Survival Instinct (The Adventures of Eric and Ursula Book 2)

by A. D. Winch

  Memories of the previous night kept entering her head, but she pushed each one to the back of her mind. They would not help her to get out of this. Later, she would have time to piece together the events and mourn.

  Next to where she had been lying was a large, white mound. Ursula knelt on the snow and dug down until she found her motorbike. Apart from a few scratches where it had hit the tree trunk it looked undamaged. Thankfully the key was still in the ignition but when she turned it, the engine spluttered but did not start.

  “This isn’t a problem,” she told herself.

  Keiko had told her that engines were like humans, ‘they need attention, and when they get cold, they are less likely to move.’ She flicked the key again and turned the throttle. The engine coughed and choked but did not start. She tried again, but the same thing happened. Keiko’s warning bounced around her head, “be patient. Don’t flood the engine.”

  Ursula waited nervously. She was mindful that the forest could be crawling with soldiers who, having heard the bike, were heading straight for her. She tried again. The engine spluttered, fired up and then died.

  “This time,” she muttered to herself and turned the key and the throttle at the same time.

  The engine growled and then weakly ticked over. Ursula continued to twist the throttle until the engine was running smoothly by itself, and then she sat on the motorbike.

  The GPS device attached to the handle bars had a cracked screen but switched on as soon as Ursula pressed the button. A map appeared, but the GPS could not locate any satellites.

  I need to find a clearing away from the trees, Ursula thought. She set off, driving slowly through the forest. She didn’t dare turn the bike’s headlight on and did not want to hit another tree. After a while, she reached the edge of a vast frozen lake. It was covered in snow but in places people had brushed it aside to leave large areas for skating. Curved lines were etched into the ice, and the smooth patterns were visible in the moonlight.

  Ursula drove very slowly onto the lake and within a few minutes the satellites had been located and she knew that she was just outside a place call Olsztynek or, more importantly, fifty-six point seven kilometres from the Szymany base. She typed her destination, the port of Gdansk, into the GPS and watched as a route was computed. She had to travel another one hundred and fifty-nine kilometres but then she would be safe.

  A strong wind blew a few clouds across the sky, but it looked like the snow had passed. The night was otherwise still, and the weather looked agreeable. Ursula twisted the throttle and sped off across the lake. For some reason, she felt safe as she drove over the creaking ice. When she reached its tip, she continued through the forest until she arrived on the road that the GPS was insisting she took.

  The road had been cleared of snow, and there was no longer any need for snow studs on her tyres. She stopped the bike and spent twenty minutes unscrewing them. Once she had finished, she peeled the white, plastic coating away from the red metal. She did the same with her helmet that returned to its original blue. Before she set off again, she took off her white ski suit and buried it under the snow amongst the trees.

  The girl who had fled on a motorbike from Szymany had been replaced by a completely new motorcyclist. Her bike leathers did not keep her as warm without the ski suit, but she knew she could cope for the two hours she would be travelling.

  There was very little traffic on the motorway heading north towards the Baltic Sea. As she neared Gdansk more cars appeared and large container lorries rumbled past her. Even without the GPS she could have found the port. All the lorries were heading in the same direction. In front of them, Ursula could see several large cranes, floodlights and a central harbour tower which stood high above everything else.

  A long line of lorries led up to one of the port’s entrances. The lorries at the rear were crawling along. Those in the middle had their engines running, but were stationary. Those at the front entered the port one by one. Ursula overtook them all and hoped that the lorry engines would drown out the noise of her own engine. She stopped beside a lorry transporting a container covered in large Korean letters and waited. It was third in the queue and when it moved forward to second Ursula pulled in behind it. The driver of the lorry to the rear hadn’t noticed and almost crushed Ursula and her motorbike. He braked noisily and banged his fists on the front window of his cab. Ursula could hear him shouting something at her in a language she did not recognise but she ignored him. It was cold outside; the air was heavy with exhaust fumes, and his cab was a far more comfortable place for him to be.

  The lorry moved forward again. Ursula stayed behind but edged over to the driver’s side and peered around the cargo trailer. A well wrapped-up custom’s guard was talking to the driver and papers were being exchanged. Ursula hoped it would be a quick discussion as the pollution from the lorries was making her feel sick.

  The custom’s guard appeared satisfied and waved the lorry through. Ursula drove to the opposite side and stayed behind the rear wheels. It was unnerving steering her bike next to wheels that would squash her, if she ventured just a little closer. Despite her tiredness, she stayed focused and kept her concentration.

  Once through, Ursula drove away. The port was much busier than she had imagined, and it was still very early in the morning. The pictures and maps she had studied made it look tranquil but nothing was further from the truth. Lorries were constantly on the move around her; huge cranes lifted containers onto enormous cargo ships and all kinds of vehicles headed towards the ferry terminal. After her peaceful journey, the bustle and noise was a shock. Ursula continued to drive slowly. She followed the port’s wide river towards the open sea and her very own departure lounge.

  The container yard was the size of a village. Containers had been arranged in blocks five wide and up to six high. Roads had been left between them with lanes and street lights. Ursula turned her bike into one of these roads and drove down it in awe. It was like driving through a town made of gigantic building blocks.

