His body was heavy, he had a headache, and there was pain and bruising around his hips, but apart from that, he felt good. He was alive.
How long had he slept?
He got out of bed. On a small dresser by the door to the en-suite were a neatly folded shirt, jumper, trousers and underwear. He picked up the jumper. The wool was soft and light, well made. He looked at the label, Prada.
Andy put the jumper down and stepped into the en-suite. It was compact, but everything shone, and was clean. He stared at the shower. It had been a long time since he had a hot shower, not since the Fall. Excitement rallied somewhere deep inside him, like it was Christmas eve and he was six years old.
A hot shower.
“Don’t get too excited just yet…” he said to himself.
He reached into the cubicle, braced himself against disappointment, and turned the red tap. The pipes spluttered and after a few false starts and staccato bursts of water, a steady stream sprayed from the head.
Andy didn’t dare reach in to feel the temperature. He didn’t want to lose the hope; the hope was better than finding out he was wrong.
Steam rose from the cubicle. His eyes were drawn to the mirror over the small sink beside him. A thin layer of condensation was forming.
Andy reached his hand in, and drew it back quickly. Red hot.
He smiled, then he laughed. He suddenly thought what a fool he had been to not love and cherish every hot shower he had ever had before the Fall.
He gave the cold a small turn, and once the temperature was just right, he stepped in, his skin rippling with goose-pimples under the warm water.
Chapter 4
Andy looked at himself in the mirror. His hair could do with a cut but, given the shave, the new clothes and the shower, he found himself looking almost like he used to. Of course, the airline would never have tolerated his new longer hair, but to be honest, he quite liked it. It seemed more fitting to his new life somehow.
He straightened the shirt collar under his jumper and left the room. He was in a short thin corridor, dark and oak panelled, lit with attractive under-lighting along the walls. A number of discreet door handles glimmered with dull gold, indicating more cabins, before the corridor ended with stairs, leading up to light and the sounds of talking.
Andy closed his cabin door and made his way towards the stairs. He had no shoes on, and his feet sank into delicious soft carpet.
He climbed the stairs to a kitchen diner, long and fitted out in deep woods and sparkling metal. Beyond the shining kitchen, towards the stern, was a large deep oak table, around which sat Carl and Jenny, and another, unrecognised, man. Everything was deep red and old wood, glinting with gentle runs of gold.
The group stopped their conversation on seeing Andy.
Jenny was the first to speak, “Captain! Oh my God, how are you feeling? Just look at you!” She jumped up and ran towards him, holding out her arms.
Andy smiled and they embraced. He felt another pair of arms around him, it was Carl.
“Thank God you’re ok. You’ve been asleep for nearly a day,” said Carl.
It felt good; to be alive, to be wanted, to be back with his friends.
Andy looked the other two up and down. Like him they were both dressed immaculately in expensive designer clothes, washed, and all together well turned out.
“Everyone’s looking great,” said Andy, smiling.
“I believe I owe you an apology,” said a deep voice from the table. It was the unknown man. He had stood up, a large and imposing figure, standing with an easy yet commanding grace that seemed fitting to the opulent surroundings. Andy guessed he was somewhere in his sixties; his worn face suggesting a life outdoors, a deep tan adding numerous wrinkles to his skin. His grey hair, close cut, added a steely continence to the man.
“Hello, I’m Andy,” said Andy holding out his hand as he walked over. “I don’t believe you need to apologise for anything, it looks like you saved us.”
The man shook Andy’s hand with a strong grip. “I’m Grant. And I nearly killed you I’m afraid. That’s what I owe my apology for.”
“What do you mean?”
“I rammed your little boat. I couldn’t see you in the dark, and the radar hasn’t been working for some time. From what the others tell me, I knocked you into the sea and we nearly lost you. I think you were already unconscious at the time.”
