He headed downstairs, pausing at the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, and went to the lounger where Krista lay. “Hey,” he said quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m putting some water here, okay? You should try to drink something. Hydrating helps.”
She didn’t answer, but after a moment she snaked her hand out from under the blanket. Adam pressed the water bottle into it, and she drew it back. A moment later he heard the sloshing of water against the inside of the bottle and the sound of Krista swallowing.
He moved to Cody. “You should be in the shade,” he told his friend. “Drinking in the sun like this is a bad idea.”
“Mmm,” Cody said. He didn’t move.
Adam glanced over at Max, still in the hot tub. Max seemed marginally more alert than the others, and now he narrowed his eyes at Adam. “What d’you want?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Adam said. “Just checking in.”
“You his mother?”
“Look, don’t get pissed at me because you used up your supply,” Adam said. “I didn’t take any of it.” He turned and went back up to the second deck to see about breakfast.
But there was no food on the table. The three crew members sat there, clustered around the radio, their faces quiet and stricken.
“What’s going on?” Adam asked, approaching them.
Sara looked up. “They’re shutting down the funeral homes,” she said quietly.
“The funeral homes?”
“They’re too full,” Artem said brusquely. “Can’t accommodate any more dead. People are going to have to deal with their dead on their own.”
Adam took a seat, feeling chilled despite the hot sun. “All the funeral homes?”
“From the sound of it,” Artem said. “If I were on the mainland, I’d have given up on that whole institution a long time ago. No one’s got time for a funeral. Not anymore. Not with things the way they are.”
“But people can’t deal with dead bodies by themselves,” Ray said. He sounded deeply shaken. “Nobody’s going to know what to do with a corpse. Would any of you?”
“Burn them, I guess.” Sara’s voice wavered. Adam rested a hand on top of hers, and she turned her hand to hold his. “Or…or they could take them to the hospitals.”
“Hospitals aren’t going to take them,” Adam said, remembering his final phone call with his stepfather. “They’ll have dead of their own to worry about, with everyone crowding in to get to the MRI machines.”
Artem nodded. “I’d be surprised if every hospital employee who’s been showing up to work hasn’t been infected by now. Those places are breeding grounds for the virus. If someone I cared about got sick, the hospital is the last place I’d take them.”
“But the MRI—” Ray began.
“Fuck the MRI machines,” Artem said. “How many people do you think are actually being cured that way? Those machines haven’t got a prayer of keeping up with the demand. That’s not going to be what saves humanity. You mark my words.”
“Then what will?” Ray asked. “There’s got to be something.”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Sara asked. Her voice was stronger now, supported by an undercurrent of what sounded to Adam like anger. She waved a hand at the radio. “Aren’t you paying attention? We’ve all been listening to the same reports, haven’t we? We’re all hearing the same things.”
“It’s never going to be like it was,” Adam said, remembering when he had said the same thing to Cody. That felt like a long time ago now. He hadn’t quite believed it when he’d said it before. He had been trying to shock his friend, to wake him up to the seriousness of the situation. But deep down, he had still held out hope that the world could go back to normal.
He didn’t believe that anymore.
People were burning the bodies of their loved ones.
Hospitals had become morgues.
Whatever the future held for the human race—if there was any future for them at all—it wasn’t going to look like anything they had ever seen before.
The eight of them gathered that evening in the third-deck lounge to watch the news report on television.
Krista was still pale and shivering, but she had managed to climb the stairs and was burrowed in her blanket on the couch. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. Duane sat beside her, one arm draped loosely around her shoulders, but there was nothing tender or comforting about the gesture. Adam thought it looked more as if he were using her as an armrest than anything else. For the first time since they’d left the mainland, he found himself feeling sorry for Krista.
Cody and Max sat at the bar. The liquor was gone, but they’d unearthed some bottles of cola. Cody held one out to Adam and he accepted, reminding himself that it wasn’t a peace offering. He was allowed to maintain his irritation at his friend. Cola wasn’t going to make that disappear.
The members of the crew stood in a tight huddle. Artem held the TV remote. Everyone fell quiet as he turned up the volume.
“The death toll has risen exponentially,” a voice said, speaking over images of packed freeways, looted stores, and boarded-up homes. Adam felt loose and watery inside. He couldn’t see a single person in all of San Francisco. Where was everyone? They couldn’t all be dead, could they?
“The use of deadly force has been authorized for military officers and SFPD patrol members,” the voice went on. “You are advised to cooperate with any orders you are given by a member of either of these forces. Looting will not be permitted, and second chances will not be offered.”
“Yeah, right,” Artem scoffed. “I’m sure no looting’s going to go on now that he’s said that.”
“Do you really think they’d kill people for trying it?” Sara asked.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Adam said, remembering the scene outside the hospital, the officers firing into the crowd.
“Do not attempt to leave the city,” the TV newscaster said now. “Highways are blocked. All bridges have been closed until further notice. You are advised to remain in your homes.”
