now.”
“Jake, Jake. Your terrorist friends are stuck fighting on the bridge. My men are well armed. There’s only one door. They can hold out indefinitely. As for my friends? I have many. Thousands. You cannot possibly overpower me.” Flynn laughed.
Then he stopped, raised his gun, and pointed it at Jake.
Jake raised his hands in the air, and stole a glance over his shoulder. The men behind him came around to his side, out of the way of any bullets that might go astray.
“Flynn, the game’s up. You know it, I know it. We’re going to show these people the truth. We’re going to show them how you framed me, and how you plan on killing them all.”
Jake looked around nervously. He could see the tiniest shadow of doubt play across the faces of the men who had led the chase. Flynn must have noticed too.
“You’re a desperate man, spouting desperate rubbish. I should never have given you the chance to survive. Setting you free was a mistake. But mistakes can be corrected, and I intend to fix that one. I’m changing my sentence. For the murder of two men, you are now sentenced to death.”
There was a click as Flynn released the safety catch.
Jake cried out and tried to move, but his feet remained rooted to the spot.
A gunshot echoed throughout Palm Plaza.
Sixty-Five
THE EXPRESSION ON Flynn’s face was something Jake would never forget. It morphed, slowly, from an evil, snarling grin, to a look of total incomprehension. He stared down at his chest. Blood was pumping out of a hole in his heart, spurting over the floor, turning the grey ash red. He looked up and saw something above Jake’s head. His eyes opened wide, disbelieving. The gun clattered to the floor, sending a little mushroom cloud of dust and ash into the air. His legs buckled, and Flynn fell to his knees.
Another gunshot rang out. The sound bounced back and forth
between the walls of the six decks that overlooked the Plaza. A second hole appeared in Flynn’s chest. He opened his mouth, tried to speak. No words came out, only a dribble of blood. He keeled over and landed, face first, in the ash.
Then, silence.
Jake looked at the dead man in front of him.
The men either side of Jake looked at the dead man.
Then everyone turned and looked up, behind Jake, to where Flynn had cast his gaze. Standing on a cafe balcony, one deck above, trembling, was Martin. His arms were outstretched, a pistol held tightly between both hands.
“What the…? You killed him!” Jimmy yelled. “You killed the fucking captain!”
The doors burst open. Five submariners brandishing automatic weapons, charged out.
“Everyone down on the floor, now! I said now!”
Jimmy and Paul looked around, bewildered. They sank slowly to their hands and knees, then lowered themselves onto the dusty ground. The others in the mob did as they were instructed. Jake also made to lie on the floor.
“Jake? Come here, get behind us!”
“Ewan! It’s okay, he’s dead. Flynn is dead.” He stepped aside so the navy man could clearly see the body. Three others surged forwards, guns raised, alert and searching for any threat. They soon spotted Martin, who remained frozen to the spot.
“You! Put your weapon down and your hands on your head! Do it! Do it now!”
Three guns were quickly trained on the engineer.
“No!” Jake yelled. “Don’t shoot him! That’s Martin, our chief engineer. He shot Flynn. He saved my life.”
Martin seemed to snap out of his daze. He parted his hands and slowly and carefully brought his right arm down by his side, lowering the gun onto a table, before quickly raising both hands above his head.
“Eddy, get up there and check he’s alone,” Ewan said.
“Jake, I’m sorry. I should have believed you from the start,” Martin called out.
“It’s okay, Martin. I can’t blame you for what Flynn did. How did you know I was here?”
“I’ve been monitoring them on the security cameras. When you said you’d been framed, I wanted to believe you. I went back and found the bridge videos. Saw everything Flynn said. Then I hid out, down below, keeping an eye on the cameras. I saw what was happening. Jake, I know where they’re holding the others.”
Eddy appeared on the balcony. He patted the engineer down, then turned and nodded to Ewan.
“Show us,” Ewan said. “Show us where they are. You two stay here, keep this lot under control. You, with me.” He signalled to the third man who had entered with him. “Jake, I suppose I can’t convince you to wait here?”
“You suppose correctly,” Jake said, heading for the door.
Sixty-Six
“HOW IS HE holding up, Grau?”
“There is nothing more I can do for him, Lucya, I am sorry. I have made him comfortable, but further than that, I have nothing here to work with.”
Lucya bent over the man laid out on the floor between herself and the doctor.
“It’s okay, Max,” she said. “We’ll get you out of here. Somehow.”
“It’s a good job he can’t hear you,” Barry said. “Because we’re not getting out of here, are we? He’s going to leave us to die down here.”
“No, I told you. He needs me. They have to come back for me, sooner or later. When they do, we’ll storm the door. It’s our only chance.”
“Right,” Silvia said. “She’s right. And I’m with her.”
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of shouting. It was coming from the other side of the thick steel door, so it was impossible to tell what was being said.
Lucya ran over and put her ear to the metal.
“What is it? What’s going on out there?” Silvia asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t hear—”
She was cut off by what sounded like gunshots.
