SALT: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

by Colin F. Barnes

  “Interesting,” Marcus said, taking it.

  Danny rushed forward. “Hey, that’s my dad’s!”

  Marcus held the key up out of Danny’s reach while placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s okay, son. We’re just looking. You say it’s your dad’s… what’s it a key to?”

  “His quiet place,” Danny said. “Now give it back. It’s not yours.”

  “Quiet place?” Marcus said. “Where’s that, then?”

  Danny shrugged. Eva put her hand on the boy’s shoulders. “How often did Mike go to his quiet place, Dan?”

  The boy looked at her with uncertainty. She smiled at him. “It’s okay. You can tell me. I’m trying to help, remember? Me and you are a team, right?”

  “Maybe every few days. It was usually after my bedtime. Said he was going to read and work on a surprise.”

  “That’s all he said?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he used to take that key with him?”

  Danny nodded.

  Marcus took Eva’s arm gently and whispered, “Come outside with me. We need to talk without the kid. No funny business.”

  “Danny, you stay here for a moment with Ade. I just need to talk with Mr Graves, okay? I’ll just be outside here.”

  The boy looked concerned, but she left him with Ade, all the while watching Tyson and Shaley. There was something about this whole situation that set off her gut-feeling spidey-sense. It was all too much of a coincidence. There was some connection here, some story waiting to be told. The fact that Mike apparently had some secret place to visit in addition to the concerns of Graves told her that Jean knew something worth killing for; something that Mike knew too. If she could figure that out, it’d take her closer to her murderer.

  Once outside, they dropped their voices. Graves started. “Look, Eva, I know what you think of me, I’ve seen the way you look at me, but you’ve got to listen now and know I’m telling you the truth, okay?”

  “You talk, and I’ll tell you if I think you’re full of shit.”

  “Fine. First of all, I know about you and Mike’s little relationship. He told me everything the day before he left. The day he told me he was done on the project I had set him.”

  “What project?”

  “None of your business. Listen, I knew something was wrong with him that day. Now Mike’s a tough guy, he don’t scare easily, but there was something that he discovered that scared him shitless. He said if he stayed around, his family were in danger.”

  “Him going hasn’t changed that much, has it?”

  “Sadly, no, but you’ve got to believe me, I had nothing to do with Jean. I sent the boys round to help her move out because Mike had fixed her up a place on one of the yachts. That was his payment for the work he was doing for me. Jean was like one of the family to me, even if the boys didn’t get that message across.”

  “Cut to the chase, Graves. What’s this got to do with a memory stick, and why is it so important?”

  “I don’t know… yet. But someone wants it real bad. And if someone is willing to kill for it, it means it’s worth something. Besides, like you, I want to find the bastard and feed them to the fish.”

  “And you know for certain Mike had this memory stick?”

  “Yeah. He found it one day while exploring some of the newer boats. Found a cache in a safe.”

  “And let me guess, you cracked the safe?”

  “I can’t confirm or deny that. Either way, he kept the loot; I thought nothing of it. It looked like a pack of old rags to me. But there was this stick, you see, and some papers. Mike said they were encrypted, couldn’t read a word of them.”

  “Wait, why are you telling me all this? If this thing, whatever it is, is worth something, why get me involved? You know exactly what I think of you, and that opinion isn’t changing any time soon.”

  Marcus gave her a sly smile. She had to give him credit; he had a certain charisma, despite being a complete asshole.

  “Here’s the deal, love. I know what you were, know what you’re capable of. I want you to work for me, find this memory stick, find out what’s on those papers and what scared Mike so much he abandoned his family.”

  “And what’s in it for me?”

  “Protection, resources. This place is going to the shitter. Stuff’s breaking down, resources going missing. How long do you think Jim’s decisions are going to be tolerated? There’s mutiny afoot. And you know as well as I do what’ll happen if anarchy breaks out on this place: we’ll all be fucked. You help me solve this little riddle, you get the killer, and Danny gets a safe place with people capable of looking after him. And that extends to you too. When the shit hits the fan and this place splits, you’ll want to be on my side.”

  “Tell me one thing first,” Eva said.

  “What?”

  “That stupid business with Frank. What the hell was that all about?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing to do with me.”

  “And you know about his wife?”

  “I don’t believe that story. He came to me an hour before going after Jim. You know Frank’s an ex-crack addict, right? His brains are scrambled; fuck knows what goes on in there half the time.”

  “So you’ve seen her, then, his wife?”

  “I don’t keep tabs on everyone.”

  “That’s exactly what you do.”

  The sly grin again.

  “She’s fine. She was out working the compost bins last night. Frank’s talking shit. If someone put him up to take out ol’ Jim, they didn’t have his wife. He tried it for some other reason. But really, I couldn’t give a shit about the reasons behind it. Jim’s a dead man walking these days. If Frank didn’t take him out, one of Faust’s nutters will. She’s been whipping them up a storm lately.”

  “Fine, whatever. What exactly is it you think I can do for you?”