“I can’t believe they’re still feeding people that line,” Adam said. “They were saying that weeks ago. Trying to keep everyone in their homes isn’t working.”
“They don’t know what to do,” Artem said. “They’re trying to sound like they’ve got it under control because they’re afraid to admit they don’t. This is how catastrophes happen. People won’t admit their out of their depth, even when it might save lives.”
“Conspiracy theorist,” Max muttered.
Artem rounded on him. “You think I’m being dramatic? You think this isn’t happening? Look at those pictures! Go on, look at them!”
Suddenly, Krista let out a shriek.
Adam spun around. Krista was gripping her face with both hands, her nails digging into her cheeks. “That’s my friend’s house!” she choked. “That-that’s my friend! That’s Natalia!”
Adam looked back at the TV. The scene was horrific. They were looking down from above on a kidney-shaped pool in which a blonde woman floated facedown. The water was stained a disturbing reddish color.
Duane sat forward. “Is that Natalia Harper?” he asked.
Adam recognized the name. Natalia Harper was a famous lingerie model. But he thought it was heartless of Duane to act as though he was meeting the girl in a bar instead of spotting her dead in her own swimming pool.
Krista was hyperventilating, clawing at her face and rocking back and forth. “That’s Natalia!” she screamed. “That’s Natalia. Oh God, oh God!”
Adam sat down beside Krista, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her hands into her lap before she could hurt herself. “Somebody shut that off, will you?” he said. “She doesn’t need to see this. Christ.” He gripped Krista’s arms tightly. “Breathe, okay?” he said to her. “In and out, come on.”
He could see her trying, but her eyes were growing wider and more panicked. She wasn’t getting enough air, and it was working her up even more.
He moved to sit
behind her, pushing Duane out of the way more roughly than was strictly necessary. He placed one hand on her diaphragm and the other on her back, then compressed her lungs gently but firmly.
“Breathe out,” he said. “Bad air out. Good air in.” He released her lungs and let her inhale, which she did sharply and painfully, then compressed again. “Bad air out. Good air in. There you go.”
Everyone watched in silence. Finally, after several minutes, Krista’s breathing stabilized. She burst into exhausted tears and collapsed in Adam’s arms.
“All right,” he said quietly, rubbing her back. “Okay.”
“Natalia,” she whimpered.
“You know her?”
“She’s my—she’s my best friend. I was going to go to her house. Then Duane invited m-me here, on this boat, and I thought I’d do this first and then go to her. She didn’t have the bots…she should have been safe…”
No one is safe, Adam thought. But he didn’t speak. He sat still and continued to rub Krista’s back.
“If Natalia could be dead, anyone could be dead,” Krista whimpered. “My…my parents. My brother. Anybody. Couldn’t they?” And she looked up at Adam, her eyes pleading with him to tell her she was wrong.
He couldn’t lie. “Yes,” he said quietly. “They could.”
Over at the bar, Cody looked shaken, as if he was finally awake to what Adam had been trying to tell him all this time. Even the members of the crew looked disturbed. Something about witnessing Krista’s personal loss had made the situation feel much more real.
“I want to go home,” Krista sobbed, burying her face in Adam’s shoulder. “Please, please, let’s go back. I want to go home.”
Chapter 8
They waited a few hours before sitting down to talk. Krista spent that time glued to Adam’s side, and although he didn’t relish having to look out for her, he couldn’t really blame her. None of her friends were helping her, and she was clearly having a hell of a time keeping herself calm. And, in truth, it made for a decent distraction. Adam had been through his own drug detox. He wasn’t alarmed when Krista scratched at her arms and rocked back and forth, when her muscles began to cramp and she ground her teeth. He sat with her and kept her drinking water.
Cody was with Duane and Max, drinking coffee and sobering up. Adam thought they either must have gone off the party drugs sooner than Krista had, or else they’d all had a much higher tolerance. Either way, it was clear that the three of them had it a little more together than she did.
At eight o’clock, as the sun began to set over the water, Artem dropped anchor and came out of the control room to sit at the table on deck two. Slowly, the others joined him. Sara came out of the kitchen, and Ray emerged from his bunk. Cody, Duane, and Max came up from the downstairs bar, cups of coffee in hand. Adam helped Krista to the table, sat her down beside Duane (rather pointedly, he hoped) and took his own seat at the other end of the table.
Artem stood and faced the group. “It’s time we talked about the state of the world, and what the future holds for us,” he said. “I’ve allowed this to go on much longer than I should have.”
“Hang on,” Cody interrupted, getting to his feet. “You’ve allowed? You’re not in charge here, Vesik, this is my boat—”
“Sit down, son, and listen to sense for once in your damn life,” Artem snapped.
To Adam’s immense surprise, Cody sat.
“We’ve all heard the news coming through on the radio,” Artem said. “We’ve all seen the reports on the television. And now it’s time we came together and made a plan. We should have done it a long time ago, but I suppose I hoped something would happen to wake you all up.” He shook his head. “Should have watched what I wished for, shouldn’t I? Even now, I’m not sure how alert you are to the state of the world.” He fixed his gaze on Duane, who fidgeted.
