Jim stopped and gazed out of the porthole. Black clouds raced past the moon, casting the waters in stripes of black and silver, making it seem as though it moved in jitters and jolts.
“What happened to her and her team?” Eva asked, leaning forward. A distant memory came to her mind of her sitting at the feet of her grandfather one Christmas while he told a story.
“She continued to study the infection. Here on the flotilla we noticed people getting sick from the rainwater, which is why we try to only ever use desalinated water. Angelina believed that the water that evaporated off the sea’s surface and mingled with the atmosphere created an incubation state for this bacterium. By desalinating it and drinking it relatively quickly, the spores don’t have time to develop.”
Although Eva was starting to understand, she remembered her training not to rely on instincts, never to guess. She needed facts. And this confession from Jim was the best time to get them. “Tell me more about Angelina and her team. Where were they? And why the secrecy?”
Jim closed his eyes for a brief moment and rubbed his face. He dropped his head as though in mourning.
“Jim?”
He lifted his head, opening his eyes. “Sorry. Yes, Angelina… it was a small flotilla of four boats, north of the Orizaba. The idea was they would intercept the survivors we sent out. One of the reasons I had to send them was to deliver resources to the scientists over there. Unlike us, they didn’t have the facilities or the manpower to fish. Nor did they have the fuel we did. So every month we would send them extra resources to help them to keep doing research.”
“So they were doing all that for us?”
“Yes. And for anyone else who might have survived this. I sent them information about the spread of the infection here, how it was speeding up. Angelina believed it was adapting and mutating. When we had the chance, that’s why I sent Mike.”
Eva thought through his words while she looked out of the porthole, looking north past the mountain peak, wondering what they were like, Angelina and the scientists. Wondering what they learned.
“Wait,” Eva said, realising. “No one came back. You were sending them to be tested on, weren’t you?”
Jim’s silence confirmed it. As did the guilty expression on his face. His eyes were glossy in the moonlight. Eva had often seen grown men, tough men, break down in the interrogation room. Not because of the punishment they were facing, but for the release of what they had done.
“Is Mike the only one that survived?” Eva asked, trying to keep the tremble of anger from her voice. She had to try to understand, learn as much as possible. There still might be hope for Mike and everyone else on the flotilla, but she couldn’t lose Jim’s cooperation, not while he was in this mood of admission.
Jim shook his head.
“None were killed. They were only ever used to test possible vaccinations. Up until yesterday Angelina had assured me they were being looked after. Some were looking promising. She thought she might have had a breakthrough in identifying a potential vaccine.”
“So what happened with Mike?”
“That’s just it,” Jim said. “I don’t know. Since he returned I’ve not received any messages, and the messages I’ve sent haven’t been acknowledged. Something catastrophic must have happened.”
“Why have you kept this a secret all this time?” Eva asked, though as even as she said the words, she knew.
“It would destroy the flotilla. The science vessels would be overwhelmed. There was also the problem of the infection. It’s still not entirely clear how it is transmitted from one person to another. They had to remain apart from us. By the time the lies had started, it was too late to do anything else. It would have split the flotilla apart. But I guess it’s too late for that as well, now, isn’t it?”
“So that’s why you were so eager to talk with Mike. You didn’t want him revealing your secret.”
“There’s that, yes,” Jim admitted. “But I also want to understand what happened out there. What went wrong? Is there anyone left? Eva, now you know, you can’t say anything about all this.” He pointed to the radio and the coded messages. “You know what it’s like out there at the moment with the water running out, the problems with the power, not to mention Graves and that bitch Faust jockeying for position.”
And that’s what she was afraid of: being made a part of the conspiracy. She hated the position it put her in. But she could understand it all from Jim’s point of view.
In a bizarre way, despite his actions, he had proven to her that he was a good man and was doing all this, taking the huge amount of pressure on his shoulders, for the greater good.
She knew exactly what would happen if this got out.
The already strained relations between Jim and Faust’s group, not to mention Graves always sniffing around in the shadows waiting for an opportunity, would erupt.
The power vacuum would create a lot of unnecessary division.
With a killer and saboteurs on the loose, this wasn’t the time to unleash a power struggle. As a group they had to remain as united as possible.
There was still a chance she could use this to her advantage.
“Jim, I’ll agree to keep your secrets safe, but you have to do something for me in return.”
He leaned forward, his eyebrows rising in hope. “What is it? What do you want?”
“The working manifest you keep for the engineering department. I believe it will be crucial in narrowing down suspects for the murders.”
“Of course. It’s in the bridge office safe; it’s yours.”
“But there’s something else, too,” Eva said. “In the morning, I want you to let Faust go. Show them kindness and forgiveness and take some of the wind out of their sails. You might just buy enough time to sort all this out before they revolt.”
“Are you serious? The woman’s a cancer.”
“Your choice, Jim. Let her go, or I’ll explain to everyone what you’ve done. And don’t think I won’t.”
Jim shook his head. His face took on a pained expression. Eva knew it was no real choice. Not only would the truth undermine his position and turn the flotilla into chaos, but he would probably be lynched.
