The men had entered the hotel through the main entrance in Date Street. He could see a side entrance beside a coffee bar directly opposite in India Street and considered making for that, but realising it would be risky crossing the wide open street, and not knowing where the men were in the hotel, he decided to remain where he was and keep watch through the grimy, cobwebbed windows.
At eleven thirty-five the three ratings emerged from the hotel and crossed the intersection a few yards from where he was hiding. He waited till they were out of sight then, rifle in hand, sprinted towards the side entrance to the hotel. Passing the coffee bar, he found himself in an open courtyard in the centre of the hotel complex. A ripped canvas shade sail slung between the buildings gave only partial cover from the windows above.
Concerned he might be seen, he hurried across the courtyard into the corridor leading to the hotel foyer. The hotel register was open on the counter. The page was divided into three columns with the names Julie, Louise and Anne written above. Men’s names were written in each of the three columns against the morning ten o’clock to eleven thirty time slots. Louise and Anne’s columns had names scrawled against the two thirty to four thirty and the evening five thirty to seven thirty time slots too.
Worried as to where the fourth man might be, Mark hurried from the foyer. He found a staircase, climbed to the first floor and moved cautiously along the corridor. Most doors were unlocked and he quickly peered into dusty, unoccupied rooms. Where he found a locked room he knocked gently and stood back, rifle at the ready. His knocks went unanswered. He passed a second staircase. He had almost completed checking the fourth side of the courtyard when he heard female voices.
His heart raced as he slowly turned the door knob and pushed his way in. A woman stood to one side of the room, towelling herself. A second lay on the bed, resting. They were naked apart from a thick anklet on their right legs. They both gasped. A third woman in the shower to his right saw him and screamed.
‘You’re Julie?’ he said, recalling Hank’s description of his preferred woman.
‘How do you know my name? Who are you?’
‘I’m Mark. Don’t be afraid. I’ve come to get you all out of here.’
‘Who are you? Where are you from? Are you Australian?’
Before Mark could answer, they heard the sound of footsteps running down the corridor.
‘Don’t say anything,’ Mark whispered, placing his finger to his lips.
Julie grabbed him, pulled him into the shower room and closed the internal door. He heard the main room door crash open.
‘What’s all the screaming about? What’s going on?’ demanded a rough male voice. He recognised the accent. It was Brad.
‘Julie slipped in the shower room. But she’s all right.’
The door to the shower room was flung open. Julie was seated naked on the toilet. ‘Do you mind?’ she demanded.
‘What you being so coy about, you silly bitch? Hurry up and get showered. I’ve got a special assignment for you this afternoon.’
‘What do you mean a special assignment?’
‘Never you mind. I want you dressed and down in the foyer in ten minutes. You two hurry up and get dressed too. You’re on double shifts this afternoon.’
‘Why?’
‘Just do as you’re told.’
‘It’s not fair.’
‘Tough.’
‘But why are we on double shifts?’
‘Stop asking questions,’ Brad shouted angrily. ‘Now hurry up, Julie. I want you down at the foyer, twelve o’clock sharp. Or else.’ The door slammed shut and Brad stomped away.
‘What’s going on?’ Julie asked as she hurriedly covered herself with a towel.
‘Do you know a guy called Hank?’ Mark asked as he drew back the shower curtain and stepped out of the bath.
‘The astronaut?’ There was terror in her voice.
‘Does he live some way away from here?’
‘Yes, Edwards Air Base.’
‘That makes sense. He’s on his way to pick you up. You’re off to Los Angeles to entertain his friends.’
‘What?’ The terror in her voice was even more pronounced.
‘Let’s get the hell out of here,’ Mark said.
‘Where to?’
‘I’ll explain as we go. First we need to get safely out of the hotel.’
Julie glanced at her watch. ‘It’s nearly noon,’ she said anxiously. Mark sensed she was as frightened of Brad as she was of Hank.
