Toxic (24 page)

Once on the open sea and en route to Site B, the group met in the wardroom. While Elaine recounted her encounter of the third kind, Dew showed another of his talents: he had made a true portrait of the alien, to the point that she asked herself if he had a photographic memory capable of absorbing all details. The remarkably precise lines left her speechless. The Asian was also a savant.

Noticing the drawing, Masters’ face hardened. His hands closed onto the edge of the table in a slow movement, which Elaine wasn’t the only person to observe. Bruce raised his eyebrows at him as a sort of silent questioning.

“And so, Alva started, “the alien spoke?”

The artist had a really distrustful attitude for an ex-junkie, Elaine thought, annoyed.

“It sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. It confirms the existence of a cure and that we should get to Site B as fast as possible. Dew is my witness.”

Alison grabbed her arm. The young girl was definitely worried about her dad and was hanging on to the idea of a medicine capable of curing him, like a life preserver for a drowning man.

“So, these creatures communicate in our language?” Bruce enquired. “Why you?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine responded. “I imagine that they have some sort of translators.”

“Maybe it’s a trap,
chica
.”

That was the second time he had called her that.

The Colombian wasn’t putting up with her mini coup d’état and her attempt to steal his boat. He would definitely be more suspicious in the future. In addition, he had demanded the colonel’s 45, and Masters had given it to him as a sign of goodwill. Elaine didn’t take the nickname as sexist, preferring to play at appeasing him.

“It’s possible,” she recognized. “They could also attack us and take us when they feel like it.”

The eventuality of being captured and most of all, the thought of their powerlessness, was definitely a weight on the atmosphere. Masters excused himself and went to the bridge, giving the excuse that they couldn’t change anything and that he wanted to get some air. Elaine took Alison back to the cabin. It wasn’t a decent hour for a child, even during the end of the world.

“We’re going to find the cure, right?”

She reassured the girl by tucking in the covers like an attentive mother. Alison never spoke of her mom, just of her dad. Elaine didn’t dare bring up the subject and kissed her forehead.

“You need to sleep. I’ll wake you up when we arrive. I promise.”

The coordinates placed Site B within an area called the Bermuda Triangle, Bruce remembered early in the morning. Even though it was full of mysteries and underlying threats, this detail didn’t have an influence on their decision or on their morale. The aurora chased away the nighttime clouds and the sky became a waxy yellow shade. On the deck, they saw the shady mass, a couple of kilometers away, splitting the line of the horizon.

Elaine clutched her cup of coffee. Masters checked that they were really in the right place with the help of a sextant and sent a sign of confirmation to the trafficker. The boat’s presence gave credit to Alison’s story, or at least, Elaine corrected, to the girl’s father’s story. Alva looked doubtful. Hector steered with prudence, moving slowly on a spread out and strangely calm sea, the kind that precedes storms. The differences of the previous day seemed to have been put aside, temporarily. Elaine hoped that this would last.

“It looks like a sort of ferry,” Bruce said, his hands pressed like a visor against his forehead.

The shape reminded them of the cruise ships at the entrance to the port at Key West. At least it was less imposing and less tall, she gauged. The colonel, with his knowledge, enlightened them.

“It’s probably a former navy troop transport, much smaller than those boats that tourists were horded on.”

“One of those ones with a boat access in the back?” Elaine enquired.

Masters lowered the binoculars. “How’d you know that?”

“My dad was in the navy.”

Frank Jones had commanded a destroyer, the peak of a career devoted to his first loves.

“Long months far from his kids and family, eh?”

“A vocation that cost him his marriage. I’m an only child. My mom got a divorce.”

The soldier returned to his observations. “This boat dates back to the fifties.”

“You mean the 1950’s?” Bruce asked, surprised.

“Exactly. This old piece of scrap metal doesn’t have any sophisticated systems, which makes it perfect for escaping those fucking EMP bombs the aliens have. Those things fry any electronic ships.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone is living there,” Alva remarked. “I don’t see lights or people on the deck.”

