The End of the World Survivors Club

by Adrian J. Walker

  The next day I worked as usual. Around mid-afternoon I was close to finishing when I felt my chair vibrate. The desk too, and everything on it, rattled and buzzed in a subsonic thrum. It didn’t feel like the engines. It felt much further away.

  After ten seconds the vibration intensified until, with a single shockwave that sent my glass flying from the desk and smashing to the floor, it stopped. With a groan, the ship rose and fell in a single oscillation, causing me to slip from my chair and more items to fall from the desk on top of me.

  I heard shouts from above. I scrambled to my feet and ran up the stairs.

  The deck was scattered with upturned deckchairs and broken glass. All around were people either on their backs or standing, holding their heads. I ran through the bewildered crowd.

  ‘Alice! Arthur!’

  There was no sign of them at the play area, and the bench where Mary usually sat with them was empty.

  ‘Mary!’

  I took the staircase to the upper deck, squinting in the low sun. The boat still bobbed in the wake of whatever had just happened.

  ‘Beth, we’re over here.’

  Through a gap in the railings I spied Mary on a different bench. For a second I thought she was alone. My heart derailed.

  But then I saw them; Arthur on her lap and Alice standing, holding her ear and looking peeved. With a curse of relief I sprang up the remaining steps and darted across the deck, pulling them into a hug.

  ‘What happened?’ I said, kissing Alice fiercely on the head.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Mary. ‘One minute we were sitting here enjoying the sun, and then suddenly it felt like we’d been dropped. You know like in an aeroplane? Then we were tossed up again, weren’t we Ally-Bally?’

  Alice nodded.

  ‘I hurt my ear.’

  ‘Where?’ I said.

  ‘You did, didn’t you, pet?’ said Mary. ‘Let Mary have a look-see.’

  Mary reached for Alice’s hand, but she pulled away.

  ‘Ow.’

  ‘Just a quick look, Alice, come on.’ She reached again.

  ‘Owww!’

  ‘Mary, she’s hurt.’

  ‘Come on, Alice, just a peek.’

  On Mary’s third attempt I batted her hand away, and she flinched. Guarding her hand, she sat up straight and looked down at me, mouth shut.

  ‘Alice,’ I said. ‘Can Mummy have a look?’

  ‘It’s sore.’

  ‘I know, I won’t touch, pinky promise.’

  Reluctantly she let me peel away her hand, revealing a sharp graze on her left lobe. It was nothing serious. I kissed her again. ‘Ouch, brave girl. Come on, let’s sit down.’

  I lifted Arthur onto the bench and sat with him on my knee, Alice on the other side. Arthur was gurning, watching the disoriented passengers move around us. ‘And are you all right, wee man?’

  He tried some noises, some humnums and baggers. He was yet to say his first word.

  ‘Nothing fazes you, eh?’

  I turned to Mary. She was still holding her hand, wide-eyed and quiet like a child before a headmistress. It was as if her emotional circuits were being rebooted. She tried a smile.

  ‘Did he get a bump?’ I said.

  She shook her head.

  ‘What about you, are you all right?’

  She shook her head again, running a finger down the ligament of her index finger, the place where I had brushed her off.

  ‘Thanks for looking after them. I’m … I’m sorry I …’

  ‘That’s OK,’ she said, looking out over the eerily calm sea. There was a weight to her stare I hadn’t seen before, like an unseen anchor dragging her down. ‘You’re her mother, not me.’

  ‘I know, but you’ve done so much for me over the last few days. I feel like some, I don’t know, one of those Botoxed Miami housewives who’s just hit the maid –’ I caught myself ‘– not that that’s how I see you, Mary, please, oh, shit …’

  Brightening, she laughed and let her hand fall to her lap.

  ‘It’s all right, I understand. I’d have done the same. And honestly, I love looking after your kids. They’re wonderful.’ She turned to Alice. ‘We’re like a little club, aren’t we, Ally-Bally? We look after each other.’

  I thought about Carol’s Survivors Club, and how different it might have been had Mary been part of it.

  ‘What?’ said Mary, noticing my smile.

