Claire quickly scanned the anchorage. ‘She’s not here, and we don’t know when she’ll be back. If someone’s been shot, I’ll need to see to them as soon as possible. I don’t want anyone else dying if they don’t have to.’ Clearly, she was rattled by the fact that Gordon had lost his life trying to find supplies so she’d be able to treat people better in just this type of situation.
I could see where Claire was coming from, but something was niggling at me about the whole situation; I just couldn’t work out what. I glanced at Tom and could see he was troubled by similar thoughts. In the meantime, Sophie was already in the rib and Claire was about to follow.
‘Wait, I’ll come with you. You never know, I might be able to help out.’ Before I could stop him, Tom leapt into the rib, too.
Nick smiled. ‘It’s okay with me; any of the rest of you want to come?’
Daz made to move forward, but I stopped him. ‘I need you here.’ I looked at Claire and then Tom. ‘We’ll sail over in the morning and pick you up.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Tom waved over his shoulder as the rib turned and sped out of the bay. I stared after them, trying to work out what was causing the odd feeling deep in my stomach. The fact that Gordon was dead had a lot to do with it, but there was something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Just then, I heard the sound of Mitch’s seaplane off in the distance. Searching the sky, I saw it coming in from the west. Within minutes, it had dropped onto the water and come to a halt a few feet from the back of the boat. Mitch climbed out onto the pontoon and nodded in the direction the rib had just disappeared in. ‘What did they want?’
‘They wanted Claire. They were attacked while trying to get supplies for the clinic.’ I stared off into the distance. ‘Gordon’s dead, and one of the marines was shot in the confusion. Claire’s gone to see if she can fix him up.’
Mitch’s brow furrowed. ‘That can’t be right. I’ve spent most of the afternoon trying to see if I could find any infected drifting around out there and I saw the ribs over at the Suil Ghorm Lighthouse on my way out; the thing is, they were still there when I passed it again an hour ago. They can’t have been trying to get supplies there, and the lighthouse was automated years ago so there’s no one on the island; infected or otherwise.’
Now I was worried. ‘Could you see what they were doing?’
‘I didn’t really pay them much attention, I just noticed they were there and moved on.’ Mitch’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘Because if that’s the case, then Nick must’ve been lying about what happened.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘I don’t know.’ I glanced around uneasily: night had fallen as we spoke, but I knew the waters well enough to handle the passage in the dark. ‘But I think I need to see if I can find out.’ I leaned into the companionway, ‘Daz, get up here; we need to head up to Rhum right away.’
‘Daz, pull in the sheet there,’ I pointed to the left, ’and tighten up the jib.’
We were a couple of hours out of Tobermory, and with stiff winds, we were making good progress. Yet, I wanted to go faster. Daz wasn’t listening to me; instead, he was staring back the way we’d come.
‘Daz, sheets!’
He pointed over the stern. ‘Ben, is that no’ Mitch?’
I turned to see the seaplane flying low over the water towards us, flames spewing from the engine compartment.
‘Yes, and she’s in big trouble!’ I steered the boat into the wind, trying to work out what to do next. As I watched, the seaplane stuttered and dipped towards the sea. Somehow, Mitch was managing to keep it in the air, but it didn’t look like she’d be able to continue to do so for much longer.
A realisation of what was about to happen swept over me. ‘Daz, pass me the spotlight.’
Daz reached into the cabin and pulled it from its bracket before handing it to me. I pointed it in Mitch’s direction, clicking it on and off several times. Mitch must have seen my signal because she changed her course and headed directly towards us.
Daz’s eyes widened. ‘What’re we going to do?’
‘Get the dinghy ready!’ I pulled the boat round, trying to shorten the distance between us. ‘She’s going to end up in the water, and when that happens, we’ll need to get her out as soon as possible.’
Within a couple of minutes, we had the dinghy over the side and ready to go. Just then there was a loud crash, and I glanced up to see the seaplane had finally hit the sea some 200 yards away. I turned the boat into the wind once more before jumping into the dinghy; cranking the engine as far as I dared, I sped across the choppy waters. It was only a few minutes before I reached the stricken aeroplane, but it felt like an age.
