by John Darling
Jemma slowly rose to her feet and grabbed onto my shoulders for support. Even though she had said she felt cold, she was sweating and clearly dehydrated. Her leg was bleeding out again. Every few moments she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth in reaction to the pain. Her body seemed to be fighting the infection with all of its strength, but we still had to get her help.
“What are we going to do, Trevor?”
That was the question of the hour and I wished I knew precisely how we could sneak onto one of these ships. In my months spent with S.T.O.R.M., this was the first time my maritime knowledge was actually coming in handy, yet I was struggling to find an exact solution.
We moved several hundred yards closer to the port and found a small hole in the fence line that we easily snuck through. Jemma pointed toward the huge container cranes and noted all of the workers scattered throughout the loading areas. We were standing behind a huge stack of containers on the edge of the yard and we watched as the massive cranes loaded containers onto the ships one by one. She asked if we could climb into one of them, but they were are all sealed and the likelihood of us sneaking onto a ship that way would be slim to none.
We continued to quietly sneak around the outskirts of the port while doing everything we could to remain unseen by anyone. As we wandered through a maze of containers I thought about the different types of ships we could see; Container, bulk, tanker. None of those seemed easily accessible to stowaways. I was beginning to get frustrated when I found the perfect ship for us. With heavenly lights glowing in the background I watched cars zip up and down this massive ship’s ramp. Of course! Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier?
“Jemma, you see that one? That’s our ride. That’s how we’re getting out of here!”
“What kind of ship is that?” she asked.
I explained to her that the beautiful ship we were staring at was a car carrier, otherwise referred to as a Roll On – Roll Off ship, RO-RO for short. This was also the same type of ship I had sailed on less than a year ago. At that time I had noticed a loophole in our vessel’s security plan and I now hoped that this ship would have the same loophole. It wouldn’t take long to figure out…
“OK, so here’s what we’re going to do. Look over there. You see that long line of cars? All of those need to be loaded on and judging by the number remaining, it looks like the ship is only going to be here for a few more hours. Most of the cars are usually unlocked, or at least some of them should be. We’re going to find one, climb into the trunk and wait for the car to be driven onto the ship. Once we feel the ship start to move, we can get out and find the sick bay.”
“Trevor, that’s ridiculous! It can’t be that easy. And what if someone sees us? What if we can’t get any help from anyone on the ship? What if I turn while we’re in the trunk together? What if—”
I stopped her before she could ask another question. All of her points were valid but we didn’t have time to worry about hypothetical problems. We needed to get somewhere safe. Jemma continued rambling on and asking questions. I grabbed both of her hands and looked right into her eyes.
“Jemma, you’re going to have to trust me.”
She hesitated for a split-second and took a deep breath before nodding her head. The base would probably have been a much better option for someone in her condition, but we had found this port instead. We would either board a ship here or die in the desert.
I let go of one of her hands and guided her over to the large parking lot full of cars. She held onto my shoulder with her other, and although she could barely put weight on her wounded leg, she did her best to keep up. The cars being loaded were nothing fancy, a lot of pickup trucks and vans. They were all used, unlike the brand new cars my ship had loaded in Australia.
This might work to our favor, though, I thought. If we found an inconspicuous vehicle to hide in, perhaps it would be less likely to be checked if the crew did perform random stowaway searches. I spotted an old black Honda sedan toward the back of the line. This old car was exactly what we needed.
I pointed at the car and we resumed weaving between cars through the parking lot. I checked to make sure that none of the longshoremen, security guards or other port employees saw us move as we got closer to the car. The night sky combined with the poorly lit area where the car was provided us with perfect cover as we approached the vehicle. I slid my hand underneath the latch of the trunk, took a quick breath and prayed that the car was unlocked…
My heart immediately sank as the trunk’s latch didn’t budge. Without panicking, I quickly told Jemma to wait on the ground as I crawled over to the driver’s side door. I counted to three and gently tugged on the handle. It clicked forward and the driver’s side door opened. A rush of adrenaline hit me as I quickly pressed the trunk button on the dash and the back of the vehicle flung open. This is our chance.
Jemma and I quickly climbed in, but the trunk was nowhere near as roomy as I had hoped. We were practically on top of one another by the time all of our limbs were in the vehicle. I slowly closed the hatch and did my best to find a comfortable position while we waited for the car to move.
I was unprepared for the level of darkness that existed in the trunk of the car. Jemma and I spent several minutes accidentally hitting and kicking each other while trying to find a comfortable position. Without knowing how long it was going to take for the car to be driven on the ship, I urged Jemma to stay positive while we waited and rotated our bodies.
Ultimately, we found that the best way for us to get comfortable was to hug each other while intertwining our legs at the same time. I called it the ‘horizontal hug’, which made Jemma laugh. It was the first time since finding her that she had smiled, which instantly made me feel good. We nestled our heads together and she kissed me on the cheek. For a moment I almost forgot where we are and just enjoyed the fact that we were together. She thanked me again for coming to her rescue. I didn’t think she understood that I had been every bit as happy to find her, as she was to see me. Unfortunately, our moment was abruptly ended by the sound of the car’s engine turning on. Jemma gripped me tightly as we braced ourselves for movement.