The three women pulled on their dresses and, with Julie leading the way, they all ran along the corridor. At the foot of the staircase they halted and looked across the courtyard to the glass door leading through to the hotel foyer. They saw Brad glance at his watch and then storm towards the other staircase, his face screwed up in anger.
As soon as he was out of sight, Mark led them across the courtyard towards the side entrance he had used earlier. As he passed the coffee shop he heard the sound of horses’ hooves and held out his arm to stop the women moving onto the street. In the reflection of the glass door they could see a lone horseman riding down the hill towards them, a second horse trailing behind.
‘What now?’ Julie whispered.
Before Mark could answer they heard Brad shout from the hotel corridor above them, ‘Right you bitches, where are you?’
The horseman heard the shout too. ‘What’s going on?’ he yelled from the street. Again Mark recognised the voice. It was Hank.
‘I won’t be long,’ Brad shouted back.
Hank brought the horses to a halt in the middle of the intersection. He was looking up to the windows of the hotel. ‘You’d better not be,’ he yelled. He was holding a gun, his finger on the trigger. From their hiding place Mark and the women saw Brad rush back into the hotel foyer and grab his own weapon before pushing through the lobby door to face Hank.
‘Well, is she ready?’ Hank demanded.
‘No. She’s disappeared.’
‘What do you mean she’s disappeared?’
‘All three of them are hiding somewhere in the hotel.’
‘Are you up to your old tricks?’
‘I’m not up to anything. They must have seen you riding down the street. It’s your own fault for treating them so rough in the past.’
‘How do you know they haven’t done a runner again?’
‘I was talking to them less than five minutes ago. They’re in the hotel somewhere. You’d better help me find them.’
‘You find them. It’s not my problem.’
‘It’s your problem as much as it is mine. You need to be clear of here before their two thirty clients arrive.’
Hank spurred his horse forward. The second horse tugged along behind.
‘I thought you’d tagged them,’ he said angrily as he dismounted.
‘I have, but the tracking equipment’s down at the base. Anyway I’m sure they’re in the hotel somewhere. We’ll soon flush them out.’
Mark looked down at Julie’s anklet. ‘How long will it take Brad to get down to the base?’ he whispered.
She shrugged. ‘Twenty minutes, maybe a bit longer.’
As Hank and Brad disappeared through the hotel entranceway, Mark and the women slipped through the side door and sprinted along India Street.
Anne and Louise introduced themselves as they ran. Mark guessed all three women were in their mid-to late thirties. Anne was blonde, of slight build and barely five feet tall. Louise was also of slight frame but taller, with ravishing red hair. Julie was dark and had a very generous figure. Despite being the eldest she was the most attractive. All three women had high cheekbones.
‘Are all your names Chatfield?’ Mark asked.
‘Mine is,’ Julie panted.
They stopped running but walked as fast as they could, periodically breaking into a jog.
‘My grandfather was named Chatfield apparently,’ Anne said when she had regained her breath, ‘but he wasn’t married to my grandmother.’
/> ‘He was my grandfather too,’ Louise added. ‘We’re all related.’
‘So who are you?’ Anne asked bluntly as they hurried along. ‘How did you find us?’
Mark quickly explained the barest details — how he was also a Chatfield, how he and the other survivors were sailing from New Zealand to England, and how they had picked up Brad and Hank’s radio transmissions.
Julie looked nervously over her shoulder. ‘Are you taking us to your yacht now?’
Mark nodded. ‘Tell me about these anklets — how do they work?’
‘I don’t know what’s inside them, but Brad’s got some kind of direction-finding equipment. Last time we ran away he caught us within the hour.’
‘Why haven’t you cut them off?’
‘Brad told us they’ve got special metal reinforcing inside the rubber,’ Anne explained.
‘He inspects them every day,’ Louise added. ‘If you knew what he’s like, you’d understand why we haven’t tampered with them.’
Mark’s mind was racing. He guessed it wouldn’t be long before Brad and Hank realised the women had given them the slip and Brad would go and get the direction-finding equipment.
‘Fergus!’ he called as they neared the quayside.
