For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (43 page)

Back
at the Big House, Nick was nowhere in sight, but people were running in every
direction. Then Daz appeared in the main doorway, with Claire and Sophie close
behind. The sight of them standing there, eyes moving back and forth as they
tried to work out what was going on, brought me back to my senses: Tom was gone,
there was no point in trying to seek revenge. He’d already seen to it that Nick
was finished anyway. Instead, I needed to concentrate on getting the others back
to the safety of the boat and then away from the island. I glanced at my watch,
it was now ten minutes to midnight, and we needed to get down to the beach as
quickly as possible to meet Mitch.

Then I
realised that it wasn’t just people who were running, there were infected, too:
Nick must have turned and attacked others. Suddenly, our escape was much harder
and more vital than ever.

‘Daz!’
I shouted and waved. ‘Over here!’

Relief
spread across his face and he ran forward, dodging between people and jumping
over a body which lay bleeding on the ground. Behind him, Sophie screamed as the
body reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling it towards its mouth. In an
instant, Claire threw herself on the newly turned infected, punching and kicking
it. It dropped Sophie’s leg and turned its attention to Claire. For what seemed
like a lifetime, but must have only been seconds, they struggled before Daz
stepped forward and kicked the infected as hard as he could in the head, sending
it spinning across the ground. Claire leapt to her feet and grabbed Sophie.
‘Let’s go!’

She
ran forward, Sophie stumbling behind her. Daz and I followed, and within minutes
we were on the beach. The dinghy was where it was meant to be, but there was no
sign of Mitch. I stared nervously into the darkness, wondering where she’d gone.
I could hear the snarls of infected mixed with panicked screams and the sound of
automatic gunfire echoing around the bay.

Suddenly, a figure raced out of the darkness. Daz stepped forward, clutching a
heavy lump of driftwood he’d hurriedly grabbed from the beach. Then the figure
came within striking distance, I realised who it was. ‘Daz, it’s Mitch!’

He let
out a relieved sigh. ‘Where the hell’ve you been?’

‘Just
making sure they can’t follow us.’ She tucked a knife from the galley carefully
into her jacket pocket. ‘What’s going on up at the house? Have they realised
you’re trying to get away?’

‘Infected!’ I hissed, hearing the fear in my own voice. ‘We need to get out of
here.’

‘Where
did they come from?’ Mitch glanced round, horrified. ‘Where’s Tom?’

‘Mitch,’ I fought back the tears I could feel building inside me, ‘Tom didn’t
make it.’

‘What
happened?’ Mitch asked, shocked and dismayed.

From
behind us came the sound of running and three marines emerged from the darkness,
firing over their shoulders, before heading in the direction of the ribs. I
watched them disappear. ‘I’ll tell you later, we need to get out of here!’

Wasting no time, Claire and I pushed the dinghy into the water as the others
climbed in. By the time we were in waist-deep, Daz had the engine started and I
signalled to Claire to climb in.

She
looked away, avoiding my eyes. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to go without
me.’

Sophie
stared at her. ‘Mum, what’re you talking about?’ She grabbed Claire’s arm and
pulled. ‘Just get in.’

Claire
resisted. Sophie tried again, this time pleading with her, not understanding
what was going on. ‘Mum, please, before the infected get here, before they get
you.’

‘No.’
She said it so quietly, I barely heard it above the commotion going on behind
her. Claire pulled the neck of her jumper aside. ‘I’m sorry, honey. They got me,
already.’

The
blood drained from Sophie’s face as she stared at the wound. ‘Wh—? When did that
happen?’

‘I got
bitten back there.’

‘When
you pulled that infected off me? You … You mean it’s my fault?’

Claire
reached out for Sophie’s hands and held them in hers. ‘Honey, it’s not your
fault; it’s no one’s fault; it just happened.’

‘But
there must be something you can do?’ Sophie looked desperately at each of us in
turn. ’There must be something one of you can do. Please!’