“Fine, but I won’t be held responsible for her actions.”
“No, but you will be for your own. Make this right.”
***
By the time Eva left his cabin, Jim had shown her where to hide the radio and how to decode the messages using the encryption key from his notebook. She left him snoring on his bunk and took the notebook with her. She realised it might help her decode the information taken from the sub. It was a long shot, but even if it just gave them some clue as to how to go about dealing with the indecipherable text, it was worth it.
Before she left, Eva stopped by Danny’s cabin. He was fast asleep, tired after his day working with the crew. Eva stood outside with Duncan.
“How’s the wound?” he asked.
“Sore, but not fatal. I wanted to thank you, you know, for saving my ass. I really appreciate it.”
“I didn’t get a chance to ask you. What was in the files you found? Graves took them off me when I dragged you out of the water before I had a chance to look. Was it worth Ade’s death?”
“No,” Eva said. “Nothing was worth that. But it’s a lead to the killer. I think it’s the object, or at least the information contained within, that he wants. But right now I can’t tell you any more.”
“Can’t?” Duncan said, folding his arms across his chest. “Or won’t?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m keeping something from you?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
“No, and I resent that you think I would lie to you. For your information, we don’t know what’s in the files, as they’re al
l encrypted. All we know is that the killer wants them desperately.”
“And Graves no doubt realises it has value.”
She stopped herself from defending Marcus Graves, even though, so far, he was proving to be a useful ally in the mission to find whoever this killer was.
“Listen,” Eva said, softening her voice, trying to diffuse the tension that had built up between her and Duncan. “I’ve got a lead. Jim’s given me access to the working manifest. We’ve narrowed it down to an American male who has at some point worked in engineering and used their equipment to make key copies. It’s also someone who has had access to your dad’s keys.”
“By my reckoning, that’s got to be at least one of twenty potential suspects,” Duncan said.
“It’s something,” Eva said with a shrug. “There’s something else. About your dad.”
“I know, he’s getting on everyone’s case at the moment. He’s just tense about Mike. Has he had a go at you too?”
“Not quite. Let’s just say he got a bit upset with Susan Faust. We’ve had a chat about it. He drank too much rum. He feels terrible about it, but I’ve left him to sleep it off. He’s going to release Susan in the morning. You might want to get some crew up with you to make sure there’s no trouble when he hands her over. You know what her people are like.”
“Damn it, I should have been here to deal with this. This shouldn’t be your responsibility.”
“It’s fine; don’t worry about it. Just look out for him, okay? He’s having a rough time of it at the moment. We all are, but as the figurehead, that pressure can drive men and women to things they normally wouldn’t do.”
“Thanks, Eva. I will. I wonder, will things ever get any easier here?”
“I don’t know, Dunc. But we’ve got to keep going, right?”
Duncan nodded, running his hand through his beard. His shoulders tensed.
“Eva, where are you staying? You’re welcome to bunk here, safety in numbers.”
She shook her head and watched his shoulders deflate. “It’s Danny,” she said. “I promised to look out for him, but being on this case is dangerous. If I stay here, I’m making things more dangerous for him. The killer has already tried to finish me once. What’s to say he’s not waiting for another opportunity? I appreciate the offer, really, but it’s better if I stay away.”
“It’s Graves, isn’t it? You’re staying with him.”
Duncan’s voice took on a jealous, accusatory tone, reminding her of her ex, Emily’s biological father. She thought back to those strained days.
Saul, the ex, tried to control her, possess her. It was only with the support of her work colleagues and her mother that she had managed to make the break. Ever since then, she had been determined to live an independent life.
Any attraction Duncan might have held for her died in that instant, and she felt herself become defensive because of it.
“Where I’m staying is none of your business. I’ll check in on Danny in the morning. Look after your father.” She brushed past him. He turned and looked as though he was going to say something, or perhaps stop her, but didn’t. She felt his glare on her back as she headed out onto the deck.
The cold hit her, the wind blowing in her face. She knew she was too harsh, but it was too late now. A low rumble of thunder came from somewhere off in the distance, beyond the peak of the Orizaba. She looked across the water, watching as the calm tide undulated beneath the thin slice of the moonlight as the wispy, dark clouds headed north.
Were they still out there? Angelina and her crew, stuck on their boats, waiting for someone, some help?
She considered taking a boat out, once all the troubles were over, and investigating. Maybe she would return like Mike, but what if they did have a cure there? What if… two of the most dangerous words in a situation like this.
Eva heard footsteps approaching.
She spun round, wincing with the pain of the sudden movement.
A man approached in the darkness. Without the power on, the only light on the flotilla came from candles or wind-up torches, shining like tiny beacons behind glass portholes and cabin windows. Not nearly enough to light the deck..
Eva stepped back, balanced, and readied herself to hit out as the figure continued to approach.
“All right, love? Bit dangerous hanging about here on your own, ain’t it?”
Eva exhaled in relief.
“You bastard, Graves. You scared me, creeping up on me like that.”
Stepping closer, she could make out his face. Pale light reflected off his pitted and scarred skