No one witnessed this incredible event.
After eight minutes it was over.
Succumbing to currents, the First Lady of the Sea collapsed sideways like the building she resembled, settling her massive metal body into a blanket of silt that would bury her within the year.
Two weeks later
Washington DC, U.S.A
Memorial Ceremony for the 2106 people who perished on board the First Lady of the Sea disaster.
The President spoke in the park.
Coleman watched from the sidelines.
He’d paid his respects at the marble wall engraved with the names of the deceased. Thousands of names.
It felt surreal to see the names engraved in alphabetical order.
The memorial didn’t separate the sick from the healthy.
Hunters or hunted, psychotic or immune, they were all remembered on the wall.
They were all victims.
Everyone grieved.
This wasn’t the day for blame, although the same question returned to Coleman again and again. As he’d stood at the marble wall covered in the names of the deceased, the question pressed on his conscience.
Did I do enough?
The same thought plagued him after every mission, but never had he witnessed so many casualties.
‘Excuse me, sir.’
A small child had approached Coleman. She looked about seven years old.
Coleman knelt, glancing around for the girl’s parents. ‘Are you lost?’
The girl threw her arms around Coleman’s neck and hugged him. She hugged him fiercely.
Coleman rested his hand gently on her back.
David, his son, was the only other child to ever hug Coleman with such intensity.
Coleman patted her back and then awkwardly disengaged himself from the girl.
A man limped over and took the girl’s hand.
‘I’m sorry, Captain. This is my daughter, Amy. I told her what you did. She got away from me. I’m sorry.’
He began coaxing the girl away. Coleman noticed the man’s hand was bandaged. A nasty wound had been stitched along the hairline over his right eye.
‘Wait,’ said Coleman. ‘Do I know you?’
The man turned and straightened his suit.
‘You saved me on the ship,’ the man replied. ‘Me and about two hundred others who didn’t reach the lifeboats in time. I was with the people who jumped over the side.’
An image of hundreds of screaming and panicking people crammed against the ship’s railing flashed in Coleman’s mind. He pushed away the terrible image.
‘You saved yourselves,’ replied Coleman. ‘It was a brave thing to jump overboard and swim.’
The man shook his head. ‘You gave us that chance. I was in the stairwell. I saw what you did. You were holding them back. You spoke to me. You told me not to look back.’
More images flashed in Coleman’s mind. He remembered the last man fleeing from the sick passengers down the stairwell. The man had been blood-soaked and disoriented from a scalp wound.
Coleman suddenly remembered.
He pointed at the wounds on the man’s head and hand.
‘I remember you. You were the last person down the stairs.’
The man nodded. ‘You saved me and every person in front of me. You and the hotel manager.’
‘I wish we had saved more,’ admitted Coleman.
The man took his daughter’s hand and pointed toward the marble memorial wall. ‘Without you and your Marines there would be twice as many names on that wall. I was there to see what you did, and no one in the world could have asked for more.’
Neve watched the continuous procession of people leaving flowers and messages near the memorial. The line stretched back a long, long way.
Justin reappeared from the crowd. He looked grown up in his suit. He’d been gone some time. He sat beside her and plucked some grass off her wheel.
‘Did you find them?’
He nodded and pointed across the park, away from the memorial toward a fountain.
Neve felt relieved.
Justin had spoken little about what he’d been through on the ship. During the time they were separated - from being attacked in the hospital to being reunited on the lifeboat - he had told his mother almost nothing. Neve knew he’d been held captive by Christov, but Justin had provided only the barest details to allay her worst fears.
It was times like this she found it hardest to be a single parent. She had no one to truly share her concerns with. No one who truly cared for Justin as much as another parent would. All she could do was give Justin the space he obviously needed and wait.
So far his only persistent request was to see Myers and Craigson again. Her son had obviously bonded with the Marines.
Now that he had seen them again, Neve needed to know what he was thinking.
‘Did you talk with them?’
‘Yes. We went over to the fountain. Just the three of us. Sorry it took so long.’
‘What did you need to talk about?’
Justin looked from his mother down to his hands. ‘Stuff that happened.’
‘Things that happened when we were separated?’
