Offshore (44 page)

“
I’m sorry, I’m really sorry ...” he wailed. “I am a coward.
I am. I tried to run away, to get away. I... I thought if I could
get up the derrick, to the crow’s nest, he wouldn’t find me. I just
wanted to get away... I was scared... I...”

He could
speak no more, his voice choked by a series of thick wet sobs, and
washed away by the uncontrollable scalding tears streaming down his
face, cutting clear wet trails through the scarlet stain on his
cheek.

Lydia
climbed onto the bed with him, took his bloodstained head against
her shoulder and cradled it while he cried, stroking his hair and
kissing his head, cooing words of comfort to him.

“
Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Eddie,
upset, embarrassed and cowed by both Cameron’s display of terrified
misery and Lydia’s show of affection for the broken man, stamped
from the room and down the corridor to the lounge as best the agony
in his ankle would allow.

Ten
minutes later Lydia came to join him, and almost caught him wiping
his own wet face with the sleeve of his overalls.

She put
her arms round his waist and laid her head against his chest,
hugging him hard, the pressure causing a deep burning pain in his
bruised ribs.

“
So what’s his story?’ Eddie said. “Did he give a good
account of himself?’

She
released the hug. “That’s unfair Eddie. He’s in a bad
way.’

“
Did he tell you Matt’s dead?’

“
Yes.” Pause. “You can’t really blame him for running away.
He couldn’t help himself. What happened to Matt, it tipped him over
the edge. He was petrified out of his wits; he still is. We all
are.”

“
I know.’ Eddie pulled her into the hug again and kissed her
still damp hair. “So, about Cam, what’s the damage?”

Lydia sighed heavily against him. “He’s a mess. Brewer shot
him, you know; three times, with a nail gun. I had no idea they
could be so powerful. The wound in his hand is nothing more than a
superficial gouge. It might not even leave a scar. The nail in his
arm didn’t go too far in and I managed to pull it out without too
much trouble. It should be okay. The one I’m worried about is stuck
in his thigh. It’s deep in. I think it’s touching the bone, maybe a
nerve. I
might
be able to get it out, but it would mean extra cutting and
no guarantee I won’t do more damage along the way. I’m not
qualified for that sort of thing. In one way though he was
lucky.”

“
How so?”

“
When he fell off the tower, the derrick, he landed on the
roof of the little huttie thing underneath. It’s falling to bits
and he went straight through it.”

Eddie
let out a small, nervous laugh.

“
It’s not funny, Eddie. He could have been
killed.”

“
I wasn’t laughing at Cam, I was laughing at what you said.
The ‘little huttie thing’ as you called it is what is
affectionately known as the doghouse. Apt don’t you
think?”

“
Whatever it’s called, it saved his life. It broke his fall.
If he’d been a few feet out he would have hit the deck full on, and
he would have been killed outright. As it is he picked up a serious
head wound. There’s a deep laceration, that’s where all the blood
was coming from, and he might have a hairline skull fracture too; I
can’t tell without an x-ray.”

“
Can you stitch him up here?”

“
I could, but he won’t let me. All I can do is keep a close
eye on him in case he develops a concussion.”

“
What about his eye? It looks nasty.”

She
dropped her voice to the smallest whisper. “It is.”

The look on her face told him all he needed to know - in
her professional opinion Cameron would be lucky if he didn’t lose
the sight in that eye. If he was really
un
lucky, he could lose the entire
eye.

“
Is he in a lot of pain?” said Eddie.

“
He has to be, but he’s trying not to let it
show.”

Eddie
felt an unpleasant lurch in his stomach, a gripe of deep,
unyielding guilt and shame. “Holy shit.”

Lydia
pressed herself closer against him. “It’s not your fault,
Eddie.”

“
No - it’s Brewer’s.”

She felt
a shudder run through him. He was just about holding himself
together, acting the tough guy for her benefit, but she knew full
well he could break down without a second’s notice. She knew this
because she was about to do the same.

“
He is dead, isn’t he? Brewer? It’s really over?” she said,
seeking strength in confirmation.

“
Yeah, it’s over. He’s gone.”

“
What do you think happened to him to make him go psycho
like that? Was it this place? Something we did?”

Would
she ever believe there had been some kind of malevolent, flesh
eating, shape shifting otherworldly creature lurking behind the
benevolent mask of good old Larry Brewer? He didn’t, and he’d seen
it for himself.

Eddie
shook his head and lied to her again. “I have no idea, and I really
don’t give a damn as long as he’s dead.” He cupped her chin in his
hand and lifted her face. “How about you, you okay?”

“
Better now you and Duncan are here. Did you get through to
shore?”

“
No. There was no radio in the control room and I didn’t get
as far as the lifeboats.”

“
So there’ll be no chopper?”

“
No, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve decided we’ll be taking one
of the lifeboats instead. Even if I called the chopper now they
wouldn’t come straight away, not with the bad weather. Even the
lifeboat would struggle, and how would we get down to it. No, we’re
not staying here a minute longer than we have to, so we’ll take our
chances in a duck.” Feeling suddenly very tired, he rubbed his
hands over his face, and a bolt from his ankle made him
wince.

“
You’re in pain,” she said. “Your ankle?”

“
It’s nothing.”

“
Sit down and let me see.”

“
Not now. It’s just a sprain. It’s not too bad. If I can use
you as a crutch, I’ll come back with you and apologise to
Cam.”

“
Thanks. I think he’d appreciate it.”

Using
Lydia for support Eddie hobbled his way back to his cabin, to fall
into the chair with a deep sigh. His swollen ankle burned like a
bugger inside a boot which now felt uncomfortably tight.

Cameron
had stopped crying and managed to wipe most of the blood from his
face, turning the once white towel a dull red. His uninjured eye,
burned by tears, was now also red and puffy.

Slumped
on the bed with his back against the wall he looked small and
vulnerable, more like a balloon with a slow leak than a rough,
tough, mechanic with oil in his veins.

When
Lydia took the stained towel from Cameron, Eddie couldn’t help but
notice how she gently touched the man’s cheek, or the flicker of a
smile Cameron gave her in return, and he wondered about the true
nature of their relationship.

Lydia
absented herself into the bathroom again, and the two men sat in
silence until Cameron spoke up.

“
I’m sorry,” he said simply, the sentiment with so little
strength behind it, it hardly carried to Eddie’s ears.

“
No it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have blown up at you like
that,” said Eddie.

“
I couldn’t help it,” said Cameron. “After Matt... I, I
couldn’t take it. I felt something snap inside. I had to get away.
I didn’t want Brewer to find me. I didn’t want him to...
to...”

Chop your head off!

Silence.

“
What’s going to happen now?” said Cameron.

“
Now we take one of the lifeboats and we get the hell off
here,” said Eddie.

“
I mean after … when we get back. If we get back. There’ll
be an enquiry won’t there? When they come here and find the bodies
… what’s left of them, what can we possibly say, to explain, that’s
going to sound right this side of sanity?”

“
We tell them the truth, it’s all we’ve got,” said Eddie.
“If they want anything more, they can whistle for it. I’ll file a
report and give them the photos; I’ll tell them everything I know
to the best of my knowledge, as fantastic and outlandish as it is,
and then let them sort it all out for themselves. They can do what
they want. They can blow the place to atoms for all I care, as long
as I never have to set foot here again. As far as I’m concerned,
once I leave here, this place doesn’t exist, and if I hear the
words Falcon and Bravo spoken together in the same sentence
someone’s going to lose their tongue.”

Lydia
returned with a fresh damp towel and wiped Cameron’s face gently,
removing the last residue of blood. Using the bright beam of
Eddie’s torch she examined his eye more carefully.

No trace
of white showed, only a narrow grey ring of iris adrift in an
unwholesome mess of black and red, but the cornea looked intact,
with no scratches, no punctures and nothing oozing out from the
inside.

“
It might not be as bad as I first thought,” she said
reassuringly and snapped off the torch. “How’s your
leg?”

“
Bloody painful –” He moved it and grimaced. “But
bearable.”

She laid
a hand against his cheek, smiling softly. “Don’t be a martyr,
Duncan. We can get you to sickbay and I can try and dig the nail
out. It’s in deeper than the one in your arm, so it’ll be a tougher
job. Probably hurt a hell of a lot more too. It’s up to
you.”

“
No offence Lydia, but if you don’t mind I’d rather wait and
get to a proper hospital,” he said.

“
None taken. I just don’t want you to be in
pain.”

He
fidgeted, grimaced again and forced a smile. “It’s not so bad. Just
give me a couple of aspirins and I’ll be fine.”

“
You want to get yourself a shot of that morphine stuff,”
said Eddie, rubbing at his sore ankle. “Tell you, it makes the
world all nice and warm and fuzzy. Had me walking on clouds without
a care in the world.”

Lydia gave him a hard look. “And how did
you
get hold of
morphine, mister, because I certainly didn’t–”

Shrugging innocently, Eddie said, “Cupboard just fell open,
faulty catch probably.”

“
In a pig’s eye.” She shuffled to the edge of the bed. “But
you’re right. I should go and get some.”

Cameron
seized her by the arm. “No! Don’t go. I’ll be fine.”

“
If you’re sure.”

He
nodded weakly. “Yeah.”

“
We should get moving,” said Eddie. “Time and tide … they
wait for no man.”

“
What about our survival gear?” Lydia said. “If we’re going
to be spending some time at sea, shouldn’t we get into
it?”

Cameron
and Eddie exchanged glances over her head, an action which did not
go unnoticed.

“
What’s the matter?” she said.

“
We can’t,” said Eddie. “The locker room
is–”
Where Brewer gutted Craig McDougal and tried to eat his
liver.
“
–
not
safe. Sensors picked up a gas pocket so it’s been sealed. We take
our chances with what we’ve got. Layer on as much clothing as you
can and pack only survival essentials.”

“
What about food and water? Fuel?”

“
Normally there are rations stashed on the boat, but my
betting’s on them being long gone or well out of date,” Cameron
chipped in.

“
You’re probably right,” said Eddie. “I’ll see if I can raid
extra sleeping bags from the other cabins. Lydia, you pack whatever
clothing you can find. Cam, you stay here and rest.”

“
I can help,” Cameron insisted, making to get up. “Many
hands make–” He fell back against the wall, crying out in pain as
the nail scraped against the bone.

“
You stay where you are,” said Lydia. “We’ll
manage.”

“
When we’ve stashed the clothing, we’ll raid the kitchen and
pantry for food and drink,” said Eddie. “We won’t need much. Enough
for a couple of days should do.”

Recollection made Lydia’s voice small. “Do we have to? I’d
rather eat rat droppings and drink my own pee than go in that
kitchen again.”

Cameron
shifted on the bed. “What’s wrong with the kitchen?”

“
Brewer’s in there,” said Eddie. “Or rather Brewer’s body is
- what’s left of it.”

Cameron
shuddered and his hand went to his throat. “Is he - is he like
Matt?”

Before Eddie could draw breath to begin his long and lurid
description of Brewer’s demise, Lydia made a hissing sound and
glared at him hard, sending out the unmistakable silent
message,
say
one word out of place and I’m going to smack you in the
mouth!

“
What…what happened to him?” insisted Cameron. “What could
be worse than having your flaming head lopped off for God’s sake?
Tell me?”