Mike pulled the boat so close to the shore that it was almost touching the sand and Jon slipped over the side. I held my breath and readied the rifle as he edged tentatively towards the container. Jon circled it once and then banged on the side. No noises came from within. I looked around nervously, but no infected appeared. I turned my attention back to Jon and watched as he peeked inside.
‘I don’t think anyone’s home.’ Jon yelled across to us. ‘I’m going in.’
With that he pulled the door open and disappeared inside. He’d been gone for about ten seconds when there was a shout and he shot back into the sunlight.
‘Mike, get ready to go as soon as he’s back on the boat.’
‘Way ahead of you.’ I glanced around to see Mike had his hand on the throttle, ready to jam it into reverse at a moment’s notice. When I looked back at the beach I saw Jon wasn’t running for his life, he was just jogging towards us.
‘It’s full of cans: boxes and boxes of cans. It’d last us for months.’
This was an unexpected bounty.
‘Any sign of anyone?’ I asked.
‘Nope. Just the cans.’
I pondered what to do for a moment before coming to a decision. ‘Okay, I’m coming to take a look.’
I leapt over the side and waded ashore. Jon threw back one of the doors, letting in just enough light to see what was inside. It was half-filled with cardboard boxes, some piled in neat stacks while others lay jumbled on the floor. The cardboard was damp but not soaking. I tore the nearest box open and pulled out a can of peaches. I opened another one. This time it was full of peas.
‘This might be just haul we need to carry us through till the garden boats are ready for their first harvest.’ I was speaking as much to myself as to Jon.
‘Hey, it looks like someone’s been sleeping in here.’
I went over to where Jon was standing. There was a blanket, a teddy bear and a bottle of water tucked into one of the corners on top of eight boxes laid out like a small bed.
‘Jon, see if you can get a few of these boxes into the boat. We’ll come back for the rest later. I’m going to take a look around.’
‘Okay, but be careful.’
I considered this. As long as I stayed on the beach, I always had the safety of the sea to turn to. The infected wouldn’t follow me into deep water and I could swim back to the boat.
I stepped back into the sunlight, my eyes taking a few second to readjust to the brightness. I searched the sand around the container. I could see both my footprints and Jon’s but there was another set, small and bare-footed, probably a child. There was no sign that anyone else had been there. I wondered what a child would be doing out here on their own, how they’d come to be alone on the beach, how they’d survived. I looked at the tideline. It was further up the beach than the container meaning the child had walked along the beach since the last high tide. I glanced at my watch. That had been only a few hours before.
I followed the footprints with my eyes. They snaked along the beach to the south. I walked a short way and could see the footprints continued, meandering between the water’s edge and the high-tide mark, until the shore turned a corner and disappeared from sight. I looked back. Mike had dropped an anchor off the back of the runabout and tied the bowline to the container. He was now wading ashore to take a box that Jon was carrying out from the container. Jimmy sat on the bow cradling the rifle. I searched the surrounding area. There was no sign of any infected, no sign of another living creature apart from the footprints. I followed them along the beach, watching them as they hopped, skipped, stepped on tippy-toes, turned and walked backwards. I got the impression the child who had made them was a girl. From their size, I guessed she was ten, maybe twelve at the most. However she’d got here, wherever she’d come from, I knew she wouldn’t last long on her own.
I reached the corner of the beach and rounded it expectantly, but all I found was the footprints continuing along the sand, still hopping and skipping playfully until they reached a rocky outcrop that jutted out into the sea fifty yards from where I stood. Here the footprints finally disappeared. The rocks were about twenty feet high and while the sides were steep they weren’t insurmountable. It would be a scramble rather than a climb to get to the top and it was one a child could easily manage. I wondered if she was even now just on the other side, waiting, lost and lonely.
I turned back to the runabout. Jon and Mike were loading more boxes onto it while Jimmy remained on watch. I knew I should go back and help them, but they seemed to have everything under control. I scanned the beach. There were still no signs of another single living thing. I knew if I followed the footprints any further I’d move out of sight of the others. I wouldn’t be able to see what was happening with them and they wouldn’t be able to see anything that happened to me. I knew that going back was the right thing to do, but the thought of what might happen, what would inevitably happen, to the child if I left her there alone was just too much.
I hovered there for a few minutes, looking towards the container and then to the rocks where the footprints disappeared and then back again. By now, the boys had finished loading the boat and were playing around on the sand. I smiled as I thought about how normal it seemed. I turned my attention back to the footprints. I could be at the rocks in a minute, maybe two at the most, and if I climbed up onto them I would be able to see far down the beach beyond. If the child was there I’d be able to see her. If not, at least I’d know for sure I hadn’t left her there, alone and just out of sight.
I made my decision and jogged to the base of the outcrop. I scrambled up and peered over the top. About seventy yards down the beach I could see a small boat with a rigid hull surrounded by inflatable pontoons, the type often used as a fast, nippy tender for larger yachts. It was lying on the shore, tipped onto one side near the high-tide line. This must have been where the girl was heading, what she came ashore in. But she couldn’t have driven it here herself. I looked further down the beach, but the sand was smooth, unruffled by feet since the last high tide. I climbed a bit higher to get a better view, but I could still see no evidence that anyone had walked along the beach, either to or from the stranded boat, since the last high tide.