“Get down!” she screamed. “Everyone, down! Barry, get over here. If that door opens, this is our chance.”
Reluctantly, he did as she asked and took up position next to the door, his back to the wall.
More gunshots. The sound of a bolt being slid back. The door opened just a crack.
Lucya looked at Barry. Mouthed to him, “Ready?”
He nodded quickly.
The door opened further, and the barrel of a rifle poked through the gap. Lucya grabbed it and tugged as hard as she could. The man holding the gun came tumbling through the door and crashed to the ground. Lucya pulled the gun from his hands, swung it round, and pointed it at him.
Another man stepped into the small, dark room. Barry leapt out from the wall and onto the man’s back with a primal scream. The man turned on the spot, trying to shake him off.
“Stop!” a voice cried out. “Everyone stop!”
Lucya swung around. “Jake? Is that you? Jake!” She saw him standing there, framed in the doorway. She tossed the gun to the floor and ran to him, throwing both arms around him, hugging him tight to her.
“Argh, ouch! No!”
She fell back as he grasped at his side.
“You’re hurt? What happened?”
“Save it!” Ewan yelled. He pushed the two of them aside as he entered the room, weapon raised, sweeping it rapidly left to right, then back to the left.
“It’s only us,” Lucya said. “There are no guards here, only us.”
Ewan lowered the gun, grinning at the girl.
“You must be Lucya,” he said. “I’ve heard about you.” He looked down at his colleague, cowering on the floor. “Looks like it’s true, what Jake said.”
Jake grinned. He picked up his radio and found the transmit button.
“Ralf? Jake. Are you receiving?”
“Jake, got you loud and clear.”
“What’s happening on the bridge?”
“Blue Team have taken it. They’ve confirmed four disciples dead.”
“We’ve taken out two, and there are two under guard in the engine room. The hostages are safe. You can go ahead and play the tape.”
“Understood,” Ralf said. The radio went dead.
A few seconds later, a voice began to speak. It could be heard throughout the ship via the public address system.
“Mr Noah, congratulations. You played your role better than I could have hoped. I was afraid you would drop the gun as soon as Gunter put it in your hands…”
For the next ten minutes, everyone on board the Spirit of Arcadia listened in silence to the recording, and learnt how very close they had come to death.
Sixty-Seven
JAKE, LUCYA, AND Martin sat at the table in the cafe. Claude had brought them all extra rations.
“Martin, I meant to ask you,” Jake said. “Where did you get the gun?”
“I found it. On deck three, near your cabin. It was just lying there. I picked it up, meant to bring it up to the weapons cabinet, but then everything went mad.”
“So that’s where it went.” Jake nodded to himself.
“You know, there are still three guns unaccounted for,” Lucya said. “And there are at least two disciples out there and we have no idea who they were.”
“At least?” Martin asked.
“It could be three. We don’t know if he replaced Gunter after Zhang killed him.”
“Well, whatever happened to them, I feel a lot safer now with your new friends around,” Martin said, nodding towards the next table at which half a dozen submariners were sat eating. “And I have to say, great choice in friends. They come with their own nuclear power station. You’ve not only saved the ship from Flynn, you’ve solved our little energy crisis.”
“You think that could really work?” Jake asked. “Can we really power the Spirit of Arcadia from the sub’s reactor?”
“Well, it’s not quite as simple as plugging it in like a television. But yeah, technically there’s no reason why not. For electricity at least, if not propulsion. That thing could provide
power for this ship for at least twenty-five years.”
“It’s not just about power though, is it, Martin?” Lucya said. “We’ll run out of food before twenty-five years.”
“Well, I had some thoughts about that too.” Martin grinned at Jake. “It all starts with planting up Palm Plaza with fruit and vegetables.”
“As long as it doesn’t include culling the population, I’m all for giving it a try,” Jake said.
“Then you’d better start reassigning roles, Captain Noah.”
“Wait, what? You’re going to take over as captain again?” Lucya’s face lit up. “Really?”
“There are some fine details to work out with Coote. His sub is still his sub, even if we’re going to be tied together from now on, sharing resources. But yes, I’m ready to take it on. There’s hope now, real hope. There could be more submarines out there, and maybe other survivors. And it’s like you said, we have all the skills on board to create a real society. It will be hard, but life is worth fighting for. I’m ready to lead that fight. We’re the survivors; let’s keep on surviving.”
###
The Adventure Continues…
OUT NOW: Noah’s Ark: Contagion
They narrowly escaped the end of the world, but the real problems for the three thousand souls aboard the Spirit of Arcadia have only just begun.
Now their priority is to find enough food to sustain the whole community; possibly the last humans alive.
Captain Jake Noah has a plan, but there’s barely time to put it into action before a new menace threatens the lives of everyone: a deadly virus. As the mutated contagion sweeps the ship, the race is on to create a cure before all succumb to a painful — and messy — demise.
• • • • • •
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