Or, maybe, they would buy her story because the virus had been released in other places too. The radio said as much, and if that were the case then what was awaiting her back on land? She was probably infected too, and her husband’s company might even have been responsible for letting the sickness out. The sample had cracked…
Emily’s mother had been right. She’d always said she would amount to nothing. Sure, she might have had it all for a while, but she’d been kidding herself. It had all gone to Hell in an instant. She was either sick, dying, or heading back to the loony bin.
The utter darkness outside matched her mood, and if not for memory, there would be no suggestion that she were standing on a luxury yacht with her name on it. Her head buzzed as though it were full of bees, and her skin felt numb. Salt clung to every inch of her. She barely felt human.
Was this strange feeling she was experiencing the sickness? Was some tiny, sinister microbe swimming around her bloodstream right now, snaking through her vital organs with its nasty little edges? Would she end up like her two dead husbands, broken and bleeding?
She tried arguing with her own mind, offering herself a little solace and hope, but she could find nothing. The opaque cloud engulfing her wasn’t just inextinguishable, but comforting also. It was a soft blanket wrapped around her that she didn’t want to fight. Could she just slump to the ground right now and leave her inert body, her shattered mind, in the hands of fate? Oh, to just give up.
No, she had to stay strong. It was time to take control of her life.
Time to stop being a passenger in her own life.
It felt right to say goodbye to Ross, even though the truth was he had been gone the moment this had all started. Still, he was her husband, and she would miss him. It would do no good looking under his blanket, for it was not how she wanted to remember him, but she knelt down and placed a hand on his middle. There was no warmth, but neither was there cold.
‘Thank you for giving me another shot at life, Ross, after I thought there was nothing but a sucking black hole waiting for me. You weren’t perfect, but neither was I. We both knew what we were getting into, I suppose. I loved you, and I think you loved me.’ She was about to cry but stopped herself. She needed to stay in control. ‘I feel like I’m living in a horrible movie, but I’ve realised tonight that life isn’t like the movies. Things don’t end the way they’re supposed to. They do end though. I’m going to make a decision, be in control. For once in my life I am going to take action.’
Emily got up and went over to the edge of the deck. For once in her life, she was certain of what she was doing. No doubts in her mind as she climbed up and stepped over the top rail. She would never go back to the clinic. Would not allow them to put her in prison. This wasn’t her fault.
But that didn’t change what they would do to her.
The wind buffeted Emily’s bare skin. The salt stung her eyes.
The black, endless Ocean waited for her, and she saw light.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The light was so glaring that it made Emily’s eyes throb. She stepped down from the railing and shielded her face. Her ears picked up the sound of parting water, something large cutting through the waves.
She heard an engine.
‘THIS IS THE SPANISH COAST GUARD,’ came an accented voice, projected through some kind of loudspeaker. ‘WE HAVE RECEIVED A DISTRESS CALL FROM THIS LOCATION.’
Still struggling to see against the tremendous glare, Emily waved her free hand. All thoughts of suicide were swatted aside now that someone in authority had arrived. Emily went right back to giving herself over to another’s command. Part of her didn’t mind. It was comfortable, like slipping into a warm bath.
The ship came closer and dimmed its light. Emily could finally lower her arm and see. At least six Spanish sailors glanced over at her from the other deck, all of them gruff, serious looking men.
It took them only a few moments to moor their ship to the EMILY-DEVINE, and as soon as they had, two of the crewmen hopped aboard and took a look around. They each carried two-handed guns. One was a small, boxy man with a long nose. The other had dark eyes, dark-hair, and a dark expression.
Emily followed them around like a lost puppy, trying to explain the whole time. ‘My husband was sick. He had the virus that has got loose on the mainland. I heard the reports on the radio. When he lost his mind and attacked me, there was an accident.’
The whole time the two crewmen said nothing. They examined Ross’s decapitated body beneath the blanket with some concern, and gave her several glances of suspicion. When they then found Alex’s body, they raised their weapons at her.
‘I didn’t do any of this,’ she said, whipping her hands up above her head. ‘They were both sick. I was just trying to defend myself.’
Of the two, the crewman with darker features lowered his weapon and nodded. Speaking in fluent English, he said, ‘Okay, ma’am. We understand. Just come with us, please.’
‘What about the virus? Is it bad? How many people are infected?’
‘Please, ma’am. We will talk about it more once we are onboard the ship.’
Reluctantly, but seeing no other option, Emily went with the two sailors and allowed herself to be corralled onto the Coast Guard ship. The assembled crew watched her intently as she was led into the wheelhouse. There they sat her down at a metal desk. Outside she heard the sound of winches being fastened and tightened to the EMILY-DIVINE. They were going to tow the other vessels to land. She was finally going to get off the water and out of this nightmare.
‘Which man is Mr Alex Draper?’ asked the dark-eyed man sitting opposite her.
‘Alex is the one on the sailboat,’ she explained.
‘The one who was stabbed in the neck?’
She flustered for a moment, realising how insane it sounded when spoken aloud. ‘Yes, I had to defend myself when he attacked me.’
‘Why did he attack you? It was he who contacted the Coast Guard to come and help you. He told us you and your husband had some sort of fight, and that your husband got injured.’