I was just wondering where the girl had gone when I heard a sound that seemed to come from directly below me. I looked down and my heart leapt into my mouth. Beneath me, right at the base of the other side of the outcrop, two infected were crouching over the remains of a young girl, her long hair matted with blood. My approach had been silent and they didn’t realise I was there. I watched in horror as they picked at her open belly, pulling at her guts, feeding on her. The girl’s body twitched as one of them pulled out her heart and bit into it, blood oozing out as it did so. Her eyes stared, motionless, clouded, into the sky, a look of terror frozen on her face.
I felt the bile rise from my stomach and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick, but I knew there was nothing I could do for her. Instead, I tried to focus on getting back to the runabout in one piece. It wouldn’t be long before the infected sensed my presence and then they’d attack. The rocks were steep enough to make it difficult for them to clamber over, but it wouldn’t hold them for long and the greater the head start I had the better. I climbed backwards down the rocks, trying not to make a sound. Suddenly, I felt a bit of the rock break off under my foot and I fought to stay on the outcrop. I managed to hold myself on, but my heart was thumping and my legs shaking. I stopped, trying to calm myself before continuing my descent. A second later and I slipped again, this time falling the last twelve feet. As I landed I let out a yelp of pain. I heard the infected stir on the other side of the rocks.
They knew I was there.
I jumped to my feet and ran, keeping to the hard sand close to the water where running was easiest, blood pounding in my ears. When I reached the corner, I glanced back and saw one of the infected outlined against the sky on the top of the outcrop. I had enough of a head start to make it back to th
e boat before the infected got to me, but we wouldn’t want to linger. I looked ahead of me, expecting to see the others waiting in the runabout but it was empty and no one was in sight. I swore under my breath, my lungs bursting as I ran as fast as I could.
As I reached the container, I realised where they were. They were inside. I could hear them chatting and laughing. I looked back as I ran. The infected were closing fast. They’d be on us in seconds. The only thing working in our favour was that at least there were still only two of them. I had to make a split-second decision. I could run for the boat, but the others would be attacked without warning before I could get to where the rifle had been left leaning against the console. I chose, instead, to skid round the front of the container, pulling the door closed behind me, I slammed the lever home, locking us inside.
‘Hey, what’re you doing? We can’t see anything.’ Mike was indignant.
‘Shhh, keep quiet!’
‘But why?’
‘Quiet!’
Mike sensed the urgency in my voice and didn’t ask again. Then again, he didn’t need to. There was a loud bang on the side of the container, then another. The infected had arrived. I hoped I was right about them not being able to work out how to open the door. The banging intensified, becoming almost continuous. Both of the infected were attacking the container, trying to get to the prey they knew was there.
Inside it was dim, but not dark. There were small pinpricks of light here and there where the container had rusted through, enough for us to see each other and to get a sense of the infected moving around outside. I looked at the others. They were standing next to an open box. Mike and Jimmy were petrified, while Jon just stood there, a can held loosely in one hand, his Leatherman in the other. Jon put the can down on a nearby stack of boxes and looked at me, his face just visible in half-light.
‘What do we do now?’
I thought about our situation but I could see no way out. The runabout was only a few feet away but we couldn’t get to it without the infected getting us first. I listened as they continued to hammer on the doors. Frustrated, I picked up a can and flung it into the far corner of the container. It clattered against the metal and the banging stopped. I watched the pinpricks of light darken as the infected moved along the side of the container. I picked up another can and threw it into the same corner. The infected sprinted forward and started banging on the container where the can had struck it, trying to get to whatever was making the noise.
‘If you can keep them there, I could sneak out and get the rifle.’ Jon sounded nervous. ‘It is loaded, isn’t it?’
Jimmy nodded. With no more noise, the infected started to prowl round the container again, the pinpricks of light darkening and then lightening as they moved.
‘It’s pretty risky.’ I glanced at Jon, ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘What choice do we have?’
‘I guess.’ I ran through a number of possible plans, but there was only one that seemed even remotely feasible. ‘Mike, can you and Jimmy get up there?’ The boys nodded. ‘Take some tins and just bang on the side of the container as hard as you can. Jon, I’ll open the door and you run for it. I’ll shut it behind you, so whatever you do don’t come back. If you can’t get to the boat immediately, just get into the water and swim for it.’
‘Okay.’
Jimmy and Mike scrambled over the cases and once Jon and I were in position they started hammering on the corner of the container. The infected moved away from the door and I took a deep breath. ‘You ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’ Jon’s voice quivered slightly. I could tell he was scared but he was doing his best to hide it.
I put my hand on the lever, ready to open it. ‘On the count of three. One, Two, Thre ...’
Before I could get the last word out, something slammed against the door. I looked around. Judging by the shadows, there were still two infected near Jimmy and Mike, meaning this was a new one. Soon, we heard banging in another spot. There was no way Jon would make it to the runabout now. There were just too many of them.