  “Investigation, love. I want you to find out where this key goes, and recover the stuff that Mike found before he fucked off. Before whoever killed Jean gets it. And besides, who the hell wants a killer running loose on this place? You’re an ex-copper, that’s kind of your thing, ain’t it? Better than fishing and being a general dogsbody, right?”

  He handed her the key.

  “Here, see, you can trust me. Take it, find out where it leads, and come to speak to me when you’ve got something to share. In the meantime, I’ll make sure Shaley and Tyson aren’t on your case. Hell, you can use them for your investigations if you want. They make good guard dogs.”

  “No, they don’t,” Eva said.

  Marcus chuckled. “Well, not against you, obviously, but they’re not all bad. We’ll also make sure the kid stays safe. You saw how easily Jim and Duncan let him out of their care. Poor kid. I’ll make sure I’ve got eyes on him at all times until you find the killer.”

  That was the tipping point for Eva. She couldn’t deny that Marcus’s influence covered most of the flotilla. He had people all over the place, keeping an eye on developments. If Danny was to remain safe while she was investigating Jean’s murder, it made sense to have Marcus’s resources backing her up.

  She held out a hand. “Why do I feel like I’m doing a deal with the devil?”

  Marcus bowed, took her hand, and kissed the back of her fingers.

  “Maybe you are, love, but better the devil you know, right?”

  Chapter 8

  Jim put the last rivet back in place and sat on his bed. The sound of waves battering the side of the Bravo echoed into the small room, the steel amplifying the water’s kisses. Thunder roared in the distance. If the weather kept up, it would be even more difficult to send a ‘volunteer.’

  He thought about visiting Frank, getting him to take Faust, but that would require too much trust. He couldn’t afford for
Frank to come back to the flotilla with the truth.

  A knock on the door made him start.

  “Captain? Are you in there? It’s Duncan.”

  Jim stood, looked around him to make sure he hadn’t left anything out, and unlocked the door. Duncan’s large frame filled the open space. Worry etched waves into his forehead beneath his long, wild hair. More a Viking as every day passed, Jim thought.

  “What is it, Dunc?”

  “Just wanted to give you a progress update. The hydropower should be back on in a few days. The engineering boys have figured out the problem. Someone smashed up the transformer. They’re putting together a new one.”

  “That’s good. With the way the storm’s coming in, that should generate enough power to recharge the batteries. What about the wind turbines?”

  “The main one took a real battering. Most of the gears and fins are damaged beyond repair. The guys say they can fabricate new parts, but it’s going to take a while.”

  “At least it’s something. That bitch Faust’s plans won’t stop us all just yet.”

  Duncan’s worry seemed to deepen.

  “What is it, son?”

  “We discovered the powered desalinators were destroyed last night. Even if we get the power back on, they’re beyond repair. Need parts that we just don’t have. We’re down to natural evaporation. We’ve got enough water stocks for about three days before we’re out.”

  “Faust’s people?”

  Duncan shrugged his hefty shoulders. “Hard to tell, but after her reaction this morning, I wouldn’t rule it out.”

  “This is not good,” Jim said, rubbing his face, all the while thinking of sending Faust to the sharks as a warning to her congregation. “You think this could be part of her plans for mutiny?”

  “Unless her idea of mutiny is to kill off most of the population, I don’t think so. It seems more calculated. You saw what she was like this morning. The woman’s nuts.”

  “But she’s clever,” Jim added. “Don’t underestimate the intellect behind the fury. She knows what she’s doing. Her flock grows bigger every day as people cling to any meaning to all this. We’ve got to keep this place together, Dunc. United, we’re safe.”

  “I know, Dad. I know.”

  “How’s Danny getting on?”

  “Oh, crap, I forgot to take the kid his breakfast.”

  “Do that now, son. That poor kid is probably scared and overwhelmed with grief. You see that he’s okay. After that, let Stanic know I want a word with him. There must be some way those desalinators can be fixed, and if anyone knows, it’s him.”

  “On it,” Duncan said as he dashed off down the corridor, ducking beneath the low beams and runs of pipes.

  Jim left his room and made to head toward the brig when he heard commotion coming from outside. Putting on his waterproof coat and hood, he headed out.

  Surrounding the bow and standing in a group on a number of smaller boats lashed to the Bravo’s railings, Faust’s congregation were calling for her release. At least half of the flotilla had come out of their boats and storage containers to watch the proceedings.

  Jim approached the group. They grew quiet. A single person stepped forward. A pale-skinned, sick-looking woman in her late sixties. “You have to release Susan Faust right this minute, Jim. You’re holding her unjustly. We can’t allow that to happen.”

  The politeness was a front; he’d seen this woman, Meredith, act as crazy as Faust once before, in one of their many rituals.

  “I can’t do that, Meredith,” Jim said, squinting against the rain as it splashed into his face. The wind whipped it almost at right angles. “She tried to steal the flotilla’s stocks. You and her know the rules for that.”

  “The divine will not allow it! He has spoken to her. She does his work.”

