by Logan Keys
Luckman nodded. “Yes. I think it would be wise.”
“Hey, lady,” Holtz spat and Luckman cringed again. “Get us to Picton and save yourself. What else have you got to do? You can’t arrest dead people.”
She ignored Holtz and looked at Luckman instead. “You’ve seen this before?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
She nodded. “There were calls at first, strange ones. I’m not exactly sure how to explain it.”
Luckman already knew. They had been watching people freeze to death in moments. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing, and if they were seeing it, they were already dead.
The woman nodded and grabbed for her radio. “We need to call for an evacuation. See if someone can get ahold of the department head.”
She hung up. “I’ll take you to the ferry, but I can’t promise you guys will find a spot on the crossing. They’ve been running back and forth to break up the ice to keep it passable, but…well, you’ll see.”
**
And Luckman did see what she meant. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when the car pulled up to the docks in Picton. There must have been at least twenty thousand survivors down at the port, all jostling to get on to the ferry, frantic after seeing the killing cold in action.
The officer let them out of the Jeep and untied them. “Good luck,” she said
“You’re not coming with us?” Luckman asked, rubbing his wrists.
“I have to keep looking for survivors.”
He nodded, but he wondered if someone was waiting for her across the water. He and Holtz made their way down towards the crazy mess of people all knotted together at the edge of the pier. One ferry was there, sagging on one side that had filled up too full of people. This side of the island wasn’t frozen…yet.
People were boarding by brute force, running over others who’d fallen, fist fighting for spots on the ferry. Children were crying and adults screamed in fear and pain as they were stampeded over and got separated from their loved ones. The boatmen were doing their best to stop it from overflowing with people, but quickly, the stories on the ferry were fit to burst, and passengers were squeezed into every space like sardines. The boatman shouted for them to stop, that they were full, but no one would listen. At the entrance from the dock to the ferry, he forced some back until a man attacked him, pushing him overboard into the icy water. A few other people reached down and snagged his jacket to get him out.
But more forced their way on board and several others fell off the boat into the water. Soon, there was a rush of people shoving onto the boat as others toppled from the sides. The ones in the water were trying to swim back to shore, but the ice was keeping them from reaching the actual land. A few looked as though they’d already gone into shock and weren’t moving anymore.
The ferryman blew his horn, and even with people still trying to board, the ferry shot off from the pier, leaving some to step out into thin air and fall in the water. Luckman knew the chances of him getting on a boat were slim to none as he watched them motor off into the distance. But nevertheless, he had to try. He didn’t like the idea of taking a spot on the ferry from some other poor soul, but he was just ahead of the storm, and what if he could still make it to New York in time? He had to try his best.
Holtz ran down to the edge of the water, using his self-importance to try and get himself a spot. Luckman instead approached a fairly official looking man who was surveying the chaos with a pipe in his mouth. His jacket had an anchor embroidered on the sleeve, so Luckman assumed he was with those running things down here.
“Excuse me,” Luckman said. “Do you know how many people they’re going to be able to take across?”
“Not enough,” the man said, and he sucked on his pipe pushing smoke out from between his lips that were almost invisible underneath a thick, red beard. “We won’t be able to run them much longer. The channel’s icing over. You American?”
“Yes.”
He nodded like he thought so. “What are you doing here? Tourist?”
“No. I was actually supposed to fly out of here to New York to warn them about this freeze. Looks like it might be too late for that now.”
“Are you a big wig scientist or something?”
“Or something.”
The guy laughed.
But they both quieted as the wind picked up and the chill with it. It was like a warning.
“So, we’re stuck, huh? Any idea what would be fun to do while I’m spending my last moments?” Luckman said tightly.
“I’m not stuck. I own the boats. I’ll be on the next one that comes.”
“Best purchase you ever made.”
The guy laughed again. “You sure are funny for a scientist.” He winked. “Maybe you’ll get lucky,” he said to Luckman before he made his way toward the line of people.
“The story of my life,” Luckman said, though no one was around to hear it.
Down on the pier, they were fishing people out of the water, and some of them looked too far gone. Luckman remembered the twenty-minute rule.
The next ferry arrived, and he watched Holtz fight his way to the front of the line. He was pushed back, and a big man had him by the shirt threatening him. The man with the pipe turned around and spotted Luckman, waved farewell, and then he turned to board his boat.
Ah well, Luckman thought. The disaster had caught up with him after all.
The man with the pipe stood in front of the line and words were exchanged. The man who held Holtz put him down, and rounded to face the ferry’s owner instead. It was obvious the man who’d had Holtz found a bigger fish to fry and he turned and shouted something to the crowd. It passed along until Luckman heard a man closer to him say, “They said they’re shutting the ferries down!”
People were screaming at the owner; he just watched them, his pipe puffing big rings of smoke out, but they looked ready to tear him apart. Luckman saw it was going to turn ugly and fast when the group started shoving the boat owner around, demanding he let them through. Luckman quickly glanced around and caught sight of the same Jeep from before driving in his direction. He ran towards the vehicle. “Officer!” he shouted and she stopped the car and rolled down the window. “Down there; they’re going insane!”
