‘At the ice cream stand we joined the queue and chatted to the others in the line. Everyone seemed to be keen to see what Cuba was really like. We always heard so much from the news, but we could never trust how much was influenced by politics. We got the ice creams just as the ferry was coming into the dock and headed back down the line of cars. Everywhere people were getting back into their cars and starting their engines, but even over all that noise we could hear this odd sound coming from the bowels of the ferry. It was like the wind blowing through the rigging of a sailboat, all moaning and clanking. It was eerie. We looked at each other and Mark said it sounded like they had truckloads of cattle on board.
‘He was right, it did sound like a large number of cows enclosed in a tight space, all lowing and pushing against each other. I looked up at the bridge. None of the crew seemed to think there was anything strange going on and they were moving around as normal, getting the ship ready to dock. That put my mind at ease.
‘As the ferry came up to the dock, its bow raised up and the ramp started to come down. I watched as the crew threw the first of the mooring ropes to waiting dockers and they started hauling it over to one of the bollards on the quay. It all seemed so normal.’ I saw Matt eying the bottle of whisky. I poured him another glass and he drank it down in one go.
‘That’s when it happened. The ramp was barely half-way down when the first person came over the top and fell into the water. I looked up at the crew. They seemed to be oblivious to whatever was happening. The ramp came down further and more and more people started coming up and over the edge. Some fell in the water, others fell onto the concrete of the dock. Of those who landed on the quay, some managed to stagger back to their feet. People started getting out of their cars, going forward to try to help them. As they got to the people from the ferry, they were set upon and dragged to the ground.
‘Mark and I dropped the ice creams and ran as fast as we could through the lines of cars, back to my family and our friends. We knew something was wrong, but we still didn’t know what. We were slowed by people getting out of their cars, craning their necks as they tried to see what was going on. The ramp finally touched down, crushing some of those who had fallen off, and suddenly we could see what was on board, what we were running towards: a mass of people, all pushing and shoving to get out.
‘Except they weren’t acting like people, they were acting like animals. Some were covered in blood, others had torn clothes. Now the ramp was down they surged as one onto the dock. As they moved, they let out an immense roar that drowned out every other sound. It was only then that the crew realised something was wrong and they started to crowd the windows of the bridge, pointing down towards the dock. The people in the cars at the front of the queue panicked, not quite understanding what was going on. Some leapt from their cars and ran; others jumped in and locked the doors. Neither tactic did much good. The mass of people streaming from the ferry were soon upon them, smashing through car windows to get at the people inside, or pulling the fleeing ones to the ground as they ripped them apart.’ Matt went silent for a few seconds. I looked round the cockpit, the others were listening intently.
‘Mark was faster than me and I could see that he’d reached our cars. He was desperately trying to get everyone out. I saw him pull my six-year-old daughter from our car and fling her over his shoulder. He grabbed the hand of my ten year old, and started running. My wife was right behind him, holding onto our two year old. I stopped and watched, horror-stricken, as my wife was overtaken by the mass of people. The last I saw of her was when my baby was pulled from her arms and torn in two. As she turned to see what happened she ran into an open car door and disappeared from sight. Mark didn’t last much longer, weighed down as he was by two children. I was close enough to hear my daughters screaming as the swarm descended upon them. Mark tried to stay on his feet, holding my six year old high in the air to keep her away from the people now surrounding him.
‘I watched as clawing hands pulled at Mark in a desperate attempt to reach the screaming child — my child — and then they were gone.’ Matt’s voice wavered.
‘I stood rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do. Someone bumped into me and it brought me back to my senses. The mass of people were now almost on me and ahead of me the way was blocked by cars and others trying to flee. I turned and instead of running with them, I clambered onto the nearest car. This gave me enough height that I could leap onto the chain-link fence separating the dock from the water. I climbed upwards just as the rampaging crowd reached me. I felt some of them trying to grab me as they passed, but somehow I made it to the top without any of them getting me, and I flung myself into the water thirty feet below. Once I surfaced, I swam to a dinghy that was tied up to one of the metal ladders that stretched from the water up to the quayside.
‘I huddled there, shaking and crying, reliving what had just happened over and over again. I’d lost everyone I cared about and I just couldn’t accept it, not the way it had happened. I waited for someone to come and rescue me, for the nightmare to end, but it didn’t. All around I could hear the terrified screams of people being attacked. Around midnight, I heard the first explosion and saw the flames starting to reach up into the air. By morning, Miami was hidden by smoke.
‘I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to find some way out. I untied the dinghy and started the little outboard engine. I motored around until I found a small sail boat that was well-equipped and that had the keys on it. I started it up and headed out to sea. As I left, I looked over my shoulder at the burning city, and I knew Miami was finished.