Nobody dared offer guesses. They approached the unmoving phantom vessel in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle. They came up alongside it on the port side and then followed along it until the stern. Elaine noticed the lack of a number or name on the hull.

“The Flying Dutchman,” Bruce suggested, trying to reduce the tension.

The back ramp was lowered. The eddy rushed into the lowered platform.

“Hovercraft enter there to load troops or materials. The ship can hold two or three of them.”

Masters didn’t explain their disappearance, however. He just shrugged his shoulders when the point was raised. The colonel then turned towards Hector.

“How much does your boat draw?”

“Two meters or a little less.”

“I don’t think there’s a risk of scraping the bottom of the hold. Of course, we’ll have to fold up the mast first.”

The proposal didn’t please Hector.

“I’m not sure… We couldn’t just pull up alongside, against the hull?”

“Too complicated. Inside, there are facilities to set sail safely and get off quickly if we have problems.”

The Colombian shook his head. Masters shot him a sly smile which was a little provocative. Elaine tensed up. Hector could react in an unpredictable way.

“Are you afraid?”

Stung into action, the trafficker expressed himself directly. “I feel like we’re going into a tomb.”

Hearing that, Elaine closed her eyes. She felt a similar sensation. Where were the marines? Had they evacuated the ship?

The colonel and Bruce folded up the mast which required a certain coordination of movements. Once the operation was finished, Hector aligned his sailboat in front of the mouth opening onto the steel entrails of the troop transport, which swallowed them bit by bit. While their eyes were getting used to the change in light, they made out the details on the inside. Two paths ran along each side of the basin, which was a good fifty meters long. At regular intervals, platforms allowed for mooring ropes to be tied. Numerous access doors led to passageways which plunged into darkness. The far end of the hold was marked by an inclined ramp which emerged from the surface. Alva spotted the body first.

“There!” she exclaimed, her arm outstretched.

A shadow dressed in white lay beside a hatch. The shreds of the uniform caught the light from outside. Hector slowed down and then his hand took the gas up a notch once again. Masters held a flashlight and directed the beam onto the body, whose head was missing. The circle of light revealed others, scattered around the loading area.

“According to the legend, the plague was declared aboard the Flying Dutchman and the ship was rejected by all the ports where it tried to anchor, for fear of it spreading. This vessel is damned as well,” Bruce concluded.

The Colombian maintained the sailboat a few meters from the edge, ready to put it into reverse and get out as fast as possible. His pale face expressed not only disgust but the desire to get out of there without further ado, which was something Elaine understood perfectly.

“In this case, it would be more prudent to leave.”

The nurse put her hands on the rail. Even though she was hesitant because of the macabre signs that were accumulating before their eyes, she didn’t want to give up without at least organizing a rapid expedition.

“In these tight corridors without lights, this is madness,” Masters resumed.

Agreeing for once with the American soldier, Hector nodded. Elaine didn’t see any support in the faces she viewed. She also saw that nobody would accompany her in a fast expedition. She let loose a resigned sigh when the burst of an acute voice resounded in the steel cavern.

“No! We have to find the medicine!”

The young girl bounded over the mooring ropes on the deck and slid on the round roof of the cockpit to escape from Bruce’s outstretched arms. She dodged between Alva and the marine with surprising agility and then ran towards the bow. Alison jumped and swam to the ramp, all in less than a minute. The scene took Elaine by surprise.

After hesitating briefly, she shot away in pursuit of the girl.

She grabbed the colonel’s flashlight, as he didn’t dare hold her back. The nurse had that same determined look as in the hangar in Key West. Masters decided to follow his instinct once again, against all reason.

“You stay on board and don’t move,” he told the others before putting his leg over the railing.

Hector threw him his 45. Masters thanked him with a nod of his head.

“At the sound of a shot, we’re getting out of here,” the trafficker warned him.

Elaine hadn’t waited for him before disappearing. Despite her head start, he caught up with her quickly thanks to the glow of the flashlight. She had taken a hallway, the same one that the girl had followed to God knows where. They heard an ear-splitting shriek from Alison. Because it rebounded on the metal walls, its location was uncertain.