“They have been all day. Nothing I can do about it. The ferry should have brought some security with them.”
“They’re going to kill the owner if you don’t do something!”
She hesitated, then lifted her radio. “We need more people at the pier.”
Luckman didn’t stop leaning on her car, trying to keep her from leaving. She sighed and got out. Reaching back into her jeep she brought out a shotgun, and her partner did the same thing. Luckman was behind them as they approached the pier and the woman officer shouted, “I need everyone to stay calm!”
No one was listening, and the big man was about to smash the ferry owner in the face. She pointed her shotgun to the sky, fired, then she did it again for good measure. Luckman flinched but then smiled when he saw everyone stop fighting.
“I need you all to get into a line in a calm and orderly fashion. Sir,” she called to the boat owner. “Are you okay?”
He dusted off his jacket, pipe still in his mouth, and nodded. He motioned towards Luckman in thanks for saving him, then said, “You,” between his teeth, waving Luckman forward.
He gave the woman officer a look of thanks, and Luckman pushed his way through the crowd.
Holtz saw him going and shouted, “I’m with him! I’m with him!” The man with the pipe nodded and let them on board. The ferry filled up immediately and, like before, Luckman was squeezed tightly on the top floor, up against the edge. They had to break away from the pier the same as the last one had, and people fell into the water again.
“Poor suckers,” Holtz said, but he didn’t sound sad.
Luckman watched the female officer pulling people from the water before she glanced up at him and did a little salute goodbye.
He
knew two things about that lady officer…woman police person…that she was going to die there. And that she was a hero.
**
The moment they could no longer see the pier, they sailed beneath dark clouds and the waves doubled and tripled in size. The channel was dark and sloppy, and the chop was…choppy. Luckman gripped the edge of the ferry as it began to swing up and down, pushing water over every ledge, soaking everyone to the bone. The wind howled as if it knew they were stealing away from certain death, and it was the tattletale letting mother nature know that the humans dared try to get away.
Luckman’s stomach churned as the green sea swirled, and the worst part was that it wasn’t letting up; it was only getting worse. Luckman watched the man with the pipe come out onto his side of the ferry and he somehow worked his way toward the owner. “Is this normal?” he shouted into the din.
“It happens,” the owner replied, nodding. “Good thing there’s no cargo. Usually that bangs around and gets damaged, but we’ve hit a lot of storms like this before. No worries, man. She can handle it!”
He must have been right because they were sailing onward still, and it didn’t look like they would capsize. But it felt like any moment that could change.
“Not far now,” someone called. It had been hours, he knew, mostly with him huddled against the cold, feeling his toes and fingers begin to frostbite. A dreary fog rolled in to add to the feeling that something wasn’t right. The hull shuddered and there was an awful sound, like metal ripping.
“We’ve hit ice!” someone shouted and Luckman pushed people aside to lean over the railing to see. There it was, just beneath the waves, that pretty turquoise hue, a ghost ’berg that had floated into the channel. Luckman hung over the side at the waist to find that the iceberg had ripped into the ferry’s hull. As if the boat needed to react on cue to Luckman’s look, it keeled over at an angle, and he waited for it to right itself, but it didn’t. The tear wasn’t all the way below the waterline, but it was far enough down—and wide enough—that water was quickly rushing into the decks below.
People were frantically shouting for help, being swept away into the current of rushing water. Luckman watched in horror as they were forced out to sea, others simply disappearing into the dark blue, without being seen again.
But he didn’t have time to think about it as the boat keeled to the side, and he and all of the people on his level were thrown against the wall with the rail above them now.
“Help us!” a lady shouted, hanging from the rail with her child in her arms.
Luckman helped her to a place next to him.
“Where are the life boats?” he called.
A person who was shoving vests into people’s hands gave him one and answered, “We only have these!”
Luckman remembered where he’d seen the owner go before, so he pulled his way to that door and kicked it open, falling inside. The owner was calling on the radio, “SOS, our coordinates are…”
When the owner was finished speaking with whoever was on the line, he turned to his workers. “They said an hour is the quickest they’ll arrive.”
“Where are the life boats?” Luckman demanded.
“We only have two,” the man answered. “We were trying to make room for as many people as possible!” Luckman felt sick, and he turned away, pushing onto the deck as the ship leaned further onto its side, slowly capitulating to the sea.
One hour. If they could just make it one hour.
But he knew better than that. Twenty minutes. That was all they had.
Holtz approached him then, looking about to say something. Instead, he grabbed Luckman’s life jacket from him and pushed his way through the crowd.
Luckman watched him go with his mouth open in shock. The boatmen deployed the two lifeboats and Luckman helped them round up women and children for one of the boats while the other was fishing some people out of the water until they reached capacity, having to beat back anyone else who tried to get on board. Soon, both boats had to pull far away from the growing number of swimmers trying to stay afloat.