  Ursula stopped the bike under a street light. She picked up the GPS and selected ‘navigate to a point.’ The co-ordinates had already been installed and the arrows to direct her appeared on the screen. She pulled away and was soon in front of the correct container; five others were stacked above it.

  Before stopping the bike, she checked that no one was around. A crane was operating nearby, shifting containers onto a cargo ship, but it was currently out of sight. Once satisfied she got off the bike and pointed its headlight at the battered, brown container. The doors were stiff and difficult to move. Once she had opened them, she quickly wheeled the bike inside and cut the engine. As Andrea had promised, Ursula was able to close and secure the door from the inside. For peace of mind Ursula opened and shut the door again. The last thing she wanted now was to be trapped in a container.

  Just in front of the bike, were a number of wooden tea chests that completely filled the container from floor to ceiling. Ursula went to one on the right side and pushed it. The tea chest moved backwards, and she continued to push it until an opening appeared. She crawled through the tunnel to the other side. It was pitch black and Ursula fumbled around on the wall until she found what she was looking for. A second later and she could see. The lamp was dim but after turning the handle, until it would turn no more, the container was brightly lit.

  The tea chests were simply a false wall and bottles of water were lined up untidily against them. Ursula opened one straight away and drank almost the entire contents. Tins of food, dried fruit, crisps, nuts and pre-packaged pastries littered the floor around them. Ursula opened some dried mango and sat down on the mattress. She pulled a sleeping bag and blankets around her shoulders and ate. On the opposite side of the container was an unappealing looking chemical toilet and next to it was a large, grey suitcase. Ursula pulled the suitcase to the bed and unzipped it. Inside she found a selection of clean and warm clothes with an eReader and mobile phone resting on top. Before she changed into warmer
clothes, Ursula sent an SMS to Keiko. It read, ‘Please come and get me.’ By the time she had changed into new clothes, a reply had been received. It read, ‘Stay comfortable. We will be there as fast as we can, approximately five days.’

  Ursula opened a tin of peaches, some peanuts and a packet containing a croissant. The dried mango had not been enough, and she ravenously devoured the feast. She washed it down with another bottle of water and then got into the sleeping bag. A few minutes later she was asleep.

  Ursula had lots of time to think over the next few days. It was the first occasion in months that she had been truly alone, and it made her appreciate what she wanted. She wanted to be back with her grandparents again, she wanted to be back in their apartment, she wanted to be back in Saint-Denis, and she wanted to be back home. She wanted to stop hiding, she wanted the adventures to end, she wanted boring routine, and she wanted her life to return to normal.

  Andrea was gone, Alexander had left her and she had no idea where Eric could be. There was nothing she could have done for Andrea. She didn’t know exactly where Alexander had gone and despite her best efforts she could no longer sense Eric.

  Maybe she was being optimistic but she felt she could live a normal life again. The police had left les banlieues and even if they came back, what laws had she broken in France? Even if they could say she had done something, what could they do a thirteen year old? The police didn’t put thirteen year olds in prison. She vowed to keep herself physically and mentally active. If the OSS appeared again, she would deal with them, but she refused to live in fear any longer.

  As each day passed, these thoughts became more definite in her head and motivated her to stay positive and to get out of her current situation. Even so, by the fifth day in the container Ursula was getting cabin fever. The chemical toilet stank and the lack of sunlight had made her feel weak and feeble. At night, she snuck out of the container and let in some fresh air while she walked around, but she never went far. It was, therefore, a welcome relief when before midnight the phone buzzed and she read, ‘We are here and coming to get you. Stay where you are.’

  Less than an hour later the container door opened and Keiko walked in. Ursula hugged her warmly. They took her belongings, including her bike, and walked quietly through the port.

  The Orca II was moored at the harbour nearest to the sea. It looked tiny sandwiched between an ocean liner and a cargo ship. As they approached, fireworks exploded above them, and Ursula dived onto the ground. Keiko had no idea what had happened to Ursula and laughed.

  “It’s only fireworks,” she said, helping Ursula to her feet. “Happy New Year!”

  Ursula smiled and then laughed. She was still giggling when they reached the Orca II. As soon as she was on board, Captain Wang piloted them out into the Baltic Sea.

  Keiko led Ursula to the ship’s dining room where Arjuna and Kim-Ly were waiting. They looked excited to see her, but they failed to hide their shock when she came into the light. Ursula caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was matted and had even more grey strands; crow’s feet had reappeared around her eyes, and she had a wrinkled neck like Mémé.

  “I think you need a shower, rest and some plankton gloop,” Keiko told her. “You’ll be pleased to hear that Alexander has given us the recipe.”

  “I also need some daylight,” Ursula added. “I haven’t seen the sun for a week.”

  “We’ve got about another week at sea until we reach France as we have to do some work on the way. So you’re more than welcome to spend every day on deck under the winter sun.”