Andy nodded, the faded memories beginning to make sense. “I can remember that… But look, I don’t think you need to apologise for anything. We are where we are, and this is…” he held out his arms, “this is better than anything we’ve had since the Fall.”
Andy spied the food laid out on the table, a roast chicken and what looked like steamed vegetables, with gravy. His mouth watered helplessly.
Grant laughed, “Tuck in, you deserve it.”
Andy sat back in the chair, his stomach full. Before the Fall he would have eaten twice again, but his stomach must have shrunk over the past few months, the meagre portions they salvaged from houses, cars, hotels and restaurants barely enough to sustain them.
“So, it was quite fortuitous,” said Grant, “that I was ready for a long stint at sea. There I was stocked, ready for a trip to India, and all hell breaks loose. It was a terrifying thing to watch, and I imagine even more so to be part of. I really don’t know how you people survived the initial Fall, never mind the aftermath.”
“We look out for each other,” said Jenny.
“I can see that,” said Grant. “I almost believed myself lucky to be alone, to not have anyone to worry about and lose. But seeing how you three work together, maybe I was wrong.” he smiled gently and took a sip of wine. “So anyway, I was harboured in Majorca, and the island was burning, literally burning; a fire like you’ve never seen, it covered the horizon. Boats like mine fled the island in droves. I stayed, for some reason, anchored a few miles off shore. It was a terrible, almost beautiful sight, if you can understand me. The whole island like a torch in the dark. The noise of the burning will haunt me…” he paused. “God knows what happened, but I imagine most people on the island were gone.”
Grant lit a cigar and sat back, puffing gently. “Would you like one?”
Andy took one.
For a moment the only sound was the gentle crackling of tobacco catching light.
“Why did you come back here?” said Andy, blowing smoke into the air. It felt good. The wine, the cigar, the warmth, the friends.
“My wife. We had divorced eight years ago. She got the house, and I got the boat. Suited me just fine. I wanted to come back, see if, well, see if maybe she had survived. I was hoping that given it was the end of the world she may…” he tailed off again and sat in silence, staring at the bottle of wine.
“What happened?” said Carl.
“I haven’t been ashore yet. She lived in Brighton. Oh, I’ve passed it several times since the Fall, watching the shore, but I’ve never went on shore again, except to refuel. I just sail, uselessly, no direction. I watch the coast. I see them you know, on the beaches, on the docks, the harbours. Wandering like giant seagulls without wings, but looking to steal more than your chips,” he chuckled quietly to himself. He looked up and smiled, “I was on my way from here when I, well, when I bumped into you.”
“To Brighton?” said Andy.
“No, somewhere south. It’s getting too cold. I’ve realised I’m not going to look for my wife. It’s time for warmer climes.”
“That makes sense,” said Carl, smiling. “You’ve got it made, this boat, safe from the zombies, never have to go near them!”
“Well, there’s the refuelling, as I said, that’s the only danger point. But, apart from that, yes, I suppose I’ve got it made.” He raised his glass, “To having it made.”
Chapter 5
Andy stood on the deck of the powerboat. Perched on the bough, he watched the sea part before the weight of the hundred feet of expensive boat. Grant had not revealed what he had done before the
Fall, but had left hints he had been in business of some sort. Whatever it was, he had done well.
The sun was shining, a fresh autumn day. The hilly and green coast of Cornwall sat still and magnificent to his left, about half a mile away. The water was gentle, and soft flowing waves rocked them with care, as they trundled along at a low five knots.
Carl joined him. “You’d almost think nothing was happening, being on this boat,” he said, staring at the land. “Hard to think those things are there, eating people, running around with their faces hanging off.”
“I’ll never forget,” said Andy. “And neither should you.”
“Don’t worry. Just sometimes, it’s nice to pretend, you know what I mean?”
Andy nodded, thinking of the times he had imagined waking up next to his wife, with the baby that never had a chance sleeping in a cot beside the bed.
“How long until we reach this marina?” said Carl.