  ‘Nothing. Thank you, that’s all.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. Besides, it’s given me something to do while Nate’s been ill. Speaking of which, I’d better go and see if he’s OK after what just happened.’

  ‘Of course, go on, go.’

  She stood and paused, as if something had occurred to her. Turning, she gave me a curtsey, hands clasped demurely. ‘If it’s all the same to you, ma’am?’

  ‘Get out,’ I said, laughing. ‘Go and see to your man.’

  With a smile, and a wink for Alice, she left.

  We sat there for a while in the sunshine, thumb-wrestling with Alice and playing peek-a-boo with Arthur, until gradually everyone had found their seats and the deck had returned to normal. Eventually the speakers crackled with Captain Ulrich’s voice.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologise for that, ah, disruption. We’re not sure exactly what that was, but occasionally we do see certain anomalies in currents when crossing deep water.’

  The words ‘deep water’ made my insides heave unexpectedly. I had never been this far out to sea, and the thought of all that space beneath us, filled with darkness, cold and life, gave me vertigo. Alice was at the edge of the bench, inches from the fence that separated the deck from a fifty-foot drop into the ocean. I had a flash of her tumbling in, legs and arms wheeling, curls streaming behind, no scream – a cruel flash of the nightmare lurking – and although the fence was ten feet high and unscalable, I pulled her close.

  ‘In any case, I am happy to report that there has been no damage, and no serious injury, so you will be pleased to know that we will be continuing without delay. Thank you.’

  Mary returned and sat down.

  ‘How is he?’ I asked.

  She curled her lip. ‘Milking it a bit now, if you ask me. But he’s fine. Thanks for asking.’

  ‘Did you hear the announcement? An “anomaly”, whatever that means.’

  She frowned, concerned. ‘Nate said it’s most likely due to some disturbance far away. A shockwave.’

  ‘More of those things falling, you think?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Alice tugged my sleeve.

  ‘Mummy, when are we there?’

  ‘Oh, darling, it’ll be a few days yet, I’m afraid. But there’s a film on tonight. Shall we go?’

  She nodded. Just then the engines stopped, and there was the usual groan from all around. My thoughts snapped back to the work I had left downstairs.

  ‘Why do we keep stopping?’ moaned Alice.

  ‘Because, Ally-Bally, the boat’s got tummy ache,’ said Mary. Glancing at me for permission, she reached across and pulled Alice over to her side of the bench. ‘But luckily your mummy’s very clever and she’s trying to make it better. Isn’t that right, Mummy?’

  She smiled and nodded in the direction from which I’d come.

  ‘Go,’ she mouthed.

  ‘Sure?’ I mouthed back.

  Mary held one of Alice’s hands in hers.

  ‘So, you and me’ll look after Arthur, won’t we? And Mummy will finish making the boat better and meet us later for the film. Sound good?’

  Alice plucked at her lip and looked at me, considering the options. Finally, with a sigh too heavy for a child, she gave me a nod.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ I said, ‘I promise.’

  I promise.

  To this day those words still haunt my dreams and gatecrash daily activities without warning. They’ll be with me forever, reminding me.

  I promise.

  When I had finished I sat back and rubbed my
eyes. The room was still and quiet, apart from the constant hum of the engines, and I stared at the results of my last test: all positive. I ran it again: same result.

  I had fixed it – there was no doubt.

  I stretched and stood up, dizzy with my little victory, and left the room. The corridors were empty, but one deck up I bumped into an engineer engrossed in a clipboard.

  ‘Excuse me, do you know where I can find the captain?’

  She looked me up and down. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ve been helping with the diagnostics systems, I think I fixed it, actually, so I just need—’

  ‘Most of the crew and passengers are up on deck. The captain wanted to speak to everyone before the film.’

  ‘Film? What time is it?’

  ‘Almost 8.15 p.m.’

  ‘Oh, bollocks!’ It was much later than I’d thought. The film was due to start at eight, and Alice would be wondering where I was. ‘Sorry, thanks.’