  A week later they arrived at Dieppe. Captain Wang docked at Quai Henri IV next to a large number of small sailing boats. The temperature was warmer than in Poland, and there was no snow on the ground. Despite this, the wind blew in from the sea and sent a chill through Ursula’s body as she set foot on dry land again.

  Much to the crew’s dismay, and despite Keiko’s pleading, Ursula set off alone on her motorbike. It was three in the morning, and she arrived back in Paris two hours later.

  The apartment blocks were a welcome sight. They loomed over her as high as the containers had but made her smile. There were lights on in a few windows, and she could just make out heavy bass pounding from one of the apartments. The streets were congested and the advertising board near to her grandparents’ block was trying to get people to buy nose hair trimmers. She drove around Saint-Denis just to feel it again and then parked in front of her grandparents’ block.

  The doors were new but had not been fully fitted, and Ursula could push them open. Inside the main entrance, the light still flickered but the walls had been freshly plastered and the smell of mildew had vanished. The lift doors were also new, but a sign had been stuck across them which read, ‘Under repair. Please use the stairs.’ Ursula did not care and cheerfully skipped up the steps until she reached the seventh floor.

  The door to her grandparents’ apartment was locked. Ursula found the spare key under the plant pot opposite. She turned it silently in the lock. The door creaked as she pushed it open, but no one stirred inside. She gently closed it and walked in. Next to the door, she saw the letter she had sent her grandparents. Ursula smiled. All that mattered now was being home. Everything else she would push to the back of her mind until she told her grandparents.

  Her grandparents’ bedroom door was locked, and she could hear the welcome sound of snoring. She debated whether to wake them but was seriously worried that she would give one of them, or possibly both, a heart attack if she walked in now. Instead, she opened the door to her own bedroom and went in without turning on the light.

  Nothing had changed. The wardrobe door was still warped, her posters had not been touched, her old desk was clean and her bed was welcoming.

  Ursula lay down on the sheets and whispered to herself, “I’m home.”

  She was smiling from ear to ear.

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  Please Write a Review

  I hope you have enjoyed reading Book 2 in ‘The Adventures of Eric and Ursula’ and will continue to read the other two books in the series.

  If you have enjoyed reading ‘Survival Instinct,' please write a review on the site from which you downloaded a copy. Also please tell all your friends, let people know on twitter and post on your facebook page. I would appreciate this. If you want to read previews of other books in the series or want information about future releases, please visit my website www.winchad.com. Also, sign up for my monthly newsletter to receive short stories and access other great V.I.P. content on my website.

  If you did not enjoy reading ‘Survival Instinct’ then I’m sorry that it wasn’t for you. Well done on finishing it and why not try ‘Fallback.' You may prefer it.

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  About the Author

  I’m the author of ‘The Adventures of Eric and Ursula,’ a series of four books for young adults and beyond.

  Originally I'm from the UK. Eighteen years ago, I left England and since then I have lived in Transylvania (close to Dracula's castle), war-torn Sri Lanka and above the Hadron Collider in Geneva. Currently, I live in Prague, not too far from a tower that looks like a space rocket and is covered in giant babies.

  I began writing ‘Book 1 - An Extra-Ordinary Beginning’ while waiting for the birth of my son. Funnily enough it took exactly nine months to write. After he was born, this book collected four years of cyber dust on my computer before I rediscovered it. ‘Survival Instinct’ is book two in a series of four exciting books.

  Over the last fourteen years, I have written and directed plays for children that have been performed in the UK, Romania, Sri Lanka, Switzerland and Czech Republic.

  For an older audience, I wrote the films ‘Seagulls’ and ‘your baby disappeared.' ‘Seagulls’ was shown at the Brighton Film Festival and ‘your baby disappeared’ premiered in Prague in 2011.

  When I am not writing I enjoy spending time with my family, cycling, watching movies, listening to comedy
and being creative.

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  Discover other books by A.D. Winch

  ‘Book 1 - An Extra-Ordinary Beginning’ is out now on Smashwords, Amazon and from all good online retailers.

  Book 3 will be available on all good online retailers in the autumn of 2014. Read a chapter from Eric and Ursula’s exciting third adventure by clicking Preview.

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  Connect with me Online

  Website - www.winchad.com

  Twitter - @adwinch

  Facebook - adwinch

  Email - winchad@winchad.com or adwinchinfo@gmail.com

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  Preview of Book 3 - Fallback

  Eric woke but his eyes stayed firmly shut. He hoped that he had been having a nightmare and that he would be back in his own bed at one of his homes. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The view in front of him was what not what he had hoped for.

  The room was rectangular and plain. It was functional rather than fun. The only personal touches on the walls were pictures that Eric had put up. He reluctantly got out of bed and looked at the reminders of his past life. According to Doctor Noel, they were supposed to help Eric feel better as his medicine was reduced. It didn’t work. Every time Eric looked at them, all he felt was anger. Each picture made him think about what he had lost and that his freedom had been taken away. He should have just torn them all down but that would have meant plain, mundane walls again.

  The pictures that riled him the most were of Paris and Prague. When he looked at them, he thought about Ursula and the last conversation they had. They had been standing in a beach outhouse surrounded by the OSS. He could remember almost every word they said to each other.