As I neared, I could see flames licking up the left-hand side towards the wings as it tilted sharply to the right. Inside, Mitch was lying, unmoving, across the controls. Bringing the dinghy alongside, I climbed onto the pontoon and pulled on the door; it didn’t move. I banged it hard and tried again: this time it opened; Mitch stirred, lifting her head and looking around, a dazed expression on her face.
‘Mitch, over here! You need to get out of there!’
Mitch stared at me, as if trying to work out where I’d come from.
‘Mitch, the plane’s on fire,’ I beckoned to her. ‘You need to get out!’
‘Oh, right … Yeah.’ Mitch turned her head, but remained in her seat. The heat from the flames was becoming unbearable and the plane’s cockpit was rapidly filling with thick, acrid smoke. Knowing there wasn’t much time, I leaned into the cockpit and punched the release button on Mitch’s seatbelt before pulling her towards the door. This seemed to be the jolt she needed to bring her round, and she scrambled into the dinghy behind me. I gunned the engine; we made it about twenty yards before the fuel tank in the wing finally exploded, engulfing the plane in a fireball that rose thirty feet into the air. By the time we got back to the boat, the plane had sunk from sight, leaving nothing but an oily slick on the water and the lingering smell of burnt kerosene.
‘That was close. Mitch, are you okay?’ Daz was peering into the dinghy.
Mitch ran her fingers through her hair, flinching as she reached the point where it was stained with blood. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit banged up.’
Daz and I helped her onto the boat; other than the shallow gash on the side of her head and badly bruised ribs, she’d got away lightly.
‘So what happened back there?’ Then another thought occurred to me. ‘What were you doing flying at night? Were you looking for us?’
Mitch dabbed at the cut on her head with a wad of tissues. ‘No. It’s Tobermory; I don’t know what happened. Somehow the straw bales at the north end caught fire. We tried to put them out, but the fire was too well set in. I realised it was only a matter of time before it burnt through and the infected could get in. We wouldn’t be able to hold them off on our own and I thought our best chance was to get the marines to come and help us, so I got out to the plane and took off.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I spotted them almost immediately, sitting in the water as if they were waiting for something to happen.
I was confused. ‘Spotted who?’
‘The marines; in one of the ribs; they were just up the coast from Tobermory. I circled round to get their attention, only when they realised I was there, they opened fire.’
An incredulous expression flashed across Daz’s face. ‘They shot at you?’
‘Yeah.’ Mitch frowned. ‘It was like I caught them by surprise or something. Once they saw I was hit, they sped off towards Tobermory.’
I paced around the cockpit. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
I’d assumed the other rib had taken the injured man back to Rhum, but it couldn’t have made it all the way there and back again in the little over two hours which had passed since Nick had come to get Claire.
‘Ben,’ Mitch glanced at me, ‘you don’t think they could have had something to do with the barricade catching fire, do you?’
‘I don’t know, but we’d better go and see if we can find out.’ With that I turned the boat sharply and headed back the way we’d come.
We saw the flames from Tobermory well before we finally pulled into the bay. The straw bales which had kept the inhabitants safe for so long were now nothing more than ashes and many of the houses which formed the barrier at the back of what had once been the safe area were ablaze. By the light of the fires, we could see the infected: they clustered around the bodies scattered along the road; pulling and tearing at the flesh of those they’d just killed. Close to the shore, a young girl, about the same age as Sophie, was silhouetted against the flames as she chewed at the face of a man I no longer recognised. I shone the spotlight on her and she looked up: blood dripping from her pale face, her long, blonde hair matted with the red liquid. Her eyes searched the darkness, burning with anger. She stood up and took a step towards the water; now she could sense that the living were near, she was no longer interested in the dead.
‘Turn it off! I don’t want to see her like that.’ Mitch looked away, unable to watch any more, and I realised who the girl was, or at least who she’d once been. I switched off the spotlight. ‘Sorry, Mitch.’