“We understand it,” Max said. “It’s shifted on the mainland, hasn’t it? The virus is out of control now.”
“The virus has been out of control for a while,” Adam interjected.
Sara nodded. “I think we’d already passed the tipping point when we set off on this journey. There was never going to be any going back. Not to the world we knew.”
“But we have to go back,” Krista protested, her voice shrill and panicky. “People are dying.”
“People were always dying,” Artem said.
“But not…you know.” She waved a hand helplessly. “Not our people.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Adam said.
“Chill out, man,” Duane said. “Look, Krista’s right. I think most of us didn’t realize how serious this was, that it was going to affect our friends and family.”
A flash of rage shot through Adam. God, he hated Duane. He’d hated him ever since they’d come on board. And Max, too. This entire expedition had been a waste of time, a drain on his energy. It should have been him and Cody out here together, looking for a new way of life, trying to figure out how to survive now that the world they knew was falling apart. Instead, it had turned into a rave. And it was all these Neanderthals’ fault.
“You didn’t realize how serious it was?” he said. “You didn’t know? You privileged asshole.”
“Hey, now—” Duane raised his hands in self-defense.
“My mother and stepfather are dead,” Adam said, aware that his voice was increasing in volume. “My whole family is gone. They died the night before we set sail. I talked to them on the phone at the hospital, and then I never spoke to them again. I didn’t get to see them. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t rush to the hospital to be with them. And do you know why?”
“Dude, I didn’t say—”
“Because they told me to get myself out,” Adam said. “Because the virus was spreading and people were losing their shit and my family knew that my only chance at staying alive was to get out while I could. I did it because I knew they were right. Because I respected their wishes. And if I didn’t go back into that hell for my own family, you can damn sure bet I’m not going back for yours.”
He sat back, somewhat surprised at himself, breathing as heavily as if he’d run a sprint.
Ray spoke up. “There might be a way to do it,” he said.
“Might be a way to do what?” Artem growled, not even favoring his first officer with a glance.
“To drop people off if we wanted to,” Ray said. “It wouldn’t have to be all of us. The people who want to get off the boat and return to the mainland could do it, and the rest of you could stay here.”
“The rest of us?” Now Artem looked at Ray, eyes narrowed. “I know you’re not thinking about leaving this boat, Ray.”
Ray looked uncomfortable. “My mother’s out there, Artem.”
“Did you not hear what the kid just said?” Artem gestured at Adam. “She’s probably dead. Everyone’s probably dead.”
“Don’t say that!” Krista said.
“Wake up,” Artem snapped. “We are in the only safe place left. We would be out of our minds to go back to the mainland. As long as I’m captain of this ship, we’re not going to do it. It’s absolutely out of the question.”
Max turned to Cody. “What do you think?”
Adam thought his friend looked very shaken. Perhaps it had been the news about Adam’s mother and Gerard. As far as he knew, Cody hadn’t lost anyone he had known personally to the nanovirus yet. Maybe he was having the same shock now that Krista had experienced earlier, realizing that they could all be affected in ways they hadn’t anticipated.
But his reaction was just the opposite.
“Artem is right,” Cody said. He was pale, but his voice was steady. “We can’t go back. We can’t go anywhere near the mainland, not with the way that thing is spreading. We’ll all get ourselves infected.”
“I have to find my family,” Krista insisted.
“You won’t find them,” Cody said. “Even if they’re alive, by some miracle, you won’t be able to get to them. You heard what they
were saying on the news. There’s looting, and the hospitals are hot zones for infection. The morgues are shut down. The whole city’s a mess. You go ten feet in and you’ll get yourself infected.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Duane demanded. “Do we just stay out here on this boat forever? That’s delusional. We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Cody asked. “We’ve been doing just fine so far, haven’t we? Okay, maybe we haven’t been taking the situation as seriously as we should have, but we will now.”
Artem frowned, and Adam got the sense he hadn’t been prepared to be on the same side of the argument as Cody. Still, he nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “We’re much better off out here than we would be on the mainland.”
“How long can we even survive on this boat?” Max asked.
Nobody answered. The question hung in the air.
And a thought came to Adam. Their resources weren’t infinite. They could last quite a while on this luxurious craft, but eventually things would start to run out. Supplies would dwindle. And it was a simple fact that the fewer of them there were aboard, the longer things would last.
He hated himself for even thinking it. They couldn’t turn any of their number off the boat, make them face the dangers of the shore, just for the sake of prolonging their own survival. Even with half of them wanting to disembark, it made his conscience queasy. He swallowed the idea before he could give voice to it. Much as he disliked Duane and Max, he didn’t want to be party to their death sentence.
“What we need to do,” Artem said, “is to head away from the mainland, not toward it. We need to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and any of the infected. We might not last forever on this boat, but we won’t last five minutes on land. The air’s got to be thick with nanovirus by now.”
Escape The Dark (Book 1): Dark Tides Page 6