She shook her head. ‘No, no, he was sick. My husband was sick. Alex told me he informed you of all this. He spoke to you before he even reached me, right?’
The dark man nodded. ‘Yes, and he spoke to us again after he arrived to help you. He informed us that you thought your husband was a zombie. He said you shot him with a flare and would have hit Mr Draper too if he hadn’t ducked.’
‘What? When did he…? I was trying to save Alex. My husband was attacking him.’
The man nodded as if he understood. ‘Mr Draper said you were upset.’
‘Of course I was upset. My husband had just died!’
‘Lost his head, correct?’
She folded her arms tightly around herself. These callous Spaniards had not even got a blanket for her yet. ‘Yes! He was badly hurt, but he wouldn’t stop attacking me. The anchor tore him up badly, but he was trying to murder Alex, so I shot him with a flare gun, and that’s when his head fell off.’
‘Okay, ma’am, I understand.’
‘Do you?’
The man turned to one of his colleagues standing in the doorway. The two men chatted briefly in Spanish, and then the one in the doorway left. The dark man turned back to her. ‘We will leave now and talk more about this back on land.’
‘But what about the virus? What if I have it?’
The man stood up. ‘We will talk more later. For now, my men will find you something warm and get you something to eat.’
Emily flopped back in her chair. The thought of food and warmth was too much to resist. Things would be okay, she was sure of it. She’d told her story, and no one had accused her of lying, which was a good sign, right? She just hoped things were over with now. It would be impossible to withstand any more without losing her mind.
***
They were back on land in just under two hours. From inside the small cabin, Emily couldn’t tell how fast they had been tra
velling, but the straining sound of the engines suggested ambling. The Coast Guard ship had needed to tow the EMILY-DEVINE and Alex’s sailboat at the same time.
During the trip, the Spanish sailors had brought her a steaming mug of hot coffee and a cheese sandwich. It was Spanish cheese, tarter than the cheddar she was used to. When they finally pulled into dock, she was upset to see that they were on the continent and not back home in England. She had expected their destination to be Spain, but a small part of her had hoped they would drop her home and have everything conducted there. It was now firmly the middle of the night, and she had to watch her footing every step as they led her from the darkness of the dock into the brightness of a large terminal. She wondered if they had taken her to Bilbao or some other coastal city, and it made her think of all the good times she had spent with Ross on the fringes of Spain and Portugal. They had so many memories, and it was heart breaking knowing that there would be no more.
After keeping her locked inside an empty staff lounge for almost an hour, they then led her to a small office where a doctor came and checked on her. He took her blood pressure and temperature, and checked her joints and limbs for pain. Emily was happy to oblige.
‘What are the first symptoms?’ she asked. ‘When will I know if I have it?’
The doctor was Spanish and seemed to have a hard time understanding her. When it looked like he was about to try and have a conversation with him, the Coast Guard captain entered and ushered him out of the room, before sitting down opposite her.
‘Hello again,’ said Emily.
‘Hello, Mrs Tyler. I have contacted the British embassy for you and someone is on their way. You do not have to speak to me until then, if you do not wish.’
‘I have nothing to hide. I just want to help.’
The man smiled at her, and she wondered why he wasn’t more wary. She could be sick with the disease. Wasn’t it contagious?
‘I have some questions for you, if you don’t mind, Mrs Tyler.’
‘Of course.’
‘You take medication, yes?’
She was surprised by the question. ‘Well, yes. I take an anti-depressant for my nerves.’
‘Your nerves?’
‘Yes, I have problems coping some time.’
‘I understand. Because of your first husband, yes?’
She shifted in her seat. ‘It started with him, I suppose. He abused me.’
‘That is a terrible thing. I am sorry that you went through that. You killed him, yes?’
‘In self-defence.’
‘Of course. What happened after?’
‘What do you mean?’
The captain leaned forward across the desk and all of a sudden seemed less kind. ‘You went to hospital, yes?’
‘Yes. I had a nervous breakdown.’
‘I understand.’
‘No, you don’t,’ she snapped. ‘Unless you’ve ever had a nervous breakdown, you do not understand.’
The captain was unapologetic. ‘What happened with your present husband, Mrs Tyler? He was a rich man, yes? A big man in England? We checked the registration of your yacht. We know all about your husband.’
‘He was a big man everywhere,’ she corrected him, ‘but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.’
‘Did you kill him?’
‘No! It was an accident.’
‘You shot him with a flare gun by accident?’
‘Well, no, but I had no choice.’
‘I understand. What happened between you and Mr Draper? How did he die?’
‘He caught the virus after my husband bit him. It took a while, but he got sick too. He attacked me and I had to defend myself.’
‘You had to stab him in the neck?’
‘Well, no, but in the heat of the moment…’
‘I understand.’
‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘I think you have had a hard time with men.’
‘That’s an understatement.’
‘I believe that your first husband did some bad things. Things that left you a very sad lady.’
She felt the tears come and nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘I understand why you snapped, Mrs Tyler. You probably did not even know what you were doing?’
