by Jack Lewis
“Don’t know if you’re a gambler,” said Alistair, “But three versus twenty is what they call a long shot. And when you play against a long shot, the house tends to win.”
“And I like my liver,” said Casey.
Mel frowned. “Yeah, you told us.”
I walked over to my bed at the corner of the tent. This time I couldn’t fight it. I sat down on it and let the frame take my weight. I thought back to Shaun’s house. Back then, he’d told us that there were worse things than him around. At first I thought that he had meant the infected, but I realised now that he wasn’t talking about monsters. He was talking about another group of people.
“Someone go get Charlie and Ben,” I said. “We need everyone together.”
“There’s another thing we need to think about,” said Mel. “The bodies.”
“We don’t have time for a burial, sweetheart,” said Al.
“I don’t mean that, darling,” she said, putting as much scorn into the word as she could. “When we left camp, there were around fifty of us. Well, there aren’t fifty bodies out there. So where the hell is everyone else?”
The tent was silent. I couldn’t tell what everyone else was thinking, but I knew that my own thoughts were clouded dark. The camp was forever tainted, now. It would never be home for us.
Billy was the first to break the quiet.
“Like I said. The people on the boat, they’ve do some pretty dark shit. I don’t want to worry you, but I’ve gotta say this.”
“Just say it,” I told him.
“Well it’s like this,” said Billy. “And I’m sorry for breaking this to you. The fact is that the rest of your camp is on the boat, probably tied up somewhere. And the ones who died, well, they’re the lucky ones.”
I wanted nothing more than to lie back on the bed and close my eyes, but I knew that I couldn’t. The rain picked up outside and the sound as it hit the tent turned from patters into drum beats. I stood up. I shook away the tiredness.
The tent door opened and Charlie and Ben stepped in. Charlie’s hair was soaked from the walk across camp.
I looked at everyone in the tent. There was me, Al, Mel, Kendal. Billy and his two friends. Charlie and Ben. And then there was Lou. That left nine adults and a kid, but Lou was so out of it that she couldn’t be counted in our numbers, and I could hardly expect Ben to fight.
“There are eight of us,” I said. “Think that’s enough?”
“Enough for what?” said Billy.
“To find the boat, climb aboard and rip their goddamn hearts out of their chests.”
Chapter 25
Dark waves lapped against the sides of our rowboats. Under the night sky the sea looked like tarmac, sloshing from side to side in the chilly breeze. I zipped my coat up to my neck as far as it would go, making sure not to pinch my skin.
We had found the row boats at a small wooden pier ten miles east of camp. The wood of the pier was green in places from the spread of mold, and the boats were tied to thick wooden posts. We approached them cautiously, scanning the area around us in case anyone was waiting for us. The pier was deserted but just beyond it, anchored in the sea, was a large fishing boat. It was just where Billy said it would be.
“I feel sick,” said Ben.
He leaned back against the wood. There were three rowboats, but one had a hole in the side as if someone had kicked through it. That meant that me, Ben, Mel and Al were in one boat, and Billy, his two friends and Kendal were in the other.
The sea smelled of dead fish and salt. I shoved the tip of the oar into the water, pushed it forward and then pulled it back, feeling the resistance make my biceps tense. A spray of current splashed over the boat and stung me with cold. It was difficult to see where the black sky ended and the murky sea began, and it felt like the darkness could swallow us any time it chose. My arms began to ache just two hundred metres from shore.
“Put your back into it,” said Al.
“This isn’t the Oxford boat race,” I said. “We need to go slowly.”
“Is that because you don’t want them to see us, or because you’re tired?”
“A bit of both.”
Mel was behind me. She leaned forward and spoke into my ear.
“Think Charlie and Lou will be okay in camp?”
“We didn’t have much of a choice. We could hardly bring Lou on the boat with us, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be much good when it comes to boarding. This is going to be messy.”
“We don’t even know how many of them there are,” said Mel.
“I chatted to Billy about it,” said Al. “They watched them for a while. Thinks there’s less than a dozen.”
Mel didn’t seem convinced. “Doesn’t seem like probability is on our side.”
Al looked up at the boat. It was five hundred metres in front of us. It was hard to make out the ageing timber against the blackness around it.
“Imagine standing on deck now and looking out,” said Al. “All you’ll see is a shitload of water. A black pea soup. There’s no way they’ll know we’re coming until I stick my knife in their throats.”
The original plan had been to walk to the coast. From there, we were going to swim out and then silently board the ship. We’d kill the group on board, free the campers and then take the boat as our own. I don’t know what the hell we were thinking. Even sticking my fingers into the sea was enough to freeze them, so there was no way we could swim all the way from the shore. We had gotten lucky and found the rowboats moored at the dock.
Ben retched. I looked at him, and even with poor visibility I could see that his face was turning green.
“You shouldn’t have brought him,” said Mel.
“I couldn’t leave him. From now on, Ben stays with me.”