Fergus stuck his head out of the companionway. ‘What the …’
‘Quick, find the bolt cutters,’ Mark shouted as he grabbed AWOL’s stern-line and pulled the yacht towards the wall. ‘Jump,’ he commanded as soon as AWOL was close. The women hesitated. There was a four foot drop. ‘Hurry, we need to get out of sight.’ He jumped down after them and they stumbled through the companionway and down the ladder into the cabin.
Everyone was talking at once. ‘We heard a burst of automatic gunfire a couple of hours ago — we thought you’d been shot,’ Jessica said.
‘Are we sailing now?’ Jane asked her father.
‘No, we’ll never get AWOL out of the harbour without being seen. And we need to get these anklets off.’
Fergus returned from the forepeak with the bolt cutters. ‘What are they?’ he asked, looking down at the women’s ankles.
‘Electronic tags.’
Commander Ball’s bolt cutters were massive. Even so it took the combined strength of Fergus and Mark to cut through the reinforcing. Once cut, it needed all Fergus’s power to force the severed gap in the anklets a few centimetres apart and slide them over the women’s feet. ‘Shall I ditch them over the side?’ he asked.
Mark shook his head. ‘We don’t know how sophisticated they are. The water’s not very deep here. I want to get them as far away from here as possible.’ He took the anklets from Fergus and began up the companionway. ‘Keep everyone below decks. If I’m not back by nightfall, leave as soon as you have a favourable breeze.’
‘We’re not going anywhere without you,’ Jane protested.
‘The safety of everyone, particularly the children, is paramount. Remember, I’m expendable,’ Mark said as he climbed the companionway steps.
14
From the safety of AWOL’s companionway Mark looked nervously in both directions. Once satisfied no one was in sight he scrambled into the cockpit, pulled the yacht against the harbour wall with the stern-line and clambered onto the walkway.
Keen to direct attention away from the harbour area he headed inland towards Balboa Park. As he ran he realised that in his haste to leave AWOL he had forgotten his rifle. He dared not go back. He cursed San Diego’s grid system of long, straight, wide streets and found himself constantly glancing over his shoulder.
He heard his pursuers long before he saw them. In the absence of the drone of traffic the sound of hooves clattering on roadways echoed off empty buildings. He picked up his pace and turned alternately left and right at each intersection in a desperate attempt to stay out of sight.
Reaching the undergrowth at the edge of Balboa Park he paused to catch his breath. Through the bushes he spotted Hank and Brad. They had halted their horses about four hundred yards away. Brad had earphones on and held an aerial above his head.
A few hundred yards into the park, running along a shallow gully, he noticed a drain grille. He stooped to drop the anklets through but, hearing running water below, he grabbed a nearby branch and after several attempts finally managed to lever off the cover. Then he slipped the anklets over the branch and dropped it into the water.
As the branch was swept from view he caught a brief glimpse of the riders through the undergrowth.
‘They’re very close,’ Brad shouted as he carefully swung the aerial backwards and forwards. Hank, holding his weapon at the ready, brought his horse to rest beside Brad’s. Mark cursed the time he had spent struggling to lever off the drain grille. They were now so close he dared not stand and run away, so he crawled nervously through the undergrowth.
‘This equipment’s telling me they’re directly underneath me,’ Brad said a few seconds later. He was angry at the apparent malfunction and gave the receiving set a thump with his closed fist. ‘They’ve got to be close by. Let’s circle around and find them.’
Brad’s horse began heading directly towards Mark’s hiding place. He had readied himself to stand and raise his hands above his head when Hank’s voice called, ‘I bet they’re hiding down this drain.’
Brad swung his horse around and Mark watched, relieved, as both horsemen dismounted. He crept further up the gully only to find the undergrowth petered out. He was trapped.
‘Crafty bitches,’ he heard Hank mutter.
Brad wasn’t amused. He poked his head into the drain and yelled. ‘Right, up you come.’
Nothing happened.
Brad lowered his head again and yelled angrily, ‘Are you coming up or am I coming down to get you?’ When still there was no reply, he shrieked, ‘If you don’t get up here right away you’ll regret it.’
