For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (40 page)

‘I
don’t know,’ I whispered to the others; then slightly louder, ‘Gordon?’

There
was no response. I inched my way forward, and put a hand on the door; then an
ear. I called out a second time, louder than before. ‘Gordon?’

Something hit the other side of the door hard enough to make it shudder; I leapt
away. ‘Are you sure an infected couldn’t have made it up here?’

Mitch
nodded. ‘I’m certain. They’d never make it up the rocks. If they could do that,
they’d have been able to climb over the barricades in Tobermory, and that never
happened.’

Daz
glanced at me. ‘What if he’s been tied up an’ gagged or somethin’.’

‘Only
one way to find out.’ I reached out, grabbing the handle and twisting it before
pushing the door open. ‘Gordon, is that you?’

There
was a snarl as an arm shot through the gap between the door and its frame, and a
bloodstained hand fastened onto my wrist. Instinctively, I pulled the door back
towards me as hard as I could, but despite using all my weight, I couldn’t get
it closed again. I felt the infected tighten its grip and start to drag me
towards the gap. I dropped the spotlight and tried to prize its fingers off,
while my attacker did its best to wrench the door open with its other hand.

Suddenly, Daz was beside me, kicking out at the arm; I heard bones shatter, yet
still the infected held on. Daz kicked again and again until finally I was
released, but its arm remained sticking through the gap between the door and the
frame as the infected fought to get it open from the inside. I held onto the
handle with both hands and leaned back, doing my best to stop it succeeding.

‘When
I say, let go of the door.’ I turned to see Mitch standing beside me, a large
rock raised above her head.

I
stared at her, incredulously. ‘You mean let it out?’

‘Yes.
I should be able to get it as comes through the door.’

‘You
sure?’ Daz had backed off and was standing a few feet behind me. ‘Have you seen
how fast they can move?’

Mitch
shifted her grip on the rock. ‘I don’t see what other option we have: we can’t
get the door closed again, not with its arm sticking out; we can’t stay here
holding on to the door forever; and if we let go and try to run, then it’ll
definitely get us.’

The
door shuddered and shook as the infected tried to force its way through, and
with my strength already fading, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on much
longer: Mitch’s plan, risky as it might be, was the only thing we could do.

‘Okay.
On the count of three: one, two.’ I took a deep breath.

‘WAIT!’ Daz’s outcry almost caused Mitch to drop the rock.

‘What?’ I hissed.

‘What
if there’s more than one in there?’ He hissed back.

‘Trust
me, there’s only one.’ The door trembled as the infected clawed at the gap
between the door and its frame.

Daz
looked petrified. ‘How d’you know?’

‘Because if there were more, they’d have got the door open by now!’ I glanced at
Mitch, she nodded. ‘Three!’

I let
go of the handle and threw myself away from the door as a large, muscular man
wrenched it open and bolted forward: mouth open; teeth bared. Mitch swung the
rock, catching him on the shoulder and sending him sprawling to the ground. As
he struggled to right himself, Mitch raised the rock again, this time finding
her mark and I heard his skull crunch beneath its weight. Finally, he was still.
Leaving the now bloodied rock where it had come to rest, she straightened up,
breathing heavily. ‘I told you it would work.’

‘Just
as well …’ I replied, relieved that Mitch’s plan hadn’t gone horribly wrong. I
picked up the spotlight and ventured towards the door, wondering how an infected
had got in there in the first place. I flashed the light around the small room
at the base of the lighthouse, blood was splattered across the walls and the
floor, while the air was fetid and smelt of death. Holding a hand over my mouth
and nose, I stepped further inside. Behind the door, I spotted what, at first
glance, I though was just a pile of old rags, but approaching it, I realised it
was all that was left of a body. Swallowing hard, I knelt beside it and examined
it closely: the infected had torn it apart and it was almost unrecognisable, but
enough remained of the face that I could tell it was Gordon.