Ben leaned his head over the side of the boat and coughed. I couldn’t tell if he was actually being sick. As he wheezed and spewed over the side, a gust of wind hit the boat. The thin wooden vessel rocked on the waves, and the bow shot up a few feet out of the water.
I fell back, dropping the oars in front of me. Mel slammed against the portside. The whole boat tipped over to the right. Before I could do anything Ben lost his balance and fell over the side, slipping into the black water.
“Oh shit,” shouted Mel.
I dropped the oars and scrambled over to the side. For a few seconds, Ben was invisible amongst the lapping waves. My pulse fired. I scanned every inch of the water but saw nothing except the froth that hit the stern. I got ready to jump in. I knew the water would be ice cold, so I took a breath and steeled myself against the shock that was to come.
Ben’s head broke through the surface of the water. He spluttered and reached out for the boat, hitting nothing but water and splashing more of it into his face. He flapped around in panic as the sea lapped around him, dark as an oil slick.
I leaned over as far as I could. I felt the blood rush to my face as I strained, until finally I grabbed hold of his collar. Ignoring the ache in my arms, I started to pull him in. I leaned forward so much over the side that I thought I was going to fall in. I felt a strong hand grip the back of my jeans and hold me steady. With a few more heaves, I dragged the soaking boy on board.
Bean lay on his back on the floor. I turned him onto his side. He coughed out a mouthful of salt water and then wheezed a few times. Al moved away from me.
“That’s the last time I grab your arse,” he said to me. Then he looked at Ben. “So don’t be pulling this stunt again, lad.”
I pulled Ben’s soaking jumper and t-shirt over his head. His skin was goose pimpled, and a shiver ran through him like an earthquake tremor. I unzipped my coat, took it off and forced Ben’s arms through the sleeves. Even wrapped in a man-sized coat, his teeth still chattered. Al took off his own coat and did the same until Ben was drowned in a bundle of clothes.
“We need to get him back to shore as soon as this is done,” said Mel.
Across from us, Billy stood up in his boat. He held his hand in t
he air as if to ask if anything was wrong. I held up my thumb. We were only a hundred metres away from the fishing boat now, and I knew that we had to see this through.
A light flickered on in the ship in front of us. It was joined by another, and then a third. Beams of light shot from down and scanned across the sea, sweeping from left to right. One of them went right over us in an arc. I held my breath, as if doing so would keep the light away.
“They must have ears like a dog’s” said Al.
Another beam swept over Billy’s boat. It drifted over their heads and then into the darkness beyond them. It started to curve back, finally settling on them and illuminating Billy, his friends and Kendal in a yellow ray of light.
Sounds came from the fishing boat, but I couldn’t hear them properly over the slurping sea. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw something move. The beam of light stayed trained on Billy. It was soon joined by two more until their boat was fixed under a harsh glow, like a prisoner under the beam of a watchtower.
Billy shouted something. His friend Alistair rowed harder, but it seemed like the boat was stuck in treacle and couldn’t manage more than a few feet per minute.
A shot rang out louder than the waves and the breeze, and then two more followed it. My eyes adjusted more, and I made out the dim figure of a man on the boat. He leaned over the side, a rifle propped against his shoulder.
I looked at Billy. When I saw that none of them seemed to have been hit, I felt like luck might have been with us for once. Then Billy’s boat began to lurch forward. The bow dipped into the water, going further and further into the black sea until half the vessel had disappeared.
“They’re taking on water,” said Al. “Clever bastards shot the boat, not the people.”
I hadn’t rowed in minutes, but the sea had drifted us toward the boat so that we were only fifty metres away. A rope ladder was tied to the side of it. The wind picked it up in its breeze and then slammed it back against the portside.
Billy, Casey, Alistair and Kendal jumped off their boat and into the sea. The wooden vessel tipped further forward, finally showing us its stern as if waving a last goodbye. Billy and the rest of them swam toward the ship.
“We better meet them at the side,” said Mel.
I rowed toward the portside of the fishing ship. When we hit against the wood, Al and Mel gripped hold of it and helped guide the rowboat toward the rope ladder. I reached forward and grabbed it and held us steady. We waited there as the others swam through the cold waters.
We heard commotion above us. I couldn’t tell what was being said, but it didn’t matter. The group on the ship were in a state of alarm, and that was the last thing we needed.
“May as well have pressed the doorbell,” said Mel.
A wave hit the side of the rowboat and salt water splashed over. It soaked over my shoes and into my socks, freezing my feet. Without my coat I felt a chill spread over my limbs.
“For all they know,” I said, “There was only one boat. Could be that they didn’t see us. I’ll climb up first, and the rest of you follow me.”
“I better go first,” said Mel. “No offence, Kyle, but I’m considerably more agile than you. Subtlety isn’t exactly your forte.”
“Fine. But we need to do this now. Here’s Billy.”
