Blood Bond

by Green, Michael

  Steven realised why they had left. ‘I checked the chronometers soon after we left England,’ he said, in a more conciliatory tone. ‘The wind-up chronometer had stopped of course, and there was a thirty-second difference between the battery-operated model and the self-winder. While you were laid low with your bullet wound I hung off Peacehaven on the Greenwich meridian and waited for noon. I confirmed the self-winder was accurate and reset the others to synchronise with it.’

  ‘Well done — I’m not sure I would have thought of that myself.’ Mark’s compliment seemed to help clear the air. ‘I do realise how keen you are to get home, son, but it makes sense to stop off in Brisbane.’ Steven didn’t respond. ‘We’ll sail her as fast as we can. How are the Dalton boys shaping up as crew?’

  ‘Luke’s fine, but Robert’s full of himself as usual. Adam’s not much use. He may have once owned his own yacht in England but he can’t hold a straight course — he probably always steered by auto-helm.’

  ‘And Fergus?’

  ‘Fine, he’s a natural. Of course, you can only get him on the helm if you can prise him away from Jessica for a few minutes.’

  Mark sensed Steven’s resentment. No doubt his son’s desire to spend time with his girlfriend was being thwarted by his sailing responsibilities. ‘Let’s set up a three-watch system,’ he suggested. ‘You take the eight-to-twelve watch with Penny and Luke, I’ll take the twelve-to-four watch with Allison and Adam, and Fergus can take the four-to-eight watch with Jessica and Robert.’

  ‘Fergus will have to learn fast if he’s to be a watch captain.’

  ‘It’s the easiest watch for you and I to keep an eye on. If the weather’s bad I’ll stay on watch for an extra couple of hours in the morning, till it’s light. You can keep an eye on him in the early afternoon before you go on watch if necessary.’

  Steven nodded. ‘And what about the Suez Canal? We could save a lot of time through there.’

  ‘If it’s still open.’

  ‘There are no locks on it. Even if it’s been blockaded we ought to be able to get Archangel through.’

  ‘We can’t be sure. Don’t forget the war between Egypt and Israel shortly before the pandemic broke out. The canal might even have been partially filled in for all we know. We could sail down the whole length of the Mediterranean and then be forced to sail all the way back to Gibraltar. At least if we head down to the Cape of Good Hope we know we’ll be able to get home.’

  Reluctantly, Steven had to concede his father was right.

  ‘Good idea,’ Adam said enthusiastically when, in the saloon over lunch, Mark announced his decision to introduce the watch system. But his attitude changed as soon as Mark stated the composition of each watch, his face betraying the fact that, as a member of the older generation, he felt he should have been the third watch captain. Robert’s scowling face suggested he resented the decision too.

  ‘Each watch will also take it in turns, one day in three, to be in charge of cooking and cleaning ship,’ Mark continued.

  ‘Lucky old you,’ Luke quipped to Penny. ‘I hope you can cook.’

  ‘Who do you think you’re handing out duties to?’ Steven shouted from the cockpit, from where he’d been steering the yacht and following the conversation. ‘I’ll be deciding who does what on my watch. That includes cleaning the heads.’

  ‘We’re going to have to be careful with water,’ Mark continued. ‘No more running taps. And one shower each a week.’

  ‘What?’ Jessica exclaimed. Dark, pretty and, like the rest of her family, petite, the strength of her voice belied her size.

  ‘You can have as many saltwater showers as you like.’

  ‘Seawater just makes you sticky.’

  Mark ignored the complaint. The sooner everyone realised this was no pleasure cruise the better. ‘My other concern is food.’

  Before Mark and Steven had sailed for England from New Zealand, they had crammed Archangel ’s lockers and bilges with bottled food and some of the precious stocks of tinned food they had manage to accumulate in the wake of the pandemic, as well as bulk supplies of vinegar and preserving syrup. They had saved the empty jars, expecting to replenish their food stocks before leaving England on the return voyage, but having escaped from Haver by the skin of their teeth that had not happened. ‘We’ll continue to troll fishing lines of course, but our experience on the voyage from New Zealand to England suggests there aren’t many fish out here in deep water. We’ve only got enough bottled food left from the outward journey to last a month — and then only if we’re careful. If necessary, we’ll stop at Cape Town and see what we can pick up there.’