I sat down on a stack of boxes. ‘What the hell were you all doing in here anyway? Why didn’t one of you keep watch?’ I was angry and scared.
‘It’s my fault, Rob.’ Jon sank down onto another pile of boxes and held his head in his hands. ‘We had all this food and I just wanted a taste. So did the others. We couldn’t resist it. There’s just so much of it. D’you know how long it’s been since I’ve had fruit? I never thought I’d miss it but my body craves it. I find myself dreaming about it. They’re really vivid dreams. I wake up and I can still taste it: peaches, always peaches. I don’t think I ever really ate peaches before, but now I can’t stop dreaming about them.’
I knew what Jon meant. I’d had the same dreams: about plums; about biting into crisp, moist apples; and once, rather strangely, about kiwi fruit, something I don’t think I’d ever eaten in my life. I couldn’t really blame them. It wasn’t really their fault, it was mine. I shouldn’t have followed the footprints. If I hadn’t, the infected would never have known we were here.
I pushed these thoughts from my head and tried to think of another way out, but with all of us trapped in the container, it was hopeless. Our only chance was if someone came looking for us. Yet, we were further south than we should have been and they wouldn’t know where to find us. Jon had a hand-held radio with him, but it wasn’t powerful enough to reach Hope Town. It probably wouldn’t even reach someone standing a few feet away from the container, since its ferrous metal construction would block the signal. We had no way of communicating with anyone, no way of calling for help.
As the afternoon wore on, the infected kept up their assault on the container, never pausing even for a second. As the tide came in, water slowly crept into the container and it started to rock gently backwards and forwards. I glanced at my watch and wondered how high it would reach. I saw the others climb up onto some of the boxes to get away from the incoming sea and I followed suit. I listened to the sound of the infected as their numbers increased again, the sounds of those attacking the container drawing more from throughout Little Harbour.
We looked at each other, not knowing quite what to say.
Finally, Jimmy spoke. ‘We’re not getting out of this are we?’ He looked from me to Jon and back.
I tried to think of something positive to say but nothing came to mind, so I just stared at the ground.
‘At least we won’t starve to death.’ Jon tried to laugh but couldn’t, the situation was just too serious. Mike put an arm round his brother, pulling him over and rubbing his head.
By high tide, the water was no more than a foot up the side of container. We wouldn’t drown, but it was also proving little hindrance to the infected. They continued hammering on the outside, the container keeping us safe and trapped at the same time. By nightfall, there were probably six or seven outside, enough that I was starting to lose track of them as individuals. They kept up their assault throughout the night. Maybe some left, maybe others arrived. I couldn’t tell. All I could hear was their furious attacks on the container. In the dark I heard Jimmy weeping and Mike trying to console him. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it seemed to calm Jimmy down and the crying stopped. I tried to get comfortable on the boxes but I couldn’t find the right position.
I thought about the day; how such a simple thing as trying to help a little girl had led to us becoming trapped with no hope of escape. Once again I was struck by how small, seemingly insignificant decisions could have big implications in this new world. I doubted the infected would ever be able to break in, but it wouldn’t matter. As long as they knew we were there, as long as they could sense we were alive, they wouldn’t leave. The sound of the banging on the container, their presence would drive us mad long before the food ran out.
I wondered about the little girl, where she’d come from, what had happened to the people she was with, how she’d come to be here all alone. If we’d only got here
a few hours earlier, we might have been able to save her and we might not have become trapped. I pushed these thoughts from my mind and, instead, wondered what the others would make of our failure to return.
Would they think we’d been lost? Or would they presume we’d got caught out by failing light and had anchored up for the night? When we didn’t return the following day, would they send out a search party? Or would they try to raise us on the radio and take our silence as a sign we were gone?
Whatever they thought, I doubted we’d ever get the chance to find out.
Chapter Sixteen
Specks of light started piercing the darkness inside the container again, telling us the sun was coming up. I looked round at the others. It was clear that they, like me, hadn’t slept. The infected continued their assault and we could now see them moving around again as their shadows passed across the holes in the container. I decided we needed to do something, to try something. We needed a plan. I tried to think of one but failed. I lay back and looked up at the top of the container. The specks of light there remained undimmed; the infected had been unable to climb on top. I wondered if this might be our salvation. If we could somehow get through the top of the container, maybe one of us could leap far enough into the water to get away from the infected. I doubted it, but the least we could do was give it a go.
I roused the others. ‘I think I might have a plan. It’s not much but it’s something.’
‘What is it?’ Jimmy looked eagerly at me, as did Mike.
‘There’re no infected on the roof. I don’t think they can get up there. If we can somehow make a hole in it, we might be able to escape.’
‘How?’ Jon was sceptical.
‘If we wait till high tide, one of us might be able to jump far enough into the water to get away from them. That’s all we’d need. They could get to the rifle.’
‘That’s your big idea?’ Mike sounded deflated.
For Those In Peril (Book 1): For Those In Peril On The Sea Page 22