‘What
d’you mean?’ Daz sounded confused.
I
yelled at him. ‘Get those lines off. Now!’
‘Why?’
Daz’s eyes darted around frantically until they settled on Bob, who was wildly
swinging a winch handle at the first infected as it climbed over his guard rail.
‘Shit! What d’we do?’
‘Untie
the lines holding us to the other boats!’ I screamed, then changed my mind. ‘No.
Forget it! We don’t have time.’ I grabbed the small hatchet I kept strapped to
the helm in case I ever had to cut any ropes in a hurry, and leapt forward,
slicing through each line in turn. Almost immediately, the currents started to
move us away from the other boats, and it was just enough to keep us out of
reach of the infected. We watched helplessly as those left alive struggled with
the infected, but it was clear they weren’t going to win.
Daz
shivered with fear. ‘What now?’
‘I
don’t know, but we can’t stay here.’ My eyes drifted across to where the other
boats were still tied together, their deck lights shining down, illuminating the
scene below: the fighting had stopped and the infected were feeding on those
they’d killed; the ones who hadn’t died had turned and were feasting alongside
them. I could see Bob tearing the flesh from the throat of a teenage boy,
leaving a gaping wound. Blood oozed slowly from it, adding to the congealing
pools that were already seeping across his deck and soaking deep into the wood.
‘Yeah.’ Tom shuddered as two of the infected snarled and growled at each other
as they fought over the body of a little girl. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘What
are we going to do about the navy?’ For the first time since I’d met her, Claire
sounded really scared. ‘If we move, they’ll think we’re trying to get away.’
‘We’ll
just have to explain what happened and hope they understand, but we can’t stay
here. At the moment, the tide’s keeping us away from the other boats, but when
it turns, it’s going to push us back up against them.’ I glanced at my watch,
‘and that’s going to happen in about ten minutes.’
‘But
how’re we goin’ to let them know?’ There was concern in Daz’s voice.
‘I
don’t know.’ If Bob had been right, they wouldn’t respond to a radio call. I
wondered how else we might be able to alert them, yet every alternative I could
come up with required it to be daytime so they could see us. I glanced nervously
at the other boats. The infected could sense our presence and some were already
pacing along the nearest guard rail, searching the darkness, as they tried to
work out where we were. ‘But we can’t stay here; we need to move away.’
‘Are
you sure that’s goin’ to be okay?’ Daz shifted back and forth nervously. ‘You
know, with them navy guys?’
Before
I could answer, there was the sound of a distant explosion and a fireball leapt
into the night’s sky somewhere to our south.
‘What
the hell’s that?’ Tom had sprung to his feet and was standing on his tip toes,
trying to get a closer look.
‘I
don’t know, but ...’ I stopped when a thought occurred to me. The only thing I’d
seen in that direction was the frigate, but surely it couldn’t be that, could
it? I turned round to find everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to finish
what I was saying. I wasn’t ready to tell them what I thought: there was no
point until I knew whether I was right or not. ‘I think we need to go and check
that out.’
‘What
if they catch us?’ Sophie was white as a sheet, and clearly terrified, not only
by what had just happened, but also by what might happen next.
My
eyes returned to the flames leaping high into the distant sky. ‘I don’t think
they will.’
The
sun was creeping over the eastern horizon as we neared the source of the
explosion. It revealed the frigate, flames leaping high into the air from its
bow. At the other end, we could see huddled groups of figures battling each
other. The fighting was intense and brutal, and I had little doubt that we were
seeing the last of the sailors trying to fight off the advancing infected who
had once been their colleagues.
Daz
stood beside me, his eyes wide with shock. ‘What d’you think happened to it?’
Before
I could reply, there was a shout.
‘Ben!’
Tom was staring not at the frigate, but at a point a short distance ahead of our
boat. ‘There’s something in the water.’
‘Where?’ I scanned the sea, searching for what he’d seen.
Tom
craned his neck, trying to get another glimpse of what he’d seen. ‘It seems to
have gone.’
‘No, I
see it, too!’ Daz was leaning over the right hand guard rail. ‘It looks like
there’s someone in the water.’
‘I
can’t see them.’ I weaved my head from side to side. ‘Where exactly?’
‘There!’ Daz was pointing frantically at the water just ahead of the boat and
finally I saw him: a man, his head being kept above the water by the life jacket
he was wearing. Yet, something didn’t quite seem right.
Claire
cried out. ‘Quick, we’ve got to get him on board!’
Daz
ran forward to where the man was just coming alongside the boat, with Tom
following after. As they were reaching through the guard rails, hanging as far
over the side as they could to try to grab the back of his life jacket, two
things happened almost instantaneously: first, I realised the man had a deep
bite mark on the side of his face; second, he began to thrash frantically just
as Daz got a hand on to his shoulder.
‘No!
Daz, don’t!’ Too late, I’d finally put two and two together. ‘He’s infected!’
Tom
reacted instantly, struggling to get away from the man’s grasping hands, but Daz
was slower and the infected marine grabbed onto his outstretched arm. Daz
screamed as he started to slip towards the water. I scooped up one of the
boathooks and shouted. ‘Tom!’
Tom
deftly caught the boathook and leant over the side, swinging it wildly from side
to side. I heard it make contact with something, and Daz yelped in pain. Tom
swung again, this time he must have hit his target because a second later Daz
was wriggling his way back onto the deck.
‘Fuck,
that was close!’ He lay there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to
catch his breath, before pulling back his sleeve and inspecting his arm closely
for any sign that he’d been injured by the infected. Once he was satisfied he
was unhurt, Daz sat up and looked at Tom, who was still standing over him.
‘Thanks. For a minute there, I was sure I wasn’t goin’ to make it!’