‘Once I was far enough out, I started to wonder what I should do, where I should go. I still didn’t really know what had happened, or why the crowd from the ferry had started attacking everyone. I turned on the FM radio to get some news. Eventually, I found a station that was still broadcasting and listened with disbelief. The official line was that a riot had broken out in Miami and that the National Guard had been sent in to restore order; that there was nothing to worry about. Unofficially, everyone was panicking. You could hear it in the voices of the reporters, the politicians, the soldiers … of anyone they spoke to. Contact had been lost with Cuba, the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Jamaica and the rest the West Indies. There were reports of riots and attacks in Mexico and in Canada. In the US, the trouble was spreading from the inner cities, and outbreaks of violence were flaring up in Key West, Fort Lauderdale and Tampa.
‘I sat listening to the radio all that day, and the night that followed, drifting with the tides and the currents. I kept expecting things to get better, but they didn’t, they just got worse. By the next morning, people were beginning to talk about the disease, what they were calling the “Haitian rabies virus”, and how it could be causing people to attack each other for no apparent reason. And they were wondering how it could be spreading so fast. By the next evening, the answer was apparent; it was passing from person to person.
‘The disease overwhelmed most people pretty much instantly, and they turned on anyone and everyone around them. There were reports of children savaging their grandparents, of parents attacking their kids. Yet, this wasn’t true for everyone, and some managed to fight off the virus for minutes, hours, even a whole day in a few cases. Though they were infected, they could seem quite normal but, in the end, they too would turn, attacking and infecting others. This led to outbreaks flaring up all over the place, as people fled Miami by any means possible. By the time the authorities realised this and tried to quarantine Florida, there were already reports of mass outbreaks in every major urban area on the eastern seaboard, and along the Gulf coast. The government, the hospitals, the police, the army, none of them could cope, and everything just fell apart. By the next morning, there were reports of outbreaks all over the world, in London, Hong Kong, Rio.’
I glanced at CJ, trying to gauge how she’d taken the mention of London. I saw her eyes glisten and for a moment I thought she was going to cry, but she managed to keep her
composure.
‘People fleeing from the US had carried the disease across the world, thanks to the wonders of modern air travel. Then the radio station I was listening to stopped. I found another one, but it stopped too after a few hours. By the end of the third day, the last station went quiet and all I could pick up was static.
‘I still didn’t know what to do. I’d lost everyone I loved, everyone I cared about and I was stuck on a small boat in the middle of the ocean, just drifting around. Whoever had owned the boat before I took it had kept it very well-stocked with liquor, so that night I opened a bottle of whisky and crawled inside, hoping I’d never wake up. But I did wake up. At first, I just felt sick and couldn’t work out why. Then I remembered getting very, very drunk. Then I remembered why I’d got so drunk. I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried for hours, rocking back and forward on the bunk where I’d slept. I didn’t stop until I heard someone calling out. I stumbled up onto the deck and saw other sail boats around me. A man on the closest one was calling to me and telling me to turn my VHF radio to channel sixteen. I did so and for the first time in four days I spoke to someone.
‘The man told me they were heading east to the Bahamas. He figured they’d be able to find somewhere safe to hole up amongst the islands. I was welcome to go along with them, the more the merrier as far as he was concerned. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went along with them. I’d sailed in my younger days and as I looked around it started coming back to me.
‘We’d crossed the Gulf Stream by the next morning and were on to Little Bahama Bank. The day was near-perfect, the type you dreamed about; blue skies, not a cloud on the horizon. A gentle breeze pushed us along, our little gathering of boats spread out over several miles of sea. There were even dolphins bow-riding the boats and travelling along with us. Some were so close I could hear them whistling and see the spots on their backs. It all looked so normal, yet it felt so wrong. I kept thinking how could the world go on pretending nothing had happened when everyone I cared about was dead?
‘That night I got separated from the others. My batteries had gone flat from listening to the radio for all that time without running the engine to recharge them, so I couldn’t call them up. I had no charts or anything, so I couldn’t hope to follow them. That was when I pulled in here and I’ve been waiting to see if they’ll come back ever since. I don’t think they will. It’s been over a week now, maybe longer. I’m not too sure really. I’ve kind of lost track of time. I’ve been living off canned food that was already on the boat, but I ran out of that yesterday. I’d just decided what I was going to do when you guys turned up.’
Matt looked longingly at the whisky bottle. I gave him another shot.
‘Do you know where they were heading?’ I looked over at Matt, his eyes were starting to glaze over.
‘I don’t know. I think someone said something about a lighthouse, somewhere soush of here ...’ Matt’s speech was starting to slur and I could tell he was drifting off again. A few seconds later, and I could see he was back on the dock, reliving the last moments with his family over and over again.
We left Matt with his memories and the bottle of whisky, and went inside.
‘What do you think?’ Jon was talking in a low voice so Matt wouldn’t hear him.
‘He didn’t really tell us anything we didn’t already know.’ I’d hoped Matt might have known something that could provide a glimmer of hope, but all he’d done was confirm just how bad the situation was.
‘At least we know there are other survivors out there,’ Mike piped up.
‘I wish Matt knew where they were heading. We really need to find them. I’m not too sure how long we can last if we can’t find other people.’ By the time I realised what I’d said, it was too late.
The others looked shocked. I’d been thinking this for a while but it was the first time I’d said it out loud.
