For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (44 page)

Sophie
didn’t move.

‘Sophie! Life jackets!’

The
order seemed to break through her sorrow, and she looked round as if seeing us
all for the first time.

I
knelt down beside her. ‘Sophie, we’re sinking; you need to get the life
jackets.’

She
stared at me blankly for a moment before the realisation of what was happening
struck home, and she leapt into action.

Within
minutes, the large hexagonal life raft was floating alongside the rapidly
sinking yacht and we were loading it with as many supplies as we could. Daz
helped Sophie into it, before he followed and then Mitch climbed in. I took one
last look round, seeing if there was anything else useful I could grab. That was
when it occurred to me that the fishing lines might prove invaluable. I opened
the deck locker and grabbed the first one I saw. As the boat started to slip
beneath the waves, I threw it across to Daz before lunging into the life raft,
just as the yacht finally disappeared in a swirl of inky black water.

***

‘What’re we going to do?’ Fear and despair were etched deep into Sophie’s face.

We’d
been in the life raft for three days, enclosed by the orange, tent-like sides
which came to a point above our heads, unable to do more than drift with the
winds and the currents. I had a rough idea of where we were, but little more
than that. We were already running low on food and water, and the constant
movement of the thin rubber floor of the raft meant we felt sick most of the
time. Ever since the yacht had sunk, I’d been wracking my brains, trying to work
out what to do, but I could think of nothing.

After
what had happened to her mother, I couldn’t look at Sophie; I couldn’t look at
Mitch, either: I’d yet to explain to her what had happened to Tom, and I still
wasn’t ready to say out loud what I’d witnessed in the woods, and how I’d been
unable to do anything to save him.

I
slept fitfully from time to time, but I usually woke feeling worse than when I’d
fallen asleep. It was the dreams; whenever I closed my eyes I saw vivid
fragments of everything that had happened: Iliana’s head exploding; Jake on the
bench in the cockpit as his life drained away; Hamish’s body floating face down
in the harbour at Tobermory; what was left of Gordon lying in the darkness of
the lighthouse; Tom being torn apart by the infected in the pit; and Claire
sitting on the beach, waiting for the inevitable, as we left her behind.

For a
brief time, we’d had people around us, we’d had a plan, and I could see a way of
surviving in a world which, only a few weeks ago, I could barely have imagined.
Now we had nothing. There were just the four of us, trapped in the life raft, at
the mercy of the tides and the elements. Eventually, we’d either drift out into
the open ocean or onto the shore, and I didn’t know which was worse. The land
had infected, but they weren’t everywhere; we might get lucky and wash up
somewhere uninhabited, but then again we might not. In the open ocean, there was
no chance of encountering any infected, but there was also no chance of life,
not in the long term. We might last weeks, maybe even months, but eventually
death would creep up on us, taking us one by one as the others could do nothing
but watch.

When
we’d had the yacht, we’d at least had a chance, but now I couldn’t help but feel
the final roll of the dice had been cast: we just didn’t yet know if we’d got
lucky or not. I thought back to the morning the outbreak had started in Glasgow,
how the problems in Miami had seemed so far away. Now Tom was dead and the
yacht, my home for the last five years, was gone, I’d lost my last connections
to the world as it was before. I felt the final separation as deeply as if it
had torn my soul in two. It was the last straw, and one from which I felt I
might never recover.

I knew
Sophie was still waiting for an answer to her question, but I didn’t have one.
I’d promised Claire that I’d look after her, that I’d protect her, but now I was
powerless to do anything. All I could do was sit in the twelve square feet of
rubber and stale air that was now our home; existing rather than living, waiting
to see what further horrors life had to throw at us in the frightening new world
we found ourselves thrust into with little warning or preparation. I wondered
why it had all happened. Why had the biotech company pushed ahead with the
vaccine trial when its technology was still unproven? Why hadn’t they foreseen
the consequences? I’d never know. But whatever the reason, it was humanity that
had paid the ultimate price.

A
shout from Daz brought me back to the present. He’d raised the flap on the side
of the life raft to let in some fresh air and was now staring through it.
‘There’s land right beside us!’

The
currents must have finally carried us close to shore, yet we still didn’t know
if this was good news or bad. I lay there, unmoving, finding it difficult to
care one way or the other. The world was now ruled by the infected and there was
nothing I could do about it. That was when I realised I’d finally given up.
After weeks of fighting to stay alive, I was physically and emotionally spent. I
no longer cared if I lived or died.

I
heard Mitch scramble onto her knees and move over to the opening. ‘Ben, I know
this island: it’s Soay. No one lives here; not anymore.’ She bent over the side
and started paddling frantically with her hands. ‘It’s close; really close:
maybe a hundred yards at the most. Ben, I think we can make it.’ She stopped for
a moment and turned to the rest of us. ‘Come on!’

First
Daz, then Sophie joined her, and I could hear their arms splashing through the
water, throwing spray against the side of the life raft. Yet, still I couldn’t
bring myself to act. Instead, I closed my eyes and lay there, unable to move.

‘Ben,
come and help!’ Sophie paused and I realised she’d stopped paddling. ‘Ben?’ She
sounded concerned.

The
next voice I heard was Mitch’s. ‘Don’t just lie there, Ben. You need to help us.
We won’t make it if you don’t.’ I heard her shuffle across the life raft. ‘Ben?’

Still
I didn’t move; I couldn’t.

‘Ben,
are you okay?’ Daz had stopped paddling, too.

I felt
Sophie’s small hand on my shoulder. ‘Ben, we need your help. We can’t make it to
shore without you.’

I
opened my eyes and saw them all looking down at me, worried expressions on their
faces. I thought about Tom, and what he’d say to me if he was still here, and I
realised I couldn’t let the infected win so easily. I held out my hand. Daz
grabbed it and pulled me up.

I
looked at him, barely recognising the skinny teenager I’d met only a few weeks
before. ‘Thanks.’ I turned to the others. ‘All of you.’ I stared towards the
nearby island, a steely determination now burning within me. ‘Let’s do this.’

Together, we scrambled to the side and, with all the strength we had left, we
paddled furiously. I watched the island gradually draw closer and closer, and
for the first time in days, I smiled. Soon, I knew, we’d be safe, at least for
the time being.

About the
Author:

Colin M. Drysdale
has worked as a marine biologist for almost twenty years. During this time, he
has travelled extensively and spent much of his professional career on or near
the sea. He is also a keen sailor and has sailed in Scotland, the Bahamas,
Florida, Newfoundland and Labrador.

When writing
The
Outbreak
, he drew on his experiences both of living in Glasgow, where the
novel starts, and from sailing amongst the islands of north-west Scotland. This
allowed the story to be tightly woven into the landscapes in which it is set.

He now lives in his
native Glasgow, where he runs a small business providing mapping advice to
ecologists and marine biologists. While he is the author of countless academic
papers and a number of technical books, this is only his second novel. He is
currently working on the third book in the
For those in Peril
series,
which will bring together the characters from the first two books. This is
scheduled for publication in summer 2015.

If you would like
find out more about the world of
The Outbreak
, and the
For those in
Peril
series in general, visit:

TheOutbreak.ForThoseInPeril.net