SALT: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

by Colin F. Barnes

  “What did you see, Mike?” Jim asked, trying to figure out if he had reached the destination.

  Mike said nothing, just kept mumbling random sounds. His body shook, and sweat poured from his forehead, making him look waxy beneath the cabin’s amber light.

  “Mike, it’s me, Jim, remember?”

  No response. He was completely catatonic. Thinking it was an advanced form of the infection, Jim backed off and climbed into his own boat. He got his radio and called for Dr Singh on the emergency medical channel.

  “Doctor Singh, this is Jim, do you read me, over?”

  The doctor’s words eventually came through after a period of static. “I read you, Jim. What’s happening? I heard Mike’s back.”

  “I’ve got him here. He’s sick, real sick. Can you meet me by the Alonsa? I’ll bring him there, away from the crowds.”

  “I’ll be right there, Jim, over.”

  ***

  Using the tide to his advantage, Jim pulsed the engine on his boat to drag the Tracer down the edge of the flotilla, away from the Bravo. He passed the ragtag collection of rafts, wrecks, and smaller boats until he approached his old ship, his pride and joy, the Alonsa. She made up the northern edge of the flotilla, providing protection from the harsh waves that filtered between the floating city and the Orizaba. A wooden bridge spanned a five-foot gap between the ragged entry point in the Alonsa’s hull and the main part of the flotilla.

  Doctor Singh stood on the bridge, wearing a facemask and gloves beneath her waterproofs. She waved to Jim, and he waved back to acknowledge her position.

  He gunned the engine until the diesel ran out.

  The momentum and the power of the tide pushed his boat and the Tracer toward the bridge. He spun the wheel to face the makeshift dock that he and Stanic’s team of engineers had built in the early days. Doctor Singh moved from the bridge to stand by the dock. When they were close enough, Jim threw her a rope. She expertly tied it off onto a bollard, tightening it as Jim navigated the pair of boats closer in.

  Jim shouted his thanks over the storm as he jumped up onto the dock and tied a second rope to secure the two boats.

  “He’s in there,” Jim said, explaining the symptoms.

  Doctor Singh climbed aboard and went in to assess Mike’s condition.

  A dozen flotilla citizens were approaching. “Is it him? Is it Mike?” Charles, one of the elderly skippers, said. “What did he find?” That was Chun, one of the surviving crew of the Chinese container ship. Darren, one of the entertainers from the Alonsa, added, “He found something, didn’t he, Jim? He must have done.”

  Behind the gathering, Eva and Danny approached.

  He couldn’t let the kid see Mike in this condition, but he had to tell him something. Moving through the crowd, Jim stopped Eva and Danny, and held his palms up. “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t go any further.”

  “Why?” Eva asked. “What’s going on?”

  Jim looked at Danny and thought he would just go with the truth. “I’m sorry, son, but your dad’s sick. It’s nothing to worry about just yet, but we have to get him to Singh’s medical room to make sure he’s okay.”

  “I want to see him,” Eva said.

  “I can’t allow that, Eva, I’m sorry.” Jim tried to keep his voice calm. “He might be contagious, and we can’t afford an outbreak. Let Doctor Singh see to him first, make sure he’s okay, and we’ll go from there. Take Danny back to the Bravo. I’ll be right over with more information as soon as I know anything else.”

  Eva’s face wasn’t that of someone who believed what he was saying, but he didn’t move, just waited until she gave in and agreed. “I’m coming to see him later, Jim, whatever the case may be.”

  “Sure, just give us time for now. I’ll explain more later.”

  “Come on, Danny. We’ll let the doctor make sure your dad is okay and see him later.” Despite the boy’s obvious disappointment and confusion, Eva trusted Jim and took him away.

  Keeping Mike wrapped in the tarp, and breathing through one of Singh’s facemasks, Jim helped her take him to the medical rooms. A cruise ship of that size didn’t have a fully equipped hospital, but it did have decent enough facilities that they had managed to create a set of quarantine rooms to help manage the spread of the bacterium.

  They carried Mike into the last empty one, setting him on a bed. The patients in the other rooms peered through the windows set in the wooden doors. Jim nodded his acknowledgement to them, but they just stared out. Poor bastards, he thought. Some of them had been in there for a year waiting for a cure, gradually growing weaker.

  Doctor Singh gave Jim some salt-washed antibacterial wipes to clean his hands when they left the quarantine zone and moved back into Singh’s office. Throughout the flotilla people washed their hands in salt baths. The salt helped to retard the spread of the bacteria.

  “So what do you think?” Jim asked. Even now, Mike was gibbering those weird sounds, his eyes focusing on something no one else could see.

  “Catatonic, high temperature, bloating. I’d say it’s the results of the infection on first look. Or at least a more advanced form. Where has he been?”

  Jim shrugged his shoulders. “No idea. Will he ever come out of the catatonia and be able to speak?”

  “At this stage, it’s impossible to say. If it has mutated, there’s no real way of knowing what the symptoms will be. I’ll have to do some tests and observe him.”