‘So
Nick wasn’t lyin’ when he said Gordon was killed by an infected.’ Daz was
looking over my shoulder as Mitch lingered by the door.

‘Yeah.’ I reached out and turned what was left of Gordon’s torso, ‘but it wasn’t
the whole truth either, look.’ His hands had been fastened behind his back with
a thick black cable tie.

‘Awww
fuck!’ Daz kept his eyes trained on Gordon’s body as he spoke. ‘What do we do
now?’

‘There’s nothing we can do, not for Gordon at any rate.’ I could feel myself
starting to hyperventilate and despite the smell, I forced myself to take a
slow, deep breath. ‘But we need to get out of here; we need to get up to Rhum
and get the others away from there as soon as we can.’

 As I
turned to leave, I spotted a small metal tube with a tuft of yellow fibrous
material protruding from one end. I pulled the sleeve of my shirt over my hand
and carefully picked it up before sliding it into my pocket so I could examine
it properly later; if it was what I thought it was, it would do a lot to explain
what had happened to Gordon.

‘So,’
Daz turned the wheel to keep us pointing in the right direction, ‘what d’you
think went on back there?’

We
were back on the boat and heading for Rhum. It would be a good few hours before
we got there and we had plenty of time to discuss what we’d just found.

‘I
think there’s little doubt that Nick killed him.’ I stared out into the
darkness. ‘I don’t know how much the other marines know, but I don’t think he
could have done it alone.’

Mitch
was sitting opposite me in the cockpit. ‘But what I don’t understand is how they
could have got him in there with an infected. You saw how it went for us when we
tried to get in.’

‘Because they used this.’ I took an old rag from one of the deck lockers and
gingerly pulled the small metal tube out of my pocket, making sure I kept my
fingers well clear of its razor-sharp tip. Daz leant forward to pick it up, but
I stopped him. ‘Careful. If I’m right, that’s infected blood on the end of it.’

He
recoiled instantly. ‘What is it?’

I held
it up and ruffled my thumb across the yellow fibres. ‘It’s a tranquilizer dart:
the kind vets use to knock out large animals.’

Daz
frowned. ‘What’s that got to do with anythin’?’

I
examined it closely: it was about half an inch wide and five inches long, with a
thick hypodermic needle sticking out of one end. ‘I think they used it to knock
out the infected so they could put it in the room with Gordon. It’s the only way
they could have done it safely.’ I glanced across at Mitch. ‘It would also
explain why they waited around for so long; they wouldn’t have known how long it
would take for the infected to recover and they wouldn’t want there to be a
chance of Gordon getting away.’

Mitch
stared at the dart. ‘But why go to all that trouble?’

‘Think
about it; if they’d just shot him and we’d stumbled across Gordon’s body, then
we’d have known what they’d done.’ I stared at it. ‘This way, if he was ever
found, it would look like he’d been killed by an infected, just as they said.’

‘But
what about the cable tie?’ Daz was watching me closely, ‘is that no’ a bit of a
giveaway?’

I
carefully wrapped the dart in the rag and tucked it into a safe place beside the
helm, just in case we needed the evidence later. ‘My guess is they forgot about
it until it was too late, and when they realised, they couldn’t exactly go back
in and take it off.’

‘You
don’t think they saw me, do you?‘ Mitch was concerned. ‘You don’t think that’s
why they attacked Tobermory?’

I
rubbed my hand along the side of my face, feeling the thick beard which now grew
there. ‘There’s certainly a good chance that was part of it. But it could also
have just been good, old-fashioned revenge. Or maybe it was because we were the
only other group left and they knew we were unlikely to give into them. Other
than us, they’ve got pretty much everyone under their control now. They’re
saying it’s for protection, but I think there might be more to it than …’

A
thought popped into my head and it was so startling that it stopped me in my
tracks. If they’d managed to knock out one infected with a tranquillizer gun,
why couldn’t they have done it to others, too? Nick had made it clear in the bar
that he thought they were in charge and that everybody should be doing exactly
what they said. What if he’d worked out a way to persuade people he was right?
It was only after that night that we’d really started having problems with
communities being overrun, and we hadn’t worked out any possible way for the
infected to be getting to the islands on their own. What if someone had given
them a hand?