The ferry finished its sideways dive and the water came up to meet the second story. Luckman was washed away before being sucked downward. He let it take him for a moment, fighting against the strong reflex to breathe in the cold water, before kicking his way to the surface.
He found a woman and a child who’d been missed before in the chaos, and Luckman told her to stop screaming. He calmed them, before they swam toward the boats, hoping not to draw attention of the hundreds of others, and he managed to get her and her daughter on board.
The cold water was making it hard to think and move, but he swam back to look for more. He focused on those that he could spot through the waves and found two more people before he was pushed out too far, and the waves began to carry him out into the vast nothingness.
His teeth chattered, and ice formed on his lashes which made it hard to see. The world turned one color of gray as he leaned back to float, too tired to go on, knowing hypothermia must have set in already. It may have been ten minutes, he thought, and now he had ten to go. There were no more screams or calls for help, only the sound of the splashing, angry ocean. Fools, he thought, knowing he’d turned fatalistic. Humans were fools, and now they were paying for it.
But then Holtz would be right and that didn’t sit well with Luckman at all.
Fifteen minutes. It had to have been at least that…Luckman watched the gray sky above him and his last thought was he wished he’d had his life jacket.
Chapter Eleven
Just outside Chicago
They got back to the van and Bart was holding his hands out expectantly as if to say “What took you so long,” until they got close enough and he saw their expressions and the dark masks of black soot on their faces. His mouth dropped open. “What happened?” he asked.
Brittany sighed. “This is Rick. And this is Rex.”
Colton shook his head and did not answer his brother either.
Brittany got inside of the van to check on the kids. “Brittany!” Benton called, and she turned to find both kids had tearstained faces. “Hey, hey,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“We thought something happened to you,” Lily said. “Something bad. Like those dead people at the houses.”
Brittany frowned. “You saw dead people, huh?” She felt guilty for not shielding them enough from everything. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I won’t leave you again, okay? Plus, I brought a doggy!”
“A dog!” Benton pressed his face against the glass and Lily copied him. They had woken up without her and it must have been scary. Colton and Bart were outside and they were stamping their feet, hands in their pockets, talking to Rick. He was nodding his head. Hopefully they were making plans as night arrived, the light barely hanging on as if someone had put a scarf over a lamp that was the sun.
Brittany told them, “I’ll be right back.” But they gripped onto her tightly. “Hey guys, it’s okay. I promise I won’t leave you. Let me just find out what we’re going to do, okay?”
She stepped out of the van as Colton mentioned seeing farm houses nearby and suggested finding a place to sleep for the night with their camping gear. Rick thanked Colton when he offered to let him use the extra sleeping bag and tent if they couldn’t find a place to go inside. Brittany and Bart packed up their belongings while Colton showed Rex to the children. The dog was a lot calmer and nicer to them than he’d been all day and he seemed to take a loving interest in Benton right from the start. The big German Shepherd’s thick tail beat the ground as he sat next to the young boy, eyes focused on his every move.
They locked the van and hiked into the fields for a few acres, and Brittany hoped they’d find a place to rest since she was too tired to put up a tent for the night. The kids played fetch with Rex until he was too tired and Brittany told them to let him relax.
She petted Rex’s head, squatting down to meet his eyes. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” His ears p
ricked, and she smiled. “Smart boy, I bet.”
The dog moved alongside Benton again and Brittany’s heart ached to think they’d have to say goodbye eventually. A few more acres and they were all freezing. Just when she figured they’d have to give up and sleep in a field, she spotted something. Bart saw it, too. “There!” he said with excitement. “Through those trees. The edge of a roof.”
They kept on walking and sure enough, it was a house and barn. Rex barked and ran ahead but Brittany told Benton to call him back, not wanting him to hurt any livestock. But she needn’t have worried. As she got closer she saw there was nothing.
“Abandoned,” Colton said with a smile.
The house was worse for the wear, obviously left long before the disaster, and it had a barn, too, that was dilapidated. For them, it seemed like paradise.
**
Colton told Brittany and the kids to take the house. He thought it would be nice for her to have some privacy. After checking to make sure it was empty, he left her, Benton, and Lily with a few heaters and their bags. Rex acted like he wanted to stay with Benton and Rick didn’t seem to mind. Colton said goodnight, and Brittany was so dead on her feet that all he got was a mumbled reply. He hoped they’d finally get a good night sleep. It was overdue.
Rick and Bart had already set up bags and heaters in the barn. The roof had a hole in it so they could see the stars, but if the wind picked up they were shielded from the brunt of the cold. It was as good as a hotel room to Colton. Rick thanked them again for giving him a bag to sleep in and sharing some of their food and warmth. Colton told him it was no problem and then Bart peppered him with questions about what it was like to be cop.
“Boring. Mostly. I work transporting prisoners and so a lot of paperwork.”
“You transport prisoners?”
Colton remembered Rick saying before, when they first met him, that one prisoner had gotten away. He thought about changing his mind and offering to sleep in the house instead, but again, he thought maybe Brittany needed her space. She and the kids had the dog and she also had a gun.