  I found my way out onto the upper deck, where rows of deckchairs had been arranged before a pull-down screen. The place was packed, and everyone had taken their seat while the captain spoke at the front. I heard him mumbling something about new beginnings as I scanned the crowd for Mary. The lights were low, and there was little space to move, but I saw her near the front row. Alice and Arthur had a knee each.

  ‘Madam, would you please sit down?’ said one of the crew, who was manning the projector.

  ‘I’m trying to get to the front,’ I said, struggling to find a way through the tightly packed network of seats. Every movement I made resulted in a hissed complaint.

  ‘Madam,’ said the crew member, ‘you can’t get through that way. You’ll have to stand at the back until the interval.’

  ‘Just let me through, will you? My kids are up there.’

  ‘Alternatively you can stand on the balcony above.’

  ‘Why won’t you just let me through? Mary!’ There were more tuts and mumbles, but Mary didn’t turn her head. ‘Mary?’

  ‘Madam, please.’

  ‘Beth,’ I heard the whisper from the row second to the back and saw the shapes of Richard, Josh and Bryce with an empty seat beside them. ‘There’s a seat for you here, come on.’

  I took one last look in Mary’s direction. I was sure Arthur saw me – one chubby silhouetted arm pointing excitedly over Mary’s shoulder in my direction – but then the captain finished and in the polite applause that followed, I lost him.

  ‘Madam.’

  I huffed. ‘Fine.’

  I staggered over fifteen sets of legs to the seat beside Richard.

  ‘You OK?’ he said, as I craned my neck over the crowd.

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ He touched my knee. ‘There’s an interval in half an hour. I’m sure you’ll be able to get to the front then.’

  ‘Pipe down in front, will you?’

  Gerald. Of course it was Gerald. I’d had just about enough of him, and was about to turn and let him know just how much he could fuck off, when the PA speakers gave a loud pop and the crowd yelped.

  ‘Here we go,’ whispered Richard, as the screen lit up. ‘Hope you’ve never seen Finding Nemo.’

  Chapter 8

  I counted the minutes, ignoring the film and watching Arthur’s head, which I could just make out through the crowd. It was resting on Mary’s shoulder. It made me sick to be so far from them, knowing that Alice was wondering where I was or, worse, wasn’t. I had never seen Finding Nemo, and although I’m sure it is a fine cinematic experience, I never will. Not now.

  Half an hour in the speakers popped and the image disappeared.

  ‘Right,’ I said in the silence, and went to stand, but Richard put his hand on my knee again. This time there was an urgency to his touch.

  ‘Wait.’

  ‘Ladies, gentlemen –’ it was the captain’s voice again ‘– please remain seated while we, ah, investigate something.’

  ‘What is it?’ I said, adding my own question to all the others firing around me. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Richard. ‘But we’ve stopped moving.’

  ‘And they’ve turned all the lights off,’ said Bryce.

  Sure enough, it wasn’t just the projector which had turned off. The deck was in darkness, and we were drifting beneath a cloudless sky, brightly lit by a spray of stars and a high full moon, and—

  ‘Not all of them,’ I said, nodding up to the balcony, where a wide beam of light swung.

  ‘That’s a searchlight,’ said Richard.

  ‘What are they looking for, Dad?’ said Josh.

  ‘I don’t know, son.’

  Some of the passengers were on their feet now, either trying to escape the growing claustrophobia of the deck or pressing crew members for answers. The crowd’s energy was growing rapidly, and I felt my chances of getting to Alice and Arthur dwindle with every new upright silhouette.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said the projectionist, trying to fend off a raft of questions. ‘We’re looking into it, please sit down.’

  ‘Fuck this,’ said Bryce, and got to his feet. ‘’Scuse me, coming through, sorry there, darlin’, didn’t mean to, whoops, all right, you old pissbag, I didn’t mean it.’

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ said Richard, standing.

  ‘I’m going to see what’s what, Dick, that’s what.’

  Finally free, Bryce mounted the steps and leaped up to the balcony. At the top there was a walkway to another flight at the front. If I could get along to it, I could get down to where Mary was sitting. I ran after him.

  ‘Wait,’ said Richard. He followed with Josh in tow.