‘What?’ She leapt up out of her chair, but the captain barked at her to sit back down. True to form, she did what the man told her.
‘No one is blaming you here, Mrs Tyler. We just want to understand what happened.’
‘I told you. My husband was sick. He had the virus.’
‘When did you last take your pills?’
‘I don’t remember. Last night, probably. None of this matters. Do I have the virus? What did the doctor say?’
The captain tilted his head and looked at her curiously. ‘What virus, Mrs Tyler?’
‘The… the virus that has broken out. I heard it on the radio, on the news.’
‘Mrs Tyler, there is no virus. I do not know what news you think you have heard. Your husband was gutted and beheaded like a mackerel. No virus did that. Mr Draper had his throat torn open. No virus did that. There is no virus, Mrs Tyler. Not here, not anywhere.’
‘What? The… It’s like flu, they said, but then it makes you bleed out and you get all crazy before you die. I heard it on the radio. There’s a virus.’
The captain shook his head sadly. ‘No, Mrs Tyler. There are only two dead men. Before he died, Mr Draper used your radio to tell us you were delusional, afraid of some deadly virus that made your husband attack you – turned him into a zombie.’
Emily swallowed, trying to make sense of it. ‘But… but Alex was attacked by my husband too. He bit his neck.’
‘Mr Draper said that you bit him. Said you were delusional and that he tried to restrain you. Once you’d calmed down, he played along to keep you from doing anything dangerous.’
‘He was there when Ross’s head fell off!’ She realised she sounded crazy, but she could think of nothing else to tell him but the truth.
The truth.
The captain’s dark eyes bore into her. ‘Mr Draper told us your husband was hysterical and begging him for help. While Mr Draper tried to calm him down, you shot him with a flare gun. He played along with you after that for his own safety. Why did you kill him too?’
She thought about following Alex down into his bedroom and the fight that ensued. He had attacked her first, hadn’t he? She was sure of it.
Yet she wasn’t sure.
Had he been trying to hide from her?
Emily wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Was she sure Alex had even been bleeding when she’d found him? Had she imagined the blood on his bed?
‘I… I’m sick.’
The captain nodded. ‘I think so, Mrs Tyler, but not with any virus. You killed your second husband when you found out that he was cheating on you.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘We have your husband’s phone, his laptop. We saw his messages. You were angry when you found out, yes?’
‘Yes,’ she almost whispered it.
‘I understand, Mrs Tyler.’
There was a buzz and the office door opened. The captain spun around and exchanged a few words with a man who popped his head through. When the brief conversation was over, he turned back to Emily. ‘The ambassador is here with a lawyer for you. I will leave you now, but things will be better for you if you say what really happened. No more talk about viruses or zombies. Do yourself a favour, Mrs Tyler.’
Emily shook her head, feeling nothing but utter pity for herself. Once again her life was being controlled – and ruined – by men, yet she was powerless to do anything about it. She glared at the captain, trying to get through to him, to make him see. ‘I am telling you what really happened. My husband was sick. He had a virus.’
‘There is no virus, Mrs Tyler.’
‘Yes, there is! I killed Ross in self-defence – Alex too. I am not crazy. They were trying to hurt me. It happened exactly as I am telling you
. Please, tell me that you believe me. Do some tests, please. We could all be in danger. I think I have it too. That’s why I’m feeling so confused. It’s the virus. If you don’t help me then I might hurt somebody.’
The captain looked at her and sighed. ‘I understand.’
Then he exited and left her alone. Alone to think about what was real and what was not. The more time that passed, the harder it became to tell the difference. The only thing for sure was that Emily was sick.
But was it her body or her mind?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Iain Rob Wright is from the English town of Redditch, where he worked for many years as a mobile telephone salesman. After publishing his debut novel, THE FINAL WINTER, in 2011 to great success, he quit his job and became a full time writer. He has now published more than a dozen novels, and in 2013 he co-wrote a book with bestselling author J.A.Konrath.
The three most important things in his life are his wife, his son, and his fans.
His work is currently being adapted for graphic novels, audio books, and foreign audiences. He’s an active member of the Horror Writer’s Association and a massive animal lover. Join his mailing list and receive five FREE books, as well as all the latest news and releases.
You can find Iain at:
www.iainrobwright.com
www.facebook.com/authoriainrobwright
@iainrobwright
ALSO BY IAIN ROB WRIGHT
Sam
ASBO
The Final Winter
Holes in the Ground (with J.A.Konrath)
The Housemates
Sea Sick
Ravage
Savage
Straight Up (with J.A.Konrath)
Soft Target (MCU 1)
Hot Zone (MCU 2)
The Picture Frame
Slasher
Wings of Sorrow
Animal Kingdom
2389
The Peeling Omnibus
A-Z of Horror
ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE ZOMBIE
My first novel, STRAIGHT TO YOU, was released in 1996 and promptly disappeared from view. 500 copies were printed, and I still have a couple of boxes from the original print run in my garage! The experience taught me several valuable lessons about writing, most notably that both the hardest and most important task for a new author is to find people to read their work. In those dim and distant pre-Internet, pre-ebook days, that was no easy task.
Year of the Zombie (Book 3): The Yacht Page 4