‘You couldn’t have known.’ Mitch wiped her face. ‘She was so beautiful, and now look at her … what’s left of her.’
‘I don’t understand it. How come none of them tried to get away?’ Daz stared in disbelief. ‘They could’ve just swum out to any of the boats in the harbour an’ been safe. Hamish an’ me talked about it when we first arrived; what would be the best chance of escapin’ if the infected somehow got in.’ There was a pause before he spoke again. ‘How come they just stayed on the shore an’ let the infected get them?’
I stared back towards the remnants of the town which had felt like our last semblance of normality, wondering, like Daz, how it was possible that no one had escaped. There must have come a point when they knew the infected were going to get in: yet, it looked like none of them had even tried to get away. Knowing we wouldn’t find the answer here, we turned and headed back out of the bay; after all, with everything gone, there was little reason to stay.
‘Wait, what’s that?’ Daz was pointing ahead of the boat. I clicked on the spotlight again and played it across the water where it illuminated a man’s body floating face down, arms out to the side.
‘Daz, wheel!’ I ran forward and as the body came alongside, I reached down and grabbed the back of the man’s jacket, pulling it up until I could reach through the guard rails and grip him properly. ‘Mitch, can you give me a hand?’
Between the two of us, we managed to manhandle the body onto the deck. By then, Daz had turned the boat into the wind and we were no longer moving. I rolled the body over and Mitch gasped. ‘Oh shit!’
It was Hamish. There were no signs he’d been attacked by the infected; instead there were three large holes in his chest.
Daz stared, wide-eyed. ‘He’s been shot!’
Mitch slumped down onto the roof of the cabin, looking lost. I looked grimly at Daz. ‘That explains why no one managed to get away.’
‘We need to work out what’s going on.’ I paced back and forth; Daz was at the helm, while Mitch and I were in the cabin. ‘Why would the marines attack Tobermory?’
‘I don’t know, but Nick’s had it in for us right from the start.’ Mitch shook her head. ‘You heard him in the bar the other night. Maybe with Gordon gone, he thought he’d get his revenge.’
‘Yeah, but it doesn’t really make sense.’ I stopped and stared up the companionway, watching Daz for a few seconds as he adjusted the wheel to keep us on course. ‘I mean, if the other rib was waiting outside Tobermory, then it can’t have been taking an injured man back to Rhum, and from what you said, they spent most of today at the Suil Ghorm Lighthouse, not out looking for supplies for the clinic.’ I rubbed my forehead. ‘So how did Gordon end up dead?’ A coldness suddenly rushed over me. ‘You don’t think Nick had anything to do with that, do you?’
‘I don’t know, but I think we need to find out.’ She pointed west. ‘The lighthouse is just over there, we could be at it in a couple of hours; it’s not that far out of the way. If we can work out what they were doing there, it might help us understand the bigger picture … whatever that might be.’
‘You’re right.’ I strode across the cabin and climbed into the cockpit, taking the wheel from Daz. He looked at me curiously as I turned it left until we were on a new heading, taking us straight towards the lighthouse which, thanks to automation, still blinked its signal out into the night’s sky despite everything that had happened.
I stared downwards, scuffing my foot through the loose earth. ‘What d’you think?’
We’d reached the island on which the lighthouse perched and had lost no time in setting the anchor before going ashore. From there, it had been a short, but difficult, climb up to the small cluster of buildings which nestled at the top. Once there, I scanned the ground with the spotlight, illuminating evidence of a struggle by the door of the lighthouse itself, and marks that suggested someone had been forcibly dragged inside: it was the only trace we’d found that anyone had been on the island any time within the last few weeks.
Mitch knelt down and ran her hand across the dirt, before picking some up and rubbing it between her fingers. ‘This looks fresh.’
Suddenly, there was a loud bang; Mitch jumped to her feet as Daz and I took a step backwards. For a moment, there was silence and we stood stock still, eyes searching the darkness which surrounded us.
‘What the hell was that?’ Daz hissed, his eyes wide with fear.
‘I don’t know; I think it came from in there.’ I nodded towards the lighthouse door, training the light on it as I spoke.