  “Look, divine entity or not, the rules are clear on this flotilla. You know it, she knows it, and everyone else knows it. I’m doing the will of the people. That supersedes any voices Susan may have heard in her head.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. It seemed to infuriate the woman. Her face twisted into a mask of hate. The rest of her group shouted and yelled, every word incomprehensible. As one, they moved from the smaller boats until they reached the ladders and steps that led up to the deck.

  Jim stood his ground. “I’m telling you people to stand back. I’ve done nothing wrong here.”

  That only appeared to encourage them as they started to climb onto the deck, forcing Jim to retreat. They gathered pace and number; at least thirty of them had climbed over the bow and were heading for him like an angry mob ready to lynch him. He had no doubt they would do it either.

  Driven by their mad priestess, these people could be stirred up to do almost anything in His name.

  They continued to stalk Jim, making him retreat to the bridge section. He couldn’t let them get in. They’d overrun the ship. But he was just one man. He stopped a few yards from the door.

  When it seemed like they would rush him, Duncan and three of his crew stepped out and stood by Jim’s side. Duncan held a gaff hook. “You lot, back up,” he said. “You’re out of order.”

  They stopped for a brief moment before seemingly swelling with fury.

  As a group they acted as one, following Meredith’s lead. Two younger men rushed forward and tried to disarm Duncan, but he was too quick and swung the blunt end of the pike, catching one of them on the side of the head, sending him slipping to the deck.

  “Stop,” Jim shouted over the wind and rain. “This is madness.”

  The words fell on deaf ears.

  “Kill him!” Meredith screamed, pointing her finger at Duncan.

  A smaller group of five men and women broke off from the pack and dashed toward Duncan. Jim and the crew members stood by him, braced for the impact. As they tangled in a melee, people throwing fists and kicks, Jim saw more people approach from one of the old fishing vessels to the side.

  Marcus Graves and three of his goons clambered over the railings and systematically dispersed the crowd, mostly by throwing them over the side of the railings onto the boats beneath. Once they had cleared nearly half the group, Meredith and her mad allies backed off, screaming obscenities.

  Eventually they retreated fully.

  Graves and Jim pushed them all the way to the edge of the bow and stood guard as they lowered themselves down onto the next level. “You lot, fuck off,” Graves said. “And don’t come back. Otherwise there’ll be a world of trouble even your god won’t protect you from, you hear me?”

  Meredith looked up from the bottom of the ladder and spat at the ground. “You’ll regret this, Graves,” she said. “You’ll burn in hell with him.” She pointed to Jim.

  “Bloody hell. What’s with all the burning?” Graves said.

  Together they watched Faust’s group disperse.

  “You’re bleeding, old man,” Graves said, pointing to Jim’s cheek.

  Jim dabbed a hand at it and winced. Someone had scratched him deep.

  Duncan approached, still carrying the gaff hook. “You okay, Dad?”

  “I’m fine. Just need to clean this up. Let’s get inside.”

  “Good idea, Captain,” Graves said. “I need to have a word with you.”

  Shaley and Tyson, grinning from the fight, stayed outside and kept watch like obedient dogs.

  ***

  “I’m telling you for the final time, Graves. Frank’s going nowhere. Attempted murder isn’t something I can easily forget. Besides, he’s scared out of his tiny mind. He doesn’t want to leave.”

  Jim stood opposite Marcus Graves in his bridge office. Marcus had taken Jim’s seat as though the office were his. Jim remained standing, not wanting to be at the other’s level. He pushed against the Band-Aid across h
is cheek. The cut was sore but had stopped bleeding.

  “That’s all crap, about his wife,” Graves said. “There’s no American threatening him.”

  “So why else did he come after me? On your orders, perhaps?”

  “Don’t be a twat, Jim. You think I’d send an idiot like Frank after you? If I wanted you dead, I’d do it myself.”

  Jim flinched at the threat. He was starting to get more than a little pissed off with people thinking he was expendable. “If it wasn’t for me, this flotilla would have self-destructed months ago. I’ve kept this place together, given us all a life. And if you forgot, I was elected to this position.”

  “Who are you trying to convince here, eh? You or me?”

  “What is it you want, Graves? I’ve got better things to do than waste my time with the likes of you.”

  “Easy, sunshine, let’s keep things respectful, shall we? No need to get all excited. Think of your heart. Take a seat.”

  “Like I said. Just tell me what you want.”

  “I want Frank back.”

  “Why? You said yourself you chucked him out of your little gang.”

  Marcus gave a little smile at the taunt. “My little gang has need of him for something, but it doesn’t need to trouble you. Here’s the deal. You give me Frank, and I’ll make sure Faust is… dealt with. She and her flock will no longer be an issue here.”

  “And why would you do that? It’s certainly not for saving my arse,” Jim said, scrutinising Graves, trying to figure out the man’s motivations. The way he lounged back all casual on Jim’s chair made Jim want to kick the legs out from beneath him and watch him fall.

  “Mutiny is in the air, Jim. That fracas today, that’s just the beginning. Both you and I, despite being polar opposites, know that if we’re all to survive, this flotilla has to function, it has to stay united… even if it means making a few sacrifices along the way.”