  ‘Only if we don’t catch enough fish,’ insisted Steven.

  With the watch system in place, life aboard Archangel fell into a steady routine. But tensions increased. Mark wasn’t sure whether it was because of the cramped living conditions, the personalities of those aboard or simply the tedium of blue-water sailing. He did his best to keep everyone’s spirits up, but the sense of unease remained.

  His own mood was not improved by his lack of success with the single-sideband radio. Every day at noon New Zealand time, he would turn it on and twiddle the dials, trying to raise the Gulf Harbour community on the receiver Steven had installed there before they left. Jane had promised him that whatever happened, she would faithfully listen out for him for a few minutes at noon every day. While theoretically the system could bounce signals off the troposphere to anywhere in the world, in reality before the pandemic it had mostly relied on networks of operators relaying messages over shorter distances. Of course, now those networks no longer existed.

  On the voyage from New Zealand, Archangel had lost contact with Gulf Harbour before reaching Cape Horn. Despite still being in the northern hemisphere, Mark would sit at the radio for long periods each day, searching the frequencies. His efforts were rewarded only by static.

  Even worse was the growing tension between himself and Allison. He knew she didn’t share his love of the sea, and wondered if, had they had a conventional romance, rather than just snatching furtive moments together while imprisoned at Haver, they would have known more about each other’s likes and dislikes. He even began to wonder if the twenty-year difference in their ages was a factor, or whether getting away from Nigel’s cruelty had been more of an attraction for Allison than any real feelings for him. He found it particularly difficult to accept her continual hankering for England. He tried to reassure her that her mother would be fine, but now he realised that Allison was also missing her daughter Charlene and her grandchildren.

  In the cramped quarters of Archangel, living cheek by jowl with so many people, it was impossible for them to have any time to themselves. Their lovemaking, initially so intense and passionate, had become stilted, subdued by their knowledge that the groans and moans which emanated from Steven’s and Fergus’s cabins each night were accompanied by stifled giggles from the two small boys bunked down in the forepeak. He would be pleased when the voyage was over, and he and Allison could rebuild their relationship. He was even beginning to wish he hadn’t suggested stopping off at Brisbane.

  But Brisbane wasn’t to be the only delay to the voyage. Only four large tuna were caught as Archangel headed south — a welcome supplement to the crew’s diet but making no material impact on their dwindling food stocks.

  ‘There’s nothing for it,’ Mark confided to Steven, a week out from rounding the Cape of Good Hope. ‘We can’t risk setting off across the Indian Ocean with such a limited supply of food. We’ll have to call at Cape Town. Our water’s running low, too.’

  They didn’t have enough fuel aboard to operate the water makers, and although they had managed to collect rainwater during the regular tropical downpours as they drifted slowly and aimlessly through the doldrums, they hadn’t stored enough.

  Mark announced the change of plan to the remainder of the crew that evening. It was a beautiful night. As it was too warm to sleep comfortably down below, everyone had gathered in
the cockpit. Archangel was sailing well, straining forward, her large sails illuminated by the moon and a silver wake foaming behind.

  ‘Maybe we’ll find other people alive in Cape Town,’ speculated Robert enthusiastically. For once he wasn’t scowling.

  Like Tommy and Lee, he was also being kept awake by the sounds emanating from Fergus’s cabin. However, unlike the two younger boys, the sounds didn’t fill him with mirth — they filled him with jealousy and teenage sexual frustration.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Mark said. ‘We didn’t see any signs of life on the voyage to England, and we haven’t seen any so far on this trip, either.’

  ‘We’ve hardly been close to land,’ pointed out Adam. ‘I’d have thought it would have made sense to check out a few places as we went along.’

  ‘I still can’t believe that in the whole world only members of the Chatfield family have survived the pandemic,’ Penny said.

  ‘Me neither,’ agreed Jessica, ‘in the same way I’ve never accepted that Earth is the only inhabited planet in the universe.’