  I made it up the stairs and was preparing to make for the other staircase when I stopped. We were on the right side of the boat and up against the tall fence was a line of passengers looking west, pointing.

  ‘What are youse all looking at?’ said Bryce, pushing in next to a scrawny, balding man peering through the mesh. ‘Hey? You there, Stimpy – what is it?’

  The man pointed a quivering finger at something in the distance.

  I pushed in next to Bryce. I could feel him shaking beside me. Richard and Josh arrived and we each followed the man’s terrified gaze across the moonlit water.

  ‘What is that?’ I said.

  ‘That’s nothing,’ said Bryce. ‘Just the horizon.’

  ‘No,’ said Richard. ‘That’s not the horizon. That’s a—’

  ‘Wave,’ muttered the man, staggering away from the fence. ‘Wave. Wave, wave, it’s a wave, it’s a wave.’

  We looked closer. The black line of the horizon appeared to be expanding, with a clear white lip rising into the sky.

  ‘How big is that thing?’ said Bryce, gulping.

  ‘Big,’ said Richard. ‘Possibly a tsunami. It must have been caused by whatever made that thump earlier.’

  ‘Whatever it is it’s fast as fuck,’ said Bryce, ‘and it’s coming right for us.’

  ‘What do we do?’ I said.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Richard. ‘We’re perfectly safe. Tsunamis only affect shorelines, but we’re in deep water so it should pass us by. All we have to do is sit tight, and whatever you do, don’t –’

  ‘It’s a wave!’ screamed the man.

  ‘– panic.’

  The man ran with arms flailing. ‘A bloody wave!’

  The word became itself, rolling through the crowd and growing with each horrified repetition.

  ‘Stop!’ cried Richard. ‘Calm down, man, we’ll be fine so long as we sit tight. We’ll just bob up and over it.’

  But panic had already gripped the crowd, and it had dispersed to do what it did best: take care of itself.

  Richard turned to me. ‘We’ll be fine, I promise you.’

  ‘I have to get my children,’ I said, and ran for the stairs. They were still sitting in their seat with Mary. Arthur was crying and Alice looked around in mute concern.

  ‘I’m here,’ I called, waving.
‘Mummy’s here. Mummy’s coming.’

  Alice pointed in my direction – she saw me, she did – and I must only have been a few metres from them. Enough to jump, perhaps? Perhaps … or perhaps I could have been more brutal. Perhaps I could have pushed a few passengers out of the way, or trampled my way through to get to them quicker. But I didn’t, and at that moment the lights blazed and a distorted pre-recorded message blared from the speakers.

  ‘Will all passengers please gather at their nearest muster stations. All passengers, please gather at your nearest muster station, where you will be issued with a life jacket.’

  As the message repeated a siren sounded and the crowd surged for the four staircases. A herd of bodies pushed me back up my staircase, lifting me off my feet and away from the deck below.

  ‘No!’ I cried, holding out a hand. ‘Alice! Arthur!’

  Alice heard me and turned. She grabbed Mary’s arm and pointed up at me, face crumpling.

  ‘Mary!’ I called, struggling against the tide of people. ‘Bring them to me, bring my children to me.’

  There was a muster station at the top of the stairs towards which the crowd was pushing me, and another at the same place on the opposite side of the boat. Mary glanced between the two options. Then, with a look that contained what I could have sworn was opportunity, she gripped Arthur to her chest, grabbed Alice and ran for the opposite staircase.

  The crowd bullied me up the staircase, and before I knew it I was standing on wet wood with a yellow life jacket in my hands. Richard gripped my shoulders.

  ‘Beth, where are your children?’

  I looked around. The heaving boat, the wide-eyed crew, the passengers sobbing in terror, they were like objects in a dimly remembered dream. I couldn’t feel my legs, my arms, my anything. The distance. The distance was trying to open up.

  But I wouldn’t let it. Not today. The only distance that existed was the one separating me from my children. I glared at the opposite deck.

  Richard looked across. ‘They’re over there?’

  ‘She took them.’

  ‘Then they’re safe.’

  I looked towards the bow. Ahead was a narrow walkway that joined the two sides of the deck. ‘I’m going to get them.’