The car rattled and shook as we moved forward. The driver clearly had no regard for caution, and our bodies slammed into the sides of the trunk as he whipped around turns. We fell back toward the opening, indicating that we must be going up the ramp of the ship. The car quickly leveled out again, but only for a few seconds. We fell back and forth a few more times before finally coming to a stop. Voices, along with the clanking noises of the lashing chains, filled the air outside the car.
Once the voices had moved away from our car, I assumed that the car was now lashed down to the deck. I explained to Jemma that cars and vehicles were lashed down with either chains or straps to prevent movement while the ship was at sea. Jemma reached for the trunk release cord, but I quickly grabbed her hand. We had to wait to get out until the ship starts moving, to ensure our safety. Getting out now might have blown our cover since there were more than likely people right outside the vehicle overseeing the cargo operations.
An hour passed and Jemma has become extremely restless. Being in an awkward position like this with poor air quality has made waiting in here difficult. She yelled out in pain a few times from her leg, and I had to put my hand over her mouth so no one would hear her. Each time she did it, there was a spilt-second when my hand wasn’t on her mouth and I feared that each time someone might hear her. Thankfully nobody seemed to hear us. Voices came by and then disappeared, and I realized we had completed the toughest part of my plan; successfully getting on the ship. Despite her discomfort, Jemma expressed her satisfaction with the idea. Somehow, I had known it would work. The last thing I was hoping for was the nationality of the vessel. If this was an American ship and the crew spoke English, then we would have no problem getting around. If not, then we would have a new set of problems to deal with.
Another twenty minutes passed and I was relieved to hear the large ventilati
on fans turn off. That meant that most of the lashers were done and it wouldn’t be long now before the ship got under way. I told Jemma that we would wait until the ship got moving, but she needed water. I elected to risk our luck and get out of the vehicle now. Slowly, I opened the trunk and looked around to see if anyone was around. Thankfully, there was nothing but a sea of cars in front of me and not a single human in sight.
Jemma wanted to get out as well, but I didn’t think that was a good idea yet. I knew the basic layout of this type of ship and I wanted to do some recon alone. Jemma protested a little, but bringing her along would only have slowed me down. As much as she didn’t want to admit, she was a liability. I couldn’t risk us being seen and then kicked off the ship after everything we had gone through to get here.
I convinced her to stay put after a few minutes of arguing. Before closing the trunk I kissed her on her forehead and promised that I would return for her no matter what. I left my sidearm in the trunk with her as she had insisted that she might need it in the event that she turned. My biggest fear now was that this would be the very last time I saw her as a human.
Looking all around, I made my way out from the sea of cars and headed toward the car ramps. I looked to my right and saw a huge number eleven on the bulkhead, indicating which deck this was. Judging from how many times we had fallen backwards in the trunk, I had had the feeling we were parked on one of the upper decks. The other car carrier I had been on had had twelve decks and the layout of this one so far was exactly the same. While going down each deck one by one, I noticed that all of the safety signs are in English which was a huge relief. Whatever nationality the crew were, they most likely spoke English.
After a few minutes, I found a door to the main stairwell. I climbed up a few flights until I got to the main berthing area, which was located one deck above deck twelve. I exited the stairwell area and turned the corner. One of the crew members came walking toward me with his head down and I immediately ducked behind a different bulkhead so he wouldn’t see me. Luckily, he didn’t and kept on walking. I took a deep breath and proceeded down the main passageway.
It was late at night now which means the galley might not be occupied. I would have given anything for a drink right now and I became fixated on the idea of a cold glass of water. I spotted the main door to the galley and ran as fast as I could toward it, without making any loud noises. As luck would have it, no one was in here. Just then, I heard a loud noise come from beneath my feet and felt the ship start to move. We seemed to be getting underway.
I didn’t waste any time and started filling up containers with food and water for Jemma and I. After downing two water bottles, hunger hit me and most of what I was grabbing started going straight into my mouth instead of into the containers. I refrained from eating after two solid minutes of stuffing my face and remembered that Jemma was still in the trunk in need of supplies. I finished gathering what I could find and exited the galley.
I looked down both sides of the main passageway before venturing out into the open again. Running as fast I could, I set my sights on the door to the stairwell. I made it to the door without spilling any of the food, and more importantly without being seen. I reached for the handle but the door flung open just as I was going to open it. I froze like a deer in the headlights as I made eye contact with the person ahead of me. It was too late to run, but it only took a few milliseconds to realize that I might be OK. I had never expected to see this person today.
“Hey! What are you—Oh my God, Trevor? How in the hell did you get here?!”
Chapter Thirty-Eight: An Angel Named Elizabeth
My mouth hung open from shock. Some of the food I had gathered fell on the floor around my feet. I thought about picking it up, but I couldn’t believe that after this hell of a day I had found someone I knew. And not anyone, but a friend.
“Trevor! What are you doing here?!”
How was I supposed to explain to someone I hadn’t seen or talked to in almost a year why I was here? For starters, I didn’t think she would believe me. There are some days where I myself didn’t even believe the turns my life had taken. Staring at her, I quickly tried to come up with something to say.