  They all looked up at the heavens. The sky was crammed with constellations, many of them, such as the Southern Cross, new to those members of the crew who had not crossed the equator before. There were too many stars to count.

  ‘That star’s moving,’ Luke said after a few minutes. His finger pointed high above the mainsail.

  ‘It must be a satellite,’ Mark said. ‘Or, judging by how bright it is, it’s probably the international space station.’

  The significance of this occurred to several of the crew in the same instant.

  ‘Do you think there might still be people up there — alive?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Surely not,’ scoffed Adam.

  ‘There could be,’ Fergus challenged, running his fingers through his hair, chopped roughly into a Mohican style.

  ‘But it’s been three and a half years since the pandemic.’

  ‘What if the scientists put every supply capsule they could in space, crammed with supplies, when the pandemic struck?’

  ‘Well … maybe … but three and a half years’ worth? That’s a lot of supplies.’

  ‘Well, even if they couldn’t stay up there the whole time, they could have stayed there until the supplies got low and then landed back on Earth,’ Penny suggested.

  ‘They couldn’t get down without ground control,’ ridiculed Adam.

  ‘Astronauts are a pretty resourceful bunch — remember the Apollo 13 mission? They got that spacecraft home safely.’

  ‘More likely there’re just corpses floating round up there,’ Adam said flatly.

  A series of dull thumps sounded as a shoal of flying fish thudded against the hull and cabintop. The plight of the crew of the international space station was forgotten as everyone scrambled to secure the welcome bonanza.

  7

  ‘Table Mountain up ahead,’ Fergus called excitedly from the cockpit. The first rays of light were invading the morning sky and his hair seemed redder than usual. Excited bodies tumbled out of bunks and rushed on deck to look at the flat-topped mountain, draped with its distinctive mantle of cloud.

  Steven used his sextant to measure the angle from a section of the mountain not obscured by cloud to the shoreline and scribbled a few quick calculations on the back of the chart. ‘It’s about thirty miles,’ he said. ‘We’ll be there by lunchtime if the wind holds.’

  Unfortunately, as Steven feared, the wind died a little, and it seemed to take Archangel forever to claw her way towards shore. Adam suggested starting the engine but, mindful of the need to conserve their precious diesel, Mark refused.

  Having visited the city several times before the pandemic, Mark knew Cape Town well, but he had difficulty identifying landmarks this time. There seemed far fewer buildings than he remembered. He searched hopefully for plumes of smoke, but saw none.

  It was mid-afternoon before they closed on the harbour. Several vessels were sunk across the entrance. Steven climbed the mast and conned Archangel in as she squeezed between them. ‘It looks like a bomb site ashore, too,’ he called from the spreaders. ‘Heaven knows what’s happened here.’

  Eager hands helped secure Archangel’s lines to the quay wall. All could now see that the buildings around the once-bustling Victoria Basin had been flattened.

  ‘Let’s just hope we can find some food,’ Mark said to Steven as he came down the mast.

  ‘That shouldn’t be a problem. I could see a few deer in the open spaces.’

  ‘Any people?’ Robert asked. He paused, ‘Any women?’ Steven shook his head.

  ‘Right,’ Mark said, glancing at his watch. ‘Where exactly did you see the deer?’

  ‘Close to the foreshore down there.’ Steven pointed southwest in the direction of the suburb Mark knew to be Sea Point.

  ‘OK, Adam, you’re the best shot.’ It had been Adam who, with a single shot, had killed Nigel’s son Miles during their flight from Haver. ‘Take a rifle and see what you can bag.’ Adam puffed up his chest, his self-esteem boosted by the compliment. ‘Keep well out to the west, and the rest of us will keep to the dock area and out to the east. We don’t want anyone getting shot accidentally. Take Fergus and your boys with you to help carry back what you kill.’

  ‘How many do you want?’ Adam asked confidently.

  ‘Enough meat for a couple of months. We can dry it, biltong style.’

  ‘Consider it done,’ Adam said.