Billy reached the side of the boat. Al grabbed him and heaved him aboard. Billy sat against the side and shivered. Kendal followed shortly after, refusing Al’s outstretched arms and dragging herself on board. The vessel swayed under the weight.
Billy looked out into the sea.
“Come on…Come on...,” he said.
We waited for his friends, but there was nothing but darkness in front of us. Cold swept through me and started to lock my arms and legs in place. Billy gripped hold of the side of the boat. His shoulders trembled, but he didn’t complain. He stared out into the night, tapping against the wood and watching every movement of the sea in case it was Casey or Alistair. After two more minutes, it was clear his friends wouldn’t be coming.
“Billy,” I said. I put my hand on his shoulder.
He shook me off. “They’ll make it.”
“I think they’ve drowned,” said Al, in a grave voice.
“I’m sorry Billy,” I said. “But we need to do this now. If we wait any longer, I’m not going to be able to move.”
Billy nodded. He gave one last look into the water beyond us, and then his shoulders shook as a tremor ran through him. He looked up at the rope. Before any of us could react, Billy grabbed hold of the first rung and started climbing up, his anger fuelling him as he scaled the ladder.
Chapter 26
Mel was the second person to reach the top. By the time I climbed the ladder and pulled myself onto the deck, the boat was already in chaos. Panicked voices cut across the night time winds, and from dark places around me people ran out with weapons in their hands.
I put my feet down on the deck. There was a body on the floor to my left, a man with his skull caved in. I knew from the wound that it had cracked under the weight of Billy’s hammer. Blood leaked out and spread across the floor, running in a straight line toward the stern.
The ship wasn’t large. There was a cabin at the bow, which I guessed housed the navigation equipment and hopefully a door which gave access to below levels. The deck was in front of me, empty save for wooden pallets which were covered in tarpaulin and secured by ropes. A light shone out from the cabin wall, the bulb inside spinning in circles so that beams of red light swept all over the deck.
Someone screamed. Billy stooped over the body of a woman. She had a bread knife in her right hand. She strained to stab it toward Billy, but he pressed his knee into her arm so that she couldn’t move. He raised his hammer and brought it down on her head. Her arm went limp and her knife clattered to the floor.
A wave of sickness washed through me. For a second, I wondered what we were doing. Killing people wasn’t the same as taking care of the infected. When you killed a person, you saw the light dim in their eyes and you knew that your actions had significance.
Then I remembered who these people were and what they had done. I thought about the bodies that we found at camp, about Reggie’s son and all the others who had been murdered and then butchered. Any trace of guilt evaporated.
Boots hit the floor behind me. I turned and saw Kendal running across deck, and a few seconds later came Al. Ben was on his back, his hands clinging to the big man’s neck. To our left Mel gave a shout and swung her cleaver at a man who ran at her.
Al set Ben down on the deck.
“Stay here,” he told the boy. “Don’t move for anything. Not until the fighting stops.”
I held my knife in my hand. I took a breath and I readied myself. With Al and Kendal behind me, I ran into the fight.
Men and women screamed. I felt my knife sink into flesh, and forced myself not to think about it when warm blood splattered my face. It seemed like the fight lasted hours, though in reality only minutes went by as people ran at us from all sides, meeting their ends at the blades of cleavers and knives, or the hard end of Billy’s hammer.
We stabbed and slashed and shouted, and it seemed like it would never end. My knife was coated dark crimson, my arms ached, and my senses were so wired that I hacked at everyone who came close.
Finally, with the smell of blood mixing with the salt in the air, the shouting stopped. A man on the deck, blood trickling from his neck, groaned, and then was quiet. Billy sank to the floor, and Mel stood and rubbed her hand over her face.
Nothing moved. We waited and waited but there were no survivors of the battle on their side. Mel’s cleaver made a clanging side as she dropped it, and I realised it was the first time in days that she hadn’t held it.
Ben ran over to me and hugged my legs and I felt like I was going to drop to the floor. It didn’t matter anymore, because the deck was silent. Everything was still, save the ship as it rocked gently on the tide.
Chapter 27
It took days for the chill to leave me after the fight. I hacked up phlegm and coughed my way through the hours. All around me people made preparations to leave. I’d wanted to help, but Mel insisted that I get some sleep.
Before that, I had helped them dismantle the tents and carry them away from camp and toward the coast. Not all the survivors could pitch in. Some were so shaken from what had happened that they did nothing except sit with their knees tucked against their chest.
One morning I woke to sunlight straining against the side of my tent. I got out of my camp bed and stood up. I stretched my arms and felt my joints crack, and then I got dressed.
When I unzipped the tent and stepped outside I was hit by hot sunrays. They were the first that we had seen in months, and were a welcome change in weather. The view from the mouth of my tent was different, too. Rather than trodden mud and wide open fields, the view now was of the coastline, with the water rolling gently over the rocks. Beyond them, anchored closer to shore, was the fishing ship. It was ours now.