“We were worried sick about you. We heard that your father died and then we thought you quit school since you never came back. You didn’t respond to any of our messages. We thought you had disappeared!”
Liz rushed into my arms and ferociously hugged me. She had been a very close friend of mine back at Kings Point, always there to help me with anything I needed. I had never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would find her all the way out here in Africa. But boy was I glad to see her. If there was anyone that could help me right now, it would be her. The most important reason behind that was because I knew I could trust her. Out of all of my friends back at school, I could always confide things in her that I did not want the general public to know. I might not have been able to tell her everything about my new life, but hopefully she could help Jemma get the attention she needs. We released from our hug and I began to speak, but my sentence was cut off sharply by a voice coming through the radio attached to her coveralls.
“Deck Cadet, Captain.”
Just as quickly as the voice came on, Liz responded.
“Deck Cadet here.”
“Finished with that stowaway search yet? Get up to the bridge!”
I froze when I heard the word stowaway and instantly thought of Jemma. A good thirty minutes had passed since I had left her and I needed to get her out of that car quickly. Liz told the captain that she would be up to the Bridge shortly.
“Trevor, you need to tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?!”
“Ok, well we don’t have time to explain everything. You have to help me.”
Liz paused for a second and looked at me. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Look, Trevor, I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a job to do, and as far as I can tell you are not supposed to be here.”
“Just listen! You have to help me. I’m in deep shit right now and I don’t have much time. You have to help me right now.”
I quickly explained to Liz that I was not the only person that had snuck on board. Jemma had been scrunched up in the back of that car for far too long now. Her condition was unstable and at any moment the situation could go from bad to exponentially worse. Especially now since we were around other people. If she turned, she would be a direct threat to everyone on the ship. This wasn’t like the desert where there was nothing and no one for miles. We were risking everything by coming onto this ship, but we had had to take that risk if there is any chance of getting her healthy again.
Liz agreed to help for a few minutes and I led her to Deck Eleven and the black sedan where I had left Jemma. I ran up to the car as fast as I could and my heart nearly stopped beating when we found the trunk of the vehicle open. Panic really set in as we discovered that Jemma was no longer in the back. I frantically yelled out Jemma’s name and Liz pointed out drops of drying brown liquid on the deck leading away from the car. We followed them and about a hundred feet later, located Jemma lying on the deck in between two trucks.
“She doesn’t look too good.”
Normally, I would have responded to Liz’s blatant observation with some sort of witty remark, but there was no time for that. I quickly scooped Jemma up and ran toward the door. Her face was all red and her body was drenched in sweat. It was evident that I had left her in the back of that car for too long. Liz ran ahead and opened the door for me while looking around to make sure no one saw us. Her radio blared as several people requested her assistance, and she yelled over the noise; “We have to get to my room. Hurry!”
Jemma’s head bounced around as I struggled to get up the three flights of very narrow stairs with her in my arms. Liz peeked around the corner of the passageway and signaled that it was clear. We sprinted as fast as we could toward her room. Liz flung the door open and cleared off her bed.
&
nbsp; “Here! Lay her down. There’s water in the fridge and a few snacks. I have to get to work otherwise they’re going to know something is going on. Under no circumstances are you to open this door for anyone. I have a key and can let myself in. Close the blinds and do not make any loud noises. I’ll be back as soon as I can!”
The door slammed shut and I locked it behind her. I followed her instructions and closed the curtains on the two windows, which quickly darkened the room. I turned on the lamp on the side table next to the bed and then darted across the room to the fridge. Jemma was still unconscious and must have been dehydrated. We both were, but I had been lucky enough to gulp some water earlier in the galley.
The fridge was packed with water bottles and the cold air that rushed out of it when I opened the door felt amazing. I cracked open a bottle and quickly downed half of it in seconds. Turning toward Jemma, I kneeled next to her and tried to wake her. I started pouring tiny amounts of water across her forehead and cleaned up some of the dirt off her face. After doing that a few times and calling out her name, she came around. I slowly poured some of the cool liquid into her mouth. She coughed up the first few gulps but thankfully swallowed it after that. I had to get her body temperature down.
We emptied the first bottle within seconds which forced me to get another two from the fridge. I drank one and got Jemma to almost drink a whole one herself. I tried pouring a little water on her wound in an attempt to clean it, but that only made her scream out in pain. As soon as the screeching sound waves left her lips, I rushed my hand to her mouth just like I had back in the car. We couldn’t let anyone hear us. I froze for a moment and prayed that there wouldn’t be a knock at the door. Thankfully, there was none.
Jemma was starting to cool off and I explained to her what had happened since I left her. I was being as clear as I can but for whatever reason, she didn’t seem to be comprehending what I was saying. A blank stare occupied her face as I spoke and I decided that she might need a few minutes to recover. Perhaps the infection had temporarily messed with her memory. After a few minutes of sipping water, Jemma looked up at me and asked where we were. It was the first thing she’d been able to say since I had found her. She might not have remembered getting on the ship and I had the pleasure of reporting to her that we were finally safe.