  “Will you call me first before any one else if he starts to talk? If he found something out there, I need to know first. We can’t let the flotilla panic over something until we know the full situation.”

  “Of course, Jim. And if you feel ill at any moment, come to me straight away. Although the bacterium hasn’t shown any signs of transmission through touch or air, we can’t rule out whatever this is.”

  “I’ll speak to you straight away, Doc. But call me as soon as anything happens.”

  Jim shook her hand and left, heading for the Bravo. He had to send a message, find out why Mike had come back. They had confirmed his arrival, so why was he here? A razor’s edge of anxiety cut at Jim’s every step back as he thought about what response he would get and what it meant for everyone.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t planned for. It wasn’t even considered in the contingencies. No one should come back.

  Chapter 11

  Eva knelt to face Danny. He sat on the edge of the bunk, rubbing the tears from his face.

  “I know, Dan, but they’re doing the right thing. I’m sure your dad will be fine. It’s just a precaution. You want him to be okay, don’t you?”

  “But I just want to see him. I don’t understand.”

  “We don’t know where he’s been or what’s happened to him. We just want to make sure he’s okay. Listen, I’ll go speak with the doctor and find out when you can visit, okay? But you’ve got to stay here and relax. Everything will be okay.”

  “You promise?”

  She hated when kids demanded that. How could she promise anything? If she didn’t, though, Danny would just fear the worst. Even with Emily, Eva was made to feel like a liar when her promises weren’t kept. Lying to a child was a necessary evil to protect them, allow them time to learn the truth in their own time. Eva just hoped that her promises and false hope would come true, and she could be spared the grief of the child knowing she lied to them.

  She held his hand between hers. “I promise. But you’ve got to promise me something in return. You have to promise me you’ll stay here; don’t go running off anywhere, okay?”

  “Okay, I guess,” he said.

  “There’s a good lad. It’s getting late. You try to get some sleep, and we’ll hopefully go and see your dad in the morning. I’m sure he must be very tired after his adventure. The
sooner you sleep, the sooner you’ll get to see him.”

  “Like Christmas,” Danny said. “Dad always said to go to sleep quickly so we would get our presents sooner.”

  “Exactly like that.”

  Eva kissed him on the head and pulled the blankets of the bunk over him. “I’ll see you in the morning. If you need anything, Duncan and Jim are just in the next cabins.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “I’ll be back here later, Dan. I just have to take care of a few things.”

  After saying their goodnights, she closed the cabin door behind her and headed out to the Alonsa. She wanted to see Mike, find out what the situation was.

  “Hey,” Duncan said, coming out of a narrow corridor, his great bulk filling up the space. “I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?” Eva said, her head full of thoughts and her memory failing.

  Duncan pulled her into the corridor and looked around before placing a key into her palm. He leant in close and whispered, “The key to the scuba storage as promised.”

  Of course, she thought, the case suddenly rushing back to her.

  “Be quick, while my dad’s preoccupied. They’re kept in the hold. Everyone is too busy gossiping to pay attention. You should be able to get there and out without anyone seeing you. But if you’re caught, I didn’t give you the key, okay?”

  “Won’t Jim know they’re gone?”

  “Probably not. He’s freaking out over this Mike thing. People are going to be bugging him for hours.”

  “Thanks,” Eva said, giving Duncan a quick hug, but as she made to move away, Duncan’s arms squeezed her close.

  “Be careful,” he said before releasing her.

  “I… will.” She turned away, hiding her blush, and set off. She still intended to see Mike first. She could come back and get the scuba gear a little later. By then everyone would be back on their respective boats gossiping about the news.

  Eva made her way through the tight corridors. Ducting, cables, and tubes ran overhead. Every footstep rang out, echoing. Shadows gathered at every turn. She didn’t understand why Jim and the others, elected to oversee the running of the flotilla, chose this old destroyer instead of the more comfortable surroundings of the Alonsa. She’d hate to live in the tight confines of this vessel. All the grey decor and sparse, militaristic stylings reminded her of the time before the drowning: all those unnecessary wars. Perhaps what they had now was better. As soon as she thought that, she admonished herself. For all she knew, those on the flotilla were the only ones left. That much death was never preferable in any circumstance.

  Humanity wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t mean it was better they didn’t exist at all.

  She climbed the metal steps to the upper decks and bumped into Jim along the way. He looked distracted, tired.

  “Sorry,” Eva said. “I didn’t see you there.”

  Jim backed up to let her by, mumbled something, but then reached out and grabbed her arm. She spun round. “What is it, Jim?”

  He gestured to a low open doorway into the wheelhouse. She went in as he followed behind her. He closed the door.

  “Jim?”

  “You’ve got to stay away from Mike,” Jim said. His face was harsh, serious.

  “Why? What’s going on? What are you hiding from us?”

  Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why does everyone have to question everything? I’m telling you, stay away from Mike. He’s sick. Really sick.”

  “The bacteria?”