Tom
ignored him, and instead slumped on to the top of the cabin, holding his right
side, his face contorted with pain. Between his fingers, I could see blood
starting to seep through his shirt. Claire must have seen it, too, because she
ran forward and helped Tom back to the cockpit, where she started to examine
him.
Daz
pulled himself to his feet and adjusted his clothes. ‘What the hell’s goin’ on?’
‘I
think the frigate’s been overrun; I think that’s why it’s on fire. He must have
fallen into the water after he was infected; we’ll need to keep an eye out for
oth ...’
Before
I could finish, Sophie shouted: ‘There’s another one!’
We all
turned towards where she was pointing and sure enough there was another man
floating in the water; despite the fact he was infected and clearly couldn’t
swim, his life jacket was keeping him alive.
‘And
another!’ By the time Daz cried out, we were sailing through what seemed like a
sea of infected sailors and marines, all kept afloat by life jackets. We could
hear them growling and snarling as they clawed and hammered at the side of the
boat, trying desperately to get on board. The sides were slick and the gunnels
well out of their reach, but still, in the dimness of the early morning light,
it was a terrifying sight.
While
the others stared at the infected, transfixed by their frantic, but fruitless,
efforts to get on board, I looked ahead to the frigate itself. We were much
closer now and I could see only one group still fighting: they were holding a
position towards the stern where two black ribs were being lowered towards the
water. Back on deck, I saw an orange tongue of fire engulf all the infected
within thirty feet of the few who remained unturned. Despite the fact that the
nearest were instantly incinerated, the rest of the infected still pushed
forward. It took me a few seconds to realise the survivors must be using
flame-throwers to keep their attackers at bay, and buy them enough time to get
the ribs into the sea. Another ball of fire leapt towards the infected, but
again it had little impact beyond frying the nearest ones to a crisp; they were
immediately replaced by more.
As
soon as the ribs were safely in the water, the last of the men clambered down
the wires attaching them to the boat, the large packs of the flame-throwers
visible on their backs. The moment their feet touched down, the wires were
released and the ribs sped away from the burning frigate. Soon, they’d
disappeared from sight and we were left watching the decimated vessel as it
continued to burn.
Daz
stared, aghast. ‘How d’you think the infection got on board?’
Claire
looked up from where she had just finished tending to Tom. ‘Remember how that
man they’d dropped off yesterday had been fighting with one of the marines? He
scratched the marine’s face: I’m guessing he was a carrier.’
Daz
frowned. ‘What’s a carrier?
Claire
explained it to him. ‘It’s someone who’s been infected, but hasn’t started
showing any symptoms yet. It’s common in quite a lot of diseases. Carriers can
still infect other people, but they can look completely normal; they might have
been attacked and thought they’d got away unscathed; it’s even possible that
they don’t even realise they have the disease, not until they start to turn.’
I shot
Claire a glance. ‘How long would that take?’
She
shrugged. ‘I don’t know. With this disease, I’m guessing a few hours; maybe a
day at the most.’
Sophie
scratched her head. ‘Why do some people end up being carriers, but others turn
right away?’
Claire
shrugged again. ‘It could be any number of things. It might be that some people
just have better immune systems and they manage to hold the disease off for
longer; it might be to do with how badly they’re injured by an infected — a
small injury might mean the initial viral load is lower, and that it might take
longer to build up to a high enough level in their blood system to overwhelm
them; it might even depend on where they’re injured by the infected; it’s
possible that it takes longer to affect you if you’re bitten on your ankle than
on your neck.’
What
Claire said made a lot of sense. If the young man had been a carrier, he’d have
infected the marine without anyone realising. The man himself hadn’t turned
until late in the night, and the marine had presumably done the same. Once he’d
turned, there’d have been little chance any of them would be able to escape, not
in the confines of the ship, and it would have spread like wildfire. It was
amazing any of them managed to get away unscathed.
‘At
least we’re free to leave now. Sorry, that came out wrong.’ Claire took a moment
to marshal her thoughts. ‘What I meant was, despite everything, at least we’re
still alive; at least we’ve got a way out. It’s not much, but it’s something.’
She hesitated briefly. ‘And I really need something to hold onto at the moment,
otherwise I’m going to lose it.’
She
glanced over to where Sophie and Daz were still staring at the burning ship. She
spoke quietly. ‘I’ve got to keep it together for her. I know she’s trying to act
all tough, but inside she’s petrified by all this, and I don’t blame her; I’m
just as terrified as she is. I mean, how on earth are we going to survive? Where
are we going to go?’
I
turned to Claire and saw she was close to tears. Tom and I exchanged
uncomfortable glances: even though the world as we knew it was rapidly falling
apart all around us, like most men, we still didn’t know quite what to do when
faced with a crying woman. I’d assumed Claire was doing okay, but now I realised
how much it was just a front she was putting on for the sake of Sophie. Inside,
she was as scared as the rest of us.
I took
a deep breath. ‘Now we can get out of the Clyde, I think we have a chance.’ Both
Tom and Claire looked at me disbelievingly, but I carried on. ‘No, I mean it. I
was thinking about this last night. There are lots of islands out there where
there aren’t any people; they’ve been deserted for years, decades even. No
people means no infected.’
‘But
what happens if they get there?’ Claire still sounded upset. ‘I mean look at
that island you were on the other day? The infected got there, didn’t they?’
‘That’s different. They were carried there from Glasgow because that was only a
few miles away. If we can get out to the islands further west, they’re miles
from anywhere. It’s like Bob said about St Kilda, there’s no chance of infected
getting all the way out there. If there’s anywhere we can avoid them, it’s out
there.’
‘I
thought we were heading south?’ Tom stood up and stared off into the distance.
‘You know, get beyond Hadrian’s Wall where we can go ashore. They seem to be
holding back the infected so far.’