It
wasn’t unusual to see lone infected loitering near the shore on the mainland or
the islands they infested, and with a tranquilizer gun, the marines could easily
immobilise one. Once they’d done that, it would be simple enough to pick it up
and drop it into a community under cover of darkness. All they’d need to do then
was wait for it to recover and start attacking people; they could then ride in,
all guns blazing. It would be the perfect demonstration of why people needed
them, and why they should be allowed to take control. Once the marines had saved
the day, people would feel indebted to them, and would do what they said. It was
a simple strategy, yet the very idea of it was horrifying.

I
wondered if Nick had got the idea from Iona, because I was pretty sure he wasn’t
behind that attack, but the others after that, the ones we’d had so much
difficulty trying to explain, they all fitted with the pattern rapidly
coalescing in my mind.

Maybe
Gordon had been getting suspicious, and that’s why he’d had to die; or maybe
he’d simply out-lived his usefulness. It was Gordon’s friendliness and
leadership that persuaded people to leave their homes and move to Rhum; not
Nick’s strong-arm tactics. Now all the other communities had been forced to move
there by the infected, and Tobermory had been destroyed, maybe Nick felt he
didn’t need him anymore. If that was the case, things on Rhum were likely to
take a turn for the worse with a man like that in charge. It wouldn’t be a
democracy, it would be a dictatorship, with Nick reigning supreme, while the
other marines took their places in the upper echelons: everyone else would be
treated little better than slaves.

If I
was right, and still I wasn’t yet certain of that, then we were in real trouble,
because the last thing Nick would want would be us turning up at Rhum, trying to
take Claire, Tom and Sophie back to Tobermory. There was just too much evidence
there of what they’d done, and they had too great a need for Claire and her
medical skills if they wanted to survive in the long term.

Chapter
Nineteen

‘Are
we agreed that this is the best plan?’ I looked at Daz and Mitch, and they both
nodded. I examined my watch and then the sails. ‘We’ll reach Rhum in about
twenty minutes. Are you both clear about what we’re going to do?’

They
nodded again.

‘Any
questions?’

Daz
moved nervously on his seat in the cockpit. ‘You think this’ll work?’

I
avoided giving a straight answer. ‘I think it’s the best chance we have.’

‘That’s no’ really answerin’ the question, Ben.’ Daz glared at me. ‘Is it?’

‘If
we’re careful, yes, I think it’ll work.’ I picked at my nails. ‘The biggest
question’s what they’re going to do once they find out we’re gone.’

Mitch
stood up and stretched her back. ‘What d’you think they’ll do?’

‘My
guess?’ I chewed on the inside of my lower lip. ‘They’ll come after us, but
they’re going to assume we’re heading for Tobermory: that should give us enough
time to get away.’

Daz
stared down at his feet. ‘If we’re no’ goin’ back to Tobermory, where are we
goin’?’

I
shook my head. ‘I don’t know. Somewhere north would be best; see if we can find
somewhere that’s beyond their reach.’

We’d
delayed our arrival as long as we dared. It would need to be dark before we
tried to make our escape, and the less time we spent on the island, the less
time there’d be for our plan to be discovered. We finally pulled into the bay in
front of the Big House just before five in the afternoon, with Mitch taking care
to keep out of sight: our plan would only work if they didn’t suspect that Daz
and I knew about what had happened in Tobermory. Even before we’d dropped
anchor, one of the ribs was speeding from the shore towards us with Nick at the
controls, flanked by two other marines, both carrying their assault rifles.

Nick
smiled as he pulled up alongside. ‘Glad to see you made it. We were beginning to
wonder where you’d got to.’ While his voice was calm, there was an edge to it
and his expression was forced.