Claire
stroked the side of her daughter’s face. ‘There’s nothing anyone can do, you
know that.’ Her eyes glistened as she did her best not to cry. ‘You need to
leave me here. You need to go. You know you do.’

Tears
welled in Sophie’s eyes, ‘But, Mum, you can’t. You can’t leave me. You promised.
You promised you’d never leave me. You’re all I’ve got left!’ she sobbed. ‘You
can’t be infected. I can’t lose you, too.’

‘But I
am; I can feel it.’ Claire put her arm round her daughter’s shoulder, pulling
her towards her and kissing her forehead. She held Sophie’s face in her hands,
wiping away her tears with her thumbs, and stared into her eyes. ‘Remember when
Dad was ill? Remember what we talked about then? About how someone’s never
really gone if you’ve still got them in here.’ She tapped the side of Sophie’s
head. ‘As long as you’ve still got memories, I’ll always be with you, no matter
what.’

I
glanced at Claire and saw tears streaming down her face. I swallowed. ‘Are you
sure you’re infected?’

‘Yes.’
Claire sniffed. ‘I’m certain. You’ve got to leave me here.’

For a
moment, we just stared at each other.

‘I
don’t have much time.’ There was an urgency in Claire’s voice. ‘You need to get
out of here. Now!’

I
pulled myself into the dinghy and turned to Claire, not quite knowing what to
say to her.

She
leaned forward and kissed Sophie on the top of her head one last time. Sophie
lunged towards her mother. ‘But you said you’d never leave me. You promised!’

Daz
pulled her back.

Claire
called out after us. ‘Just promise you’ll look after her for me.’

Daz
and I answered in unison. ‘I promise.’

As Daz
held Sophie, I grabbed the throttle and slammed the engine into gear. Within
seconds, we were skipping over the water back to the yacht. I glanced back to
where Claire was wading back to shore. When she got there, she sat down, waiting
for the inevitable to happen. Not wanting to watch, I turned away, barely able
to see through the tears which filled my eyes and rolled down my face.
Yesterday, it had seemed like we were doing so well, and in just a few short
hours it had all fallen apart: Tobermory was gone; Tom was dead; and Claire was
infected.

I was
pulled back to the moment by the sound of heavy machine gunfire. I turned and
saw tracer rounds streaking through the darkness towards the dinghy and felt the
spray as they landed in the water just to our left.

Instinctively, we crouched as low as we could despite the rubber sides of the
dinghy offering little protection.

Mitch
looked across at me. ‘I think they might’ve discovered what I did.’

Keeping as low as possible, I turned and searched the shoreline, trying to work
out where the shots were coming from. ‘What was that?’

‘I
slashed the ribs so they wouldn’t be able to follow us.’ Mitch looked guilty.
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’

There
was another burst of gunfire followed by a shout in a scared voice I didn’t
recognise. ‘Come back! You’ve got to take us with you. You can’t leave us here.’
Then, with more anger than fear, ‘We won’t let you leave without us.’

By
this time we’d reach the yacht and had climbed on board. I set Daz to work
lifting the anchor as Mitch and I readied the sails; Sophie sat in the cockpit
sobbing and hugging her knees tight against her chest.

There
was a cry from the bow. ‘It won’t budge. I think it’s …’

The
last of what Daz said was lost amongst the sound of another barrage from the
machine gun. I ran forward, leaving Mitch at the helm, but even with the two of
us pulling on it, we couldn’t get the anchor to move.

I
glanced at Daz. ‘Time for more drastic measures.’

I ran
back to the cockpit and down into the cabin where I rummaged frantically in my
tool kit. Grabbing my hacksaw, I climbed back onto the deck just as another
shout rang out from the shore. ‘Don’t leave us here, you bastards!’

When
they heard no reply, they fired again. This time the last of the bullets hit the
side of the yacht, sending fragments of fibreglass flying across the cabin. I
ran forward and thrust the hacksaw towards Daz. He wasted no time in grabbing it
and set to work on the chain while I returned to the cockpit.