  “Worse. Far worse. We don’t know what it is. But he can’t talk, and he looks real bad. Singh’s running what tests she can to figure this out, but he’s in quarantine until we know more. We have no idea what he found out there. I can’t afford to let anyone else near him. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  Eva took a step back, not liking Jim’s expression. She always knew he had a lot of pressure, but for the most part he handled it like the true captain he was, but now, it was as though she were looking at someone else completely.

  “Okay, Jim, I get it. Did he say anything at all?”

  “No. He can’t talk.” Jim’s shoulder relaxed as he exhaled and slumped against the door. He rubbed his face and seemed to age a decade. “God knows what we’re gonna tell his kid. It’s not looking good. Mike’s just murmuring a load of gibberish. It’s like his body is alive but no one’s at home.”

  Eva reached out and touched Jim’s shoulder. “I understand. You’re looking tired, Jim. Why don’t you get some sleep? We don’t want you getting ill too. Who else is going to hold us all together, huh?”

  Jim looked at her, opened his mouth, and was about to speak when he gave her a wan smile and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll head off now. Give me time, and I’ll make sure you’re one of the first to see Mike when Singh gives me the go-ahead. But please, Eva, trust me on this.”

  “I trust you, Jim. Now, go, get some rest.”

  Jim nodded, turned, and opened the door. Together they left the wheelhouse. Jim headed down to the cabins. When he was out of view, Eva turned the other way and headed for the hold storage in the lower decks. She’d stay away from Mike for now, but she would still take advantage of this opportunity to grab the scuba gear and take a look inside the sub.

  ***

  Eva took the scuba gear from the locker, placed it inside one of the storage sacks, and left the ship. Once on the upper deck, she lowered herself down onto the trawler where Jean was killed and took the long, remote route around the flotilla until she reached Marcus’s yacht, fighting the wind and rain as she went.

  Through the window she could see Marcus and his family sitting with Ade around a table, playing cards. She tapped on the window.

  Ade came out.

  “You get the gear, girl?”

  “Yeah, Duncan came through. You ever scuba-dived before?”

  “Like a fish.”

  “Come on, then. Let’s go check it out.”

  The rain ran off Ade’s face. His wide grin seemed to catch the moonlight through the parting clouds. Eva shivered at the thought of diving down in the dark.

  Although the sub wasn’t very far from the flotilla, just fifty feet off the rearmost vessel and thirty feet below the surface, the thought of spending any time in the water at all without seeing what was swimming around them almost made her change her mind. But then she remembered Jean. She had to find the killer, and this was her only lead. She had to see it through.

  Chapter 12

  Jim locked the door behind him and performed his ritual with the practised movements of a junkie preparing their next fix: bunk up, panel off, box out, bunk down, radio on and send. He waited, watching the little black square on the screen, waiting for it to flash twice to indicate the message had got through. Nothing. No one home.

  He disconnected the antenna and slammed the radio back into the box, spilling the papers and notebook onto the bunk. His hands shook, and he became lightheaded with a thousand unanswered questions. If they weren’t answering, then it would likely mean she wasn’t there any more. His one guiding light, his one focus that kept him believing they would eventually find a future, a home. And worse, there was nothing he could do to find out, not without leaving the flotilla, not without leaving his only son behind.

  Taking the dozens of paper messages with the printed encrypted text, he folded them neatly and placed them back in the box. The notebook with the last agreed encryption key went into his shirt pocket.

  Placing the box back behind the panel, Jim collapsed onto the bunk and forced himself to think things through, find a way forward out of this mess. That Mike wasn’t talking gave him time, but how long that would last, he couldn’t tell.

  The plan of sending Susan Faust was of no use now.

  With Mike b
ack, there was no way he could justify sending her, and although Graves had agreed to take care of her in exchange for Frank’s release, there was no point in sending her out when there was no one to receive her.

  But she still posed a problem with her mad rhetoric. He still suspected her and her group of acolytes of sabotaging the hydro and wind turbines. Then there was Frank. He was one problem Jim didn’t want to have to deal with.

  The weight of responsibility threatened to crush his chest as his breath became shallow. He pictured himself before the world drowned, captaining the Alonsa on her maiden voyage. A nice cruise around South America. He pictured the warm weather, the beaches that he managed to enjoy for a few snatched hours during stops. He pictured the guests on board enjoying the ship’s roster of entertainment and how they would all greet him with smiles and admiration.

  In those days, his leadership was something to respect, and he worked hard to live up to those standards, but here, on the flotilla, things had a chaotic nature that he was increasingly finding difficult to cope with. Perhaps he should just step down, hand it over to Graves or Faust or whoever thought they could do a better job.

  Burdened by indecision, he left to pay Mike another visit, just in case those murmurings turned to words, and those words turned to accusations and revelations.

  ***

  Jim decided to take the route through the container ship. Might as well check on the stocks and storage while he was out and about. An opportunity to make sure none of Faust’s congregation were trying to steal any more fuel, water, or food.