‘D’you think there’s one of them in there?’ Daz whispered.
‘I can’t see how an infected could have made it up here; it’s too steep.’ Mitch whispered back. ’And no one’s lived here in years.‘
‘D’you think it’s him, then?’ Daz’s eyes were locked on the door.
‘I don’t know,’ I whispered to the others; then slightly louder, ‘Gordon?’
There was no response. I inched my way forward, and put a hand on the door; then an ear. I called out a second time, louder than before. ‘Gordon?’
Something hit the other side of the door hard enough to make it shudder; I leapt away. ‘Are you sure an infected couldn’t have made it up here?’
Mitch nodded. ‘I’m certain. They’d never make it up the rocks. If they could do that, they’d have been able to climb over the barricades in Tobermory, and that never happened.’
Daz glanced at me. ‘What if he’s been tied up an’ gagged or somethin’.’
‘Only one way to find out.’ I reached out, grabbing the handle and twisting it before pushing the door open. ‘Gordon, is that you?’
There was a snarl as an arm shot through the gap between the door and its frame, and a bloodstained hand fastened onto my wrist. Instinctively, I pulled the door back towards me as hard as I could, but despite using all my weight, I couldn’t get it closed again. I felt the infected tighten its grip and start to drag me towards the gap. I dropped the spotlight and tried to prize its fingers off, while my attacker did its best to wrench the door open with its other hand.
Suddenly, Daz was beside me, kicking out at the arm; I heard bones shatter, yet still the infected held on. Daz kicked again and again until finally I was released, but its arm remained sticking through the gap between the door and the frame as the infected fought to get it open from the inside. I held onto the handle with both hands and leaned back, doing my best to stop it succeeding.
‘When I say, let go of the door.’ I turned to see Mitch standing beside me, a large rock raised above her head.
I stared at her, incredulously. ‘You mean let it out?’
‘Yes. I should be able to get it as comes through the door.’
‘You sure?’ Daz had backed off and
was standing a few feet behind me. ‘Have you seen how fast they can move?’
Mitch shifted her grip on the rock. ‘I don’t see what other option we have: we can’t get the door closed again, not with its arm sticking out; we can’t stay here holding on to the door forever; and if we let go and try to run, then it’ll definitely get us.’
The door shuddered and shook as the infected tried to force its way through, and with my strength already fading, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer: Mitch’s plan, risky as it might be, was the only thing we could do.
‘Okay. On the count of three: one, two.’ I took a deep breath.
‘WAIT!’ Daz’s outcry almost caused Mitch to drop the rock.
‘What?’ I hissed.
‘What if there’s more than one in there?’ He hissed back.
‘Trust me, there’s only one.’ The door trembled as the infected clawed at the gap between the door and its frame.
Daz looked petrified. ‘How d’you know?’
‘Because if there were more, they’d have got the door open by now!’ I glanced at Mitch, she nodded. ‘Three!’
I let go of the handle and threw myself away from the door as a large, muscular man wrenched it open and bolted forward: mouth open; teeth bared. Mitch swung the rock, catching him on the shoulder and sending him sprawling to the ground. As he struggled to right himself, Mitch raised the rock again, this time finding her mark and I heard his skull crunch beneath its weight. Finally, he was still. Leaving the now bloodied rock where it had come to rest, she straightened up, breathing heavily. ‘I told you it would work.’
‘Just as well …’ I replied, relieved that Mitch’s plan hadn’t gone horribly wrong. I picked up the spotlight and ventured towards the door, wondering how an infected had got in there in the first place. I flashed the light around the small room at the base of the lighthouse, blood was splattered across the walls and the floor, while the air was fetid and smelt of death. Holding a hand over my mouth and nose, I stepped further inside. Behind the door, I spotted what, at first glance, I though was just a pile of old rags, but approaching it, I realised it was all that was left of a body. Swallowing hard, I knelt beside it and examined it closely: the infected had torn it apart and it was almost unrecognisable, but enough remained of the face that I could tell it was Gordon.
For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak Page 28