“Should be another day, at this speed,” said Andy. “That’s what Grant thinks anyway. Then we refuel and…”
“Heading south I hope.”
“Let’s see what Grant thinks about all this first. He has the idea we could stay on this boat for ever, just travelling from marina to marina, fuelling and restocking when we can. Although, if that’s the case, there’s a few things I’d like to, well, define.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re very much at Grant’s beck and call at the moment. It’s his boat, we’re his guests. If he wants us to stay, then I’d like to see a more equal arrangement.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then we have to get off.”
Carl didn’t answer, but turned to stare at the land again.
Grant and Andy were in the galley, Andy making a cup of tea.
“You’ve been generous,” said Andy, pouring hot water into his cup. It felt wonderful to be able to have a cup of tea again whenever you wanted. Not having to start the fire, find the water, find the tea bags. Just open the cupboard, turn on the kettle, there it was.
Life before the Fall had been unbridled luxury; how humans had been wrapped in the warmest and softest of cotton wool.
“It’s not completely one sided,” said Grant easing himself onto one of the breakfast stools. “Your company has been good. I didn’t think I’d miss people, but I did. And I would again if you left.”
“Well, hopefully we wont have to,” said Andy, raising his eyes to look at Grant.
Grant held his gaze for a moment. “I see. Well, if you’re asking to stay, then wholeheartedly, yes. I can think of nothing I’d prefer. There’s strength in numbers, not just physical strength, but mental and spiritual strength too. We need that.”
Andy smiled, “I’m glad to hear we’re still welcome.”
“Of course,” said Grant. They sat in silence for a moment. “I sense there’s something else?” The man’s brow furrowed, wondering.
“There is. First of all, I’d like to say thank you again, for saving our lives, and letting us stay here. We’d have died on that boat. And now, the food, the comfort, the warmth… We couldn’t have dreamed of this a few weeks ago. You’re a very generous host.”
Grant smiled. “Ah, I see.”
Andy nodded.
Grant adjusted himself on the stool and leaned forward. “What’d it take for you to consider yourselves not as guests, but as at home here as I am? Believe me when I say that this past week has been delightful. The conversation, just the simple presence of other people has been wonderful. I’m more than happy to exchange my little, empire, to be part of a family.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Andy felt relief, he didn’t realise the tension that had been building over the past few days; the fear that he may have had to leave the boat. “Teach me, teach us, everything about the boat.”
“Of course,” smiled Grant, also looking relieved. “What do you want to know?”
“How to pilot it, how the refuelling works, the maintenance. For example, you spend a lot of time in the engine room, We could help with the work down there, for starters.”
Grant blinked, then quickly smiled. “Of course, I can start showing you straight away. The engine room, can be a bit complicated, let’s start with just piloting the boat first. You want to start now?”
Andy nodded. “No time like the present.”
Grant got up and walked towards the bridge at the front of the boat. Andy followed, glancing at the stairs to his right, that led down to the engine room.
Chapter 6
Jenny held the wheel in her hands and turned it gently.
“Don’t oversteer,” said Grant. “Allow yourself a few seconds delay before she actually starts to turn.”
Jenny eyed the compass, and eased the wheel to the left again as it nudged passed 260 degrees. The heading could be set automatically of course, but that wasn’t the point. She wanted to be able to to do it on her own.
“It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it?” said Jenny, “having something this big under your control. Must be like when the Captain flies planes.”
Grant chuckled. “I couldn’t imagine flying a plane, all those people, all that responsibility.” His face clouded over. “It must have been awful what happened to you. I was lucky, to witness the Fall from the safety of this boat, I may as well have been half a world away. Sometimes I wonder if it’s ever registered with me at all…”
“So you hardly went to land at all, before the Fall?”
“Oh, I’d harbour up for a few weeks at a time somewhere, and I’d resupply, maybe visit a few bars, restaurants. But mostly I kept myself to myself. The trip to India was a dream, a great big journey like that, but I think I was ready. The challenge was what I was looking forward to.”