He withdrew his head and said to Hank, ‘We’ll give them a damn good thrashing when we get them out.’
Hank laughed. ‘We’ll give them a damned good something else.’
‘We’ll give them that and then give them a damned good thrashing.’
Impatient for the sport that lay ahead, Hank lowered himself into the drain and disappeared from view. A minute later his voice echoed through the entrance. ‘It’s frigging dark down here.’
Eventually he re-emerged. ‘God knows where they are. The drain slopes downhill and the water level rises to the roof. I couldn’t get any further along.’
Brad walked over to his horse, picked up his antenna and began to move slowly backwards and forwards through the undergrowth. Finally, after much toing and froing he announced, ‘The bitches are holed up directly below.’
‘What now?’ Hank demanded.
Brad glanced at his watch. ‘I need to get back to Date Street. There’ll be two clients arriving shortly, and I’ll have to pacify the guys coming in for the next two sessions. I’ll come back with shovels as soon as I’ve taken care of that, and we’ll dig the bitches out.’
‘How do I know you won’t double-cross me?’
‘I’m hardly going to double-cross you, am I? I need them back as much as you do.’ Brad twiddled the knobs on his receiver. ‘I’ve set the equipment to sound an alarm if they move more than five yards,’ he explained. He walked a few yards and the alarm sounded, gaining in volume the further he went. As soon as he retraced his steps the alarm stopped. He put the equipment on the ground. ‘That’s where they are,’ he said, pointing. ‘Just sit tight and wait till I get back. If the alarm sounds, just move the equipment around till the noise stops. That way you’ll be able to follow them if they move.’
Mark watched, relieved, as Brad rode off. But there was still no opportunity for him to escape. Twice he thought Hank had fallen asleep, but each time as he prepared to creep away, the man stirred.
It was almost dark by the time Brad arrived back. He was carrying torches, shovels and dynamite. He picked up the receiver and moved it a few yards. The alarm sounded again. Satisfied, he returned th
e equipment and handed Hank the second shovel. As they commenced digging, Mark crawled away on his belly.
It was dark by the time he arrived back at AWOL. There was a good offshore breeze and he was both surprised and relieved to find Fergus had not obeyed his order to sail as soon as it was dark.
As he jumped down into AWOL’s cockpit with a thump, Fergus stuck his head through the companionway hatch and began removing the washboards. ‘Thank God,’ he said, the relief evident in his voice. ‘We thought you’d been captured.’
‘Then what are you still doing here? This breeze is perfect and there’s cloud cover. Let’s get going.’
‘Julie and the other women are refusing to leave.’
In a state of great agitation, Mark hurried down the companionway. Fergus replaced the washboards and turned on the red night lights, which illuminated the cabin and cast eerie shadows on the bulkhead. Mark noticed that all the hatches and windows had cardboard taped over the insides. AWOL seemed extremely crowded.
Jane sat at one end of the saloon table with Zach, Nicole and Audrey. On the other side of the table were crammed Jessica and the other children. The three San Diego women, Julie, Anne and Louise, were sitting on the couch opposite. With all seating taken, Fergus stood leaning against the bulkhead.
Mark stood at the foot of the companionway ladder, confronting them. ‘What the hell do you mean you won’t go?’ he asked. ‘Have you any idea what Hank and Brad have in store for you?’
‘I won’t go without my partner,’ Julie said.
‘Your what?’
‘Her partner,’ Fergus explained ‘Rick Hoff. Turns out Brad’s group are the crew of a nuclear sub. They’ve got the sub tied up alongside the old aircraft carrier Midway. They’re using the sub as a power source and the carrier as accommodation. It’s like a floating city apparently.’
Mark turned to Julie. ‘And your partner Rick’s on the Midway?’
‘Yes, he’s the captain’s steward.’
‘What time’s he off watch?’
‘He’s never off watch. He’s on call twenty-four hours a day.’
Blood Roots: Are the roots strong enough to save the pandemic survivors? Page 8