Justin nodded.
‘Why can’t you talk to me about it?’
Justin tore the piece of grass into shreds. ‘I don’t know. But you don’t have to worry. I’m all right.’
Neve ran her hand over her son’s hair.
Justin looked where the bullets had torn through her calf and thigh.
‘How are your legs?’
‘Fine. I’ll take the bandages off tomorrow. As soon as I’m healed, we’re both going to get our scuba tickets.’
Justin looked at his mother. ‘I completely forgot about that. Don’t you want me to wait until I’m fifteen?’
‘No, Justin,’ he mom answered. ‘That just seems silly now. We both know you’re more than capable. A lot more.’
They sat quietly.
He stared at her legs.
‘Did we do the right thing, Mom?’
Neve knew what he meant. He was talking about the acid drive and the incredible information it had contained.
‘I’m positive we did the right thing,’ she answered.
Justin looked at the memorial wall and for a moment he was the image of his father.
‘I’ve never told you this,’ Neve began. ‘But the night you were born, your father described what kind of man he hoped you would become.’
‘Really?’
Neve nodded. ‘It’s like he already knew who you would be. You’re exactly who he described. He’d be as proud of you as I am.’
Justin smiled.
It was the first time she’d seen him smile in weeks.
Forest found it best to keep moving. The more he moved, the less he had to talk to people. He’d never felt comfortable in crowds, and even less so since what happened on the ship.
‘Excuse me,’ someone said, touching Forest’s arm.
Forest recognized the man’s face, but he didn’t have a name to go with it.
The older man reached out his hand.
‘You might not remember us.’
‘I remember you,’ said Forest, gripping the man’s hand and nodding to the young woman beside him. ‘You saved your granddaughter back on the ship. You’re a policeman, right?’
‘Retired,’ said the man. ‘My name is Burt. This is Amanda.’
Forest smiled at the young woman. She looked about Justin’s age.
‘We came today to thank you, Corporal Forest. To thank you for saving us.’
Forest shook his head. He was still coming to grips with the number of people who had perished. All the names on the memorial wall had overwhelmed him. The Captain had stood and read every name. Forest hadn’t even finished reading half the names before he needed to walk away.
‘I should have done more,’ Forest said.
Burt gripped Forest’s shoulder.
‘It always fee
ls that way,’ he said. ‘Even at my age. It always feels like you should have done more.’
Burt placed his other hand on his granddaughter’s shoulder. ‘But this time you saved the most precious thing in the world to me. Trust me. That’s more than enough.’
Without saying more, Burt led his granddaughter away.
Forest watched them go thoughtfully.
After a moment he walked back over to the memorial wall to finish reading the names.
Erin watched Ben Bryant place the wreath of flowers under the photo of his wife.
He stood there, his lips moving, saying whatever it was that people say when the person they love most is torn from their life.
Erin had spoken to everyone except Ben. She’d talked with Neve and Justin. She’d spoken to all the Marines.
The only person left was Ben.
Of them all, Ben had lost the most.
Karen had been Erin’s best friend. If anyone could understand what Ben was going through, it was Erin.
Ben turned and came away from the memorial, his head bowed, walking slowly. He was reading the engraving on the back of a small pocket compass.
When Erin touched his arm, he took a few moments to look up.
‘Erin,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d left.’
‘I was waiting for you.’
‘Why? What is it?’
‘My family asked if you would have lunch with us. My aunt will be there. She lost her son. My cousin. And her daughter-in-law. It would mean a lot to them if you came.’
Ben shook his head, obviously about to make an excuse.
Erin touched his arm. ‘I loved her too, Ben. You don’t have to grieve alone. All these people are here today so they don’t have to grieve alone.’
Ben looked over his shoulder at the memorial.
‘Please come,’ Erin persisted. ‘It might not help you, but it will help me.’
Ben nodded. ‘You’re a good person, Erin. Karen was lucky to have a friend like you. I really mean that.’
‘I know you do,’ said Erin, taking Bryant by the arm and leading him toward the waiting cars. ‘I feel the same way.’
Dressed in their formal uniforms, Craigson and Myers stood at the fountain where they’d spoken to Justin.