“You must be a good, erm, boat driver?”
Grant smiled. “I’ve got experience. Whether I’m good or not, well that’s still to be tested. You never know until you know.”
Jenny turned the wheel slowly again, less than she thought she needed and watched the needle edge towards 260 degrees. “Didn’t you get lonely?”
“I did,” said Grant.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Jenny was never one of those people comfortable with silence. “Well, no need to be lonely anymore. I think it’s great we found each other. I think we’re lucky to have all found such nice people.”
Grant smiled at her but said nothing.
“Got it!” The compass needle sat on 260 degrees, exactly.
Andy stood on the deck with Grant. They eyed the marina, the entrance at the end of a concrete pier, behind which bobbed what looked like a thousand masts. The wind had picked up and a stiff breeze tugged at Andy’s neck. He pulled his jacket tight. The lonely sound of bells rang from the forgotten yachts. Andy felt he was looking at an old sea-born graveyard.
The town of Tulloch sat behind the marina; small white and black beamed houses rose up the hill in a higgledy piggledy fashion, the vista demanding an artist. It was probable, thought Andy, that a million paintings of this view already existed, all for sale in the small sea front shops that lined the parade.
“It always makes me nervous, going on shore,” said Grant. “I guess it’s because I don’t do it so often now.”
“I know what you mean.” said Andy. “Too many surprises on land.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“We’ll dock, you can start refuelling. Me, Carl and Jenny can go and get some supplies. Food, medical, see what we can find.”
“Maybe one of you could stay with me, on the boat,” said Grant. “I could do with some help refuelling.”
“Ok, I’ll ask Carl or Jenny.”
“Thanks. How long do you think the supply run will take? Refuelling will be about forty minutes or so for a full tank.”
“Let’s say a few hours,” said Andy. “Should give us time to cover a good number of places. Restaurants and hotels are the best. Lots of non perishables, tins of stuff, you know? Lots of zombies too
though…”
Grant looked at his watch. “Ok, nine am. Let’s get started.”
They pulled into the marina slowly, Grant expertly taking the yacht through the narrow waterways, avoiding the various flotsam; the garbage and junk that had floated in on the tide. Andy turned up his nose as, from his position on the bough, he watched a body float past. Bloated and grey, mottled skin. He waited for it to suddenly animate and grab for the boat, but its dead eyes stared to the sky. There was a gentle thud as it hit the hull.
Grant manoeuvred the boat next to the fuelling berth, the ship’s thrusters revving and whirring loudly.
Too loud, thought Andy. How long since there had been noise like this in the town?
“Ok,” shouted Grant, “You’re on!”
Andy jumped off the boat and grabbed the ropes as they were passed to him by Carl and Jenny. He tied the thick ropes around the large cleats on the dock wall. The boat fired a final burst and came to rest aside the harbour. Silence again, the sort of silence that Andy had come accustomed to; the silence of nature, of the world before humans. Gulls cawed in the sky. The wind blew gently. Water lapped against the concrete of the dock.
And wind caught the bells of the ships in their masts. Although greatly diminished, it would take much longer for all signs of the human race to be removed from the world. Maybe never…
“So, two hours,” said Andy, putting on his backpack and taking his baseball bat in hand. “Any funny business and you guys get out of here.”
“Im not sure about that bit of the plan,” said Jenny, who was staying on the boat with Grant. “Leaving you here doesn’t sound right.”
“You don’t have to go far, just away from the marina. Just keep yourselves within sight and we’ll find you. Anyway, that’s only if anything goes wrong, and it won’t.” He smiled, then turned to Carl. “You ready?”
Carl was scanning the nearby town of Tulloch. The end of the marina path led to a road, that continued to the main front of the town, about half a mile away. “I’m ready,” he said.
After the Fall Page 28