  Mark turned back to Steven. ‘Take Penny and see if you can locate fresh water. I’ll take Allison, Jessica and the children with me. We’ll look for fruit, vegetables — anything we can bottle. We’ll do a recce of the buildings too, but I’ll be surprised if we find anything to eat.’

  Mark handed a rifle and ammunition to both Steven and Adam and took a rifle himself. ‘Can you shoot?’ he asked Fergus as an afterthought. Fergus shook his head.

  ‘I can,’ Robert boasted.

  Mark handed him the remaining rifle. Then, addressing everyone, he cautioned, ‘Take care. Stay in your groups. If you get into trouble, fire four shots in quick succession. And make sure you’re back on board before dark.’

  Steven took Penny’s hand and they hurried off past the crumbling buildings beside the wharf. ‘Good of your dad to babysit,’ Penny joked.

  As soon as they were out of sight and earshot of the others, Steven led her into a patch of tall grass surrounded by bushes and pulled her down beside him. At last they were alone. Invigorated by the freedom, they hurriedly removed each other’s clothing and rolled naked in the grass, holding one another close. Then, slowly, each holding back as long as possible, they made love. When they finally climaxed, they moaned with delight before rolling apart, their legs sprawled out, laughing and looking up at the sky.

  ‘I love you so much,’ Steven said after a while.

  ‘I love you too,’ Penny said, rolling onto her stomach, walking her fingers down his abdomen. Then she straddled him and pulled him inside her, rhythmically thrusting down as he fondled her breasts. She threw back her head in pleasure, her golden hair flowing over her bare shoulders. Suddenly, she gasped, and Steven thought for a moment she’d had another orgasm. Then he saw the terror in her eyes and reached for the rifle instinctively.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said softly. ‘They’re dead.’ She pulled away from him, sank down on the grass and pointed towards the bushes. ‘Over there.’

  Steven peered through the long grass and saw five headless skeletons, the bones tethered to crosses and held in position by ragged clothing.

  ‘What do you think happened?’ asked Penny, hurriedly putting on her clothes as if trying to conceal her body from prying eyes.

  ‘Heaven knows,’ Steven said. Disappointed and disturbed, he began to dress himself. ‘It looks like a group execution. Come on, let’s find some water.’

  Mark and Allison picked their way carefully past what looked like bomb craters as they progressed slowly down what a shabby road sign announced w
as Long Street — an unimaginative, if appropriate, name. Jessica, holding Tommy and Lee’s hands, trailed behind. The street was lined with the remains of fire-blackened buildings, many of which had partially collapsed.

  ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ Mark muttered, half to himself. ‘I wouldn’t have thought there was any other country in Africa which had the firepower to inflict this amount of damage.’

  ‘It could have been the Americans — you know how trigger-happy that lot were.’

  ‘Doubt it — no oil at stake in this part of the world.’

  ‘Gold and diamonds?’

  ‘Not much use in a pandemic.’

  Jessica caught up. ‘So many skeletons,’ she remarked with a shudder as they passed a drain clogged with human bones that appeared to have been swept down the gutters by a deluge.

  Mark nodded. ‘It doesn’t look like there was much effort made to bury the dead. And a lot of skulls have bullet holes in them.’

  ‘No cats or dogs about,’ said Allison.

  ‘The dogs probably got eaten when people ran out of food. And remember, cats might have been destroyed by government decree,’ Mark speculated, remembering the decrees issued in New Zealand at the height of the pandemic, when there had been fears cats were aiding the spread of the virus.

  Many of the bomb-damaged buildings appeared unstable, but they searched those they thought were safe to enter. They found only empty tins and discarded packaging. There was no food to be had anywhere.

  ‘Take care,’ Mark said as he led his party through the smashed-in doorway of what had once been a restaurant. Again they could not find a single scrap of food. ‘We’ll head into the suburbs,’ he said glumly. ‘Perhaps we’ll have better luck there.’

  ‘Well, at least now we know who did the bombing,’ Jessica said, handing him a battered newspaper from a rack. The headlines read:

  SOUTH AFRICAN PILOTS BOMB CAPE TOWN