There
was another burst of gunfire, this time ripping through the sails, leaving dark
circles in the white cloth.

‘You’re not going to leave without us. You’ve got to help us.’ The cries from
the shore now sounded desperate and panicked.

Then,
out of the darkness, came the sound of splashing. A second later, a hand
appeared over the left side of the boat, followed by an arm with a deep, red
wound carved across it, then the upper half of a body. I picked up the hatchet
from beside the helm, but before I could strike out, there was a shout from Daz
and I felt the boat finally start to move: I had no choice but to turn back to
the wheel. The injured marine managed to get his leg over the side just as the
next barrage of bullets hit, cutting his body in half and splintering the hull
along the waterline.

I
wondered how bad the damage was, but there was no time to investigate. I
tightened the sails and we finally began to move in earnest. Another round of
bullets smashed into the back of the boat, showering us with water and
fibreglass. I glanced back and saw the dinghy deflate and sink under the weight
of its outboard engine. Knowing it was now useless, I reached up and untied it
from its cleat. Daz returned to the cockpit and wrapped his arms protectively
around Sophie as I adjusted the sails, trying to wring every possible ounce of
speed from them, knowing it was all that stood between us and certain death.
Yet, finally, it felt like we had a chance.

After
ten minutes, we rounded the headland at the entrance of the bay and were finally
out of range of the machine gun. It didn’t matter, by then it had already fallen
silent as the last of the marines had been killed, or worse.

Leaving Mitch at the wheel, I went to inspect the damage. As soon as I entered
the cabin, I knew we were in trouble. The water was already several feet deep,
but it was unclear where it was coming in from. I swore loudly.

‘What’s wrong?’ Daz poked his head through the companionway, and his jaw
dropped. ‘Shit!’

I
scrambled back onto the deck and opened the hatch which led down to the engine.

Mitch
remained at the wheel, but she watched me closely, a worried look spreading
across her face. ‘Ben, what’s going on?’

‘I
don’t know yet.’ I stuck my head into the engine compartment and instantly
spotted the problem. There was a series of bullet holes below the waterline, and
water was pouring through them, but worse than that, there was a crack
connecting them which flexed with every movement of the boat, letting in
bucketfuls of water each time it opened up.

I
pulled my head out of the hatch and looked up at Daz and Mitch. ‘We’re in deep
trouble. The hull’s damaged and we’re taking in a lot of water, more than we can
cope with for longer than a few minutes.’

Mitch
stared at me, her eyebrows knitted with worry. ‘Can you fix it?’

I
could feel the panic building within me. ‘I can try, but there’s a hell of a lot
of water coming in.’

‘Well,
get goin’ then!’ Daz urged me on.

I ran
down into the cabin and waded through the water looking for anything which might
help. The first thing that came to mind was an old oilskin that had floated out
of one the lockers. I grabbed it and ran back outside. With Daz holding the
spotlight, I snaked my way into the engine compartment, and started forcing the
waterproof jacket into the crack each time it opened up. At first the amount of
water coming in slowed, but it put too much strain on the already weakened
fibreglass and, with a sound like a gunshot, the crack raced along the side of
the boat, sending a torrent of water streaming into the hull. I felt the boat
list and settle deeper into the sea with every passing second, and I knew there
was nothing we could do.

I
reached up my arms. ‘Help me out.’

Daz
and Mitch dragged me up through the hatch and we stood, staring at each other as
we felt the boat tip ever further to the left. Daz gasped as the first wave
washed over the side and spilled into the cockpit. ‘We’re goin’ down, aren’t
we?’

With
those words, the reality of our situation sank in. We were about to lose the
only thing which had kept us alive since the outbreak started, our only source
of transport and protection. How we’d survive without it, I didn’t know.

‘Daz,
we need to get the life raft into the water; Mitch, grab whatever food and water
you can from the cabin, Claire …’ I stopped abruptly as I remembered Claire was
no longer with us. I tried to ignore the pain that shot deep into my heart.
‘Sophie, grab the life jackets and make sure everyone has one on.’