The two Marines had talked about Justin quite a lot over the last two weeks, so Craigson was glad to see him.
He was gladder now to know the boy would be all right. Justin had seen and survived some terrible things. They would be keeping in contact with their new friend.
‘It’s almost over,’ said Myers, looking across the park toward the memorial.
Cars were driving away and chairs were being folded up.
Myers fished a coin from his pocket and flicked it into the fountain.
‘Have you heard anything?’ he asked.
‘Not a thing,’ replied Craigson. ‘Nothing moves fast at the top. You know that. They have more important things to worry about than us.’
After several rounds of debriefing, neither Marine had been reassigned or given any indication of what they were supposed to do next.
‘I hate waiting,’ said Myers. ‘We did a good job, didn’t we?’
Craigson glanced toward the memorial wall.
‘There were only five of us,’ said Myers. ‘We couldn’t save everyone. We didn’t even have real weapons. We saved lives. Look at all the people who aren’t on that wall. If the brass can’t see that, then—’
‘Here he comes,’ cut in Craigson, interrupting Myers.
Both Marines snapped to attention as Captain Coleman approached.
‘At ease,’ said Coleman. ‘The brass is gone.’
Coleman studied both Marines from head to toe. ‘Your provisional deployment with my unit is over. You’ll need these. Read them now.’
He handed each men a letter.
Craigson quickly read the letter. He didn’t quite understand all the details and provisions.
‘What does this mean, Captain?’
‘It means you are both now permanently attached to my critical response team.’
Craigson and Myers looked at each other, and then back down to the letters.
‘Well?’ asked Coleman. ‘Is this what you want or not?’
‘This is the only thing I want, sir,’ replied Craigson.
Myers nodded.
Coleman extended his hand.
‘Then welcome to FAST.’
Six thousand miles away, in the basement of a long-abandoned orphanage on the border of Czechoslovakia and Poland, a man leaned forward in his creaky, canvas chair.
He studied the old television screen.
He’d listened as the President spoke.
He’d sat through the official speeches and the weeping goodbyes from family members.
He’d waited while they read out the names of the dead, all perished on the gigantic American cruise ship.
None of this interested him in the slightest.
He was looking for someone.
He watched the screen, scanning the faces...
...there.
He paused the screen.
There you are.
The camera had finally panned over the U.S. Marines who were on board the ship.
Bora sat back in his chair, satisfied.
Sergeant King’s face filled the screen.
I knew you would be there.
The huge black Marine towered over the men around him. He stared into the camera. He stared right through the camera with an expression of open challenge.
He’s knows I’m watching, thought Bora. Good. Then he knows I am coming.
Bora stood and laid his palm on the wall. Several stories up, he felt the vibrations of his team arriving at the rendezvous.
It was all coming together now.
Bora switched off the television, but not before taking one more look at that face.
‘See you soon.’
Thanks for reading my book!
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Acknowledgments
This is the first time I’ve written a ‘sequel’, and I hope I did the first book justice. More importantly, however, I hope you enjoyed reading it. This is my fifth book. If you are interested in my other titles, they can be found here:
FAST is available at AMAZON by CLICKING HERE
PLAZA is available at AMAZON by CLICKING HERE
MELT is available at AMAZON by CLICKING HERE
AFTER is available at AMAZON by CLICKING HERE
I have people to thank. I’d especially like to thank those people who share my book with others and write reviews. Feedback is always welcome, and any opinions or advice that can help me improve my writing is appreciated.
Please feel free to contact me directly about anything you like. I can be easily reached through my website at www.shanembrown.com
Special thanks to Alexander Ovchinnikov, (Creative Director for Milk Creative Agency) for permitting me to freely use his evocative artwork on my cover page.
This manuscript benefitted enormously from the advice and feedback from editors and test readers from right around the world. An extremely heartfelt thanks goes to Margaret Brown, Lisa Putman, Rob Molina, Paul Resnikoff, Sandra Barrios, Mike Lee, Bobbie Henry, Steven Wilson and all the other folks who took the time to read and help me fine tune the manuscript.
© Shane M Brown 2014
All rights reserved
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HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) Page 31