“Where did she go?” he mumbled, as they passed through a maze of tight passageways.

“She must have gone down,” Elaine judged.

“Hector’s right. This is a tomb.”

A persistent odor, though not as disgusting as expected, was at their noses. Panting, Elaine spent a moment at each opening. The beam of light showed a collection of overturned tables and cabinets, broken and twisted chairs and walls crumbling with impacts. Such an assault vehicle transported many soldiers. Where were their bodies?

She felt Masters’ fist on her shoulder through the fabric of her black shirt.

“Let me get this. I’m used to this type of search.”

She kept her hand tight on the flashlight, her eyes wide open.

“We’re not leaving this boat without her.”

“We’re going to find her,” he promised, looking her square in the eyes.

She accepted. He went in front of her. Like a cop, he held his gun above the flashlight so that targets would be covered by the glowing circle, which revealed battle scenes like the flash of a strobe light immobilizing moving bodies. The dried streaks of blood and numerous impacts highlighted the violence of the combat. The details didn’t allow them to know who had fought against who, just that the fight had been merciless. The crew had perhaps fought against a horde. She shared her feelings with the colonel, who declared that it would be better to avoid coming to hasty conclusions.

“Beyond the inner dock area, I didn’t see any other corpses. Let’s concentrate on the girl first and keep our eyes open.”

Suddenly, Elaine froze. “Did you hear that?”

“It’s a hull. It moves around and makes all sorts of sounds and creaking noises, not to mention the piping which squeals and… out of order bathrooms.”

His tone tried to sound relaxed. Masters was trying to explore the rooms methodically.

“That didn’t sound like a creak,” Elaine objected, less and less reassured.

The soldier ignored her last remark. She was sweating profusely. The nervous tension made the heat hard to stand. The ship, lacking the energy to fuel the ventilation process, was slowly transforming as the sun got higher in the sky. Her moist hands slid along the walls. Sweat clung to her neck. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand often, keeping her eye on the circle of light that danced on the walls.

“She took this staircase. Look,” declared Masters.

He stopped his sweeping motion to light up a hatch. A fresh blood stain marked the edge. Alarmed, Elaine crouched down, her voice dry. “She’s hurt.”

“She probably got scratched. How does she manage to get around in the darkness?” Masters questioned.

“I gave her a small pocket flashlight to go to the bathroom on Hector’s boat.”

Once again, Elaine flicked her head with a quick gesture. The colonel had also turned his ear. He also heard that distant wheeze, a little like the bellow of a stag, reverberated by the metal corridors.

“You were right. Those aren’t creaking noises.”

Elaine swallowed. “Infected.”

“It sure sounds like that to me. We’d better not hang around here.”

Carefully, they went down to the lower level, hoping that Alison was near. When the marine pointed the beam of the flashlight to the right, he stayed still for a moment.

“What?”

Without responding, Masters moved forward, keeping the light and the barrel of his 45 towards the door at the back of the room. Once he reached it, he put down his gun and put his hands on it.

“It only opens from inside. I don’t see a handle.”

Beside them, an electrical box was connected to electrical ducts running along the frame and the hinges.

“Alison…” Elaine whispered.

Masters pointed to a trapdoor with a blood stain.

“Maybe the duct leads to the other side.”

All of a sudden, the nurse banged on the metal. “Alison!”

Masters grabbed her arm. “You’re going to attract the infected, God dammit!”

As a confirmation of his prediction, the wheeze was once again heard. It seemed as far off as before. Elaine got free of the colonel’s grip.

“We have to open it.”

“For the moment, we’re blocked. We should go back to the boat and review the situation with the others.”

“No!” Elaine opposed.

Masters took her by the shoulders and shook her without holding back. “I know what you feel. If you want to find the girl, we need to get back the electricity on board which will probably allow us to turn on the mechanism for this fucking door. Because we don’t know where the infected are, we should also secure access to the upper decks, which means closing all the hatches. To do that, we’ll need help.”