‘What d’you mean?’ CJ was staring at me, her eyes wide open.
‘Nothing, it was just a slip of the tongue.’
‘No it wasn’t,’ CJ snapped angrily. ‘What did you mean?’
I thought about being honest, but then I figured it would be better for them not to know the conclusion I’d come to about our long-term survival. ‘All I meant was that I think our chances would be better if there were more of us.’
CJ glared at me and I could tell she knew I was lying. ‘We’d better find them then, hadn’t we?’
‘How?’ I didn’t like being negative, but I also felt it was important to be realistic. ‘It’s a big ocean out there. We’d have to be very lucky to run into them by chance, and we don’t know where they were going.’
‘There can’t be that many lighthouses around here, can there?’
‘What?’
‘Matt said they were heading for somewhere with a lighthouse.’ CJ glanced round at the rest of us. ‘Lighthouses aren’t that common, are they? There can’t be that many around here.’
‘That’s a good point.’ Maybe this was the glimmer I’d been looking for. I pulled out the chart Bill had annotated previously and spread it before us. Together we pored over it, just as we’d done when we were anchored off Miami.
‘There’s a lighthouse,’ Jimmy pointed to the southern end of Great Abaco.
‘That’s Hole-in-the-Wall. There’s no one there, not anymore,’ Jon quickly answered.
‘How d’you know?’ Jimmy seemed indignant.
‘Trust me. We know.’ Jon looked at the chart more closely. ‘Anyway, they wouldn’t have been heading there. There’s no safe anchorage.’
‘What about there?’ This time Jimmy pointed to where another lighthouse was marked on the chart. It was at the north end of an island called Elbow Cay, about sixty miles to our south-east.
I considered its position. Elbow Cay was part of a chain of islands separated from the main island by a shallow, sheltered sea. It seemed a much more likely destination for the other survivors.
‘That’s a definite possibility.’ I looked around. ‘Can anyone see any others?’
We searched the chart for another ten minutes but these were the only lighthouses we could find that were even close to our current position. If Matt was right, that the others were heading for somewhere with a lighthouse, it had to be Elbow Cay.
‘Hey,’ CJ was closely examining the chart, ‘have you seen what it’s called?
‘No, what?’
‘It’s called Hope Town. That’s gotta be a good sign.’
‘Yeah, right. Like you can always judge a place by its name.’
I looked up. CJ was staring at Jon and I could see they were about to have a go at each other again. I felt I needed to diffuse the situation.
‘Given the distance, we could be there in a couple of days. What do you think? Should we go check it out?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I guess.’ Mike seemed less keen than Jon and CJ, and Jimmy just shrugged, but neither of them objected. The decision was made; we were finally heading towards somewhere rather than running away. It gave us a sense of purpose, something we badly needed, especially after losing Bill.
***
The next morning I rose early. The whisky bottle on the cockpit table was empty and Matt was gone. I looked across to his boat, expecting the rubber dinghy to be tied up alongside it, but it wasn’t there. I scanned the horizon with the binocular, a sense of unease growing in the pit of my stomach. In making Matt relive the nightmare he’d been through, had I pushed him too far? Eventually, I found his dinghy pulled up on the beach. Beside it was a patch of darkly-stained and churned-up sand. There was no one in sight and even Bob was gone. I figured the guilt of surviving when everyone else he cared about had died had finally got to Matt, and he’d worked up the courage to end it all.
I should have been shocked, but I wasn’t. I knew how he felt because I felt the same way. I’d been the first one to suggest going over the side when we were stuck on the sandbank, but it had been Bill w
ho had gone, and it was Bill who’d died. Something as small and insignificant as stepping on a shard of broken crockery had saved my life. It seemed so arbitrary. There seemed no rhyme nor reason as to who survived in this new world and who didn’t; it was just blind luck. It wasn’t the way I’d have chosen to go, but I could understand why Matt had done it. If it hadn’t been for the others, I’d probably have done something similar. The only reason I kept going was because I’d promised Bill I’d help him look after them; that I knew they’d stand even less of a chance without me. Matt had had no one, but at least I had the others. It was then I realised I needed them as much as they needed me.
As I looked out at the beach I came to a decision. I pulled up the anchor and set the sails. We were a good ten miles south by the time the others were up. When they asked about Matt I said I’d told him where we were heading and how to get there, and that he would follow later when he was ready.
There was no need for them to know the truth.
Chapter Seven
The winds were light and blowing from the west, creating near perfect sailing conditions, and we made good speed, pushing through the water at about four knots. I took the cruising guide out on deck and flicked lazily through it as I sat in the cockpit. CJ was at the helm while Jon busied himself with some fishing lines, getting ready to trail them out behind us. He’d brought the gear on board in South Africa but had never got round to using it during the crossing. Now it would hopefully provide us with plenty of fish; something that would become our main source of food. Mike and Jimmy sat up front, one on each bow, dangling their legs over the side. As the catamaran cut through the water, the bows rose and fell, dipping their feet into the refreshingly cool waters.
For Those In Peril (Book 1): For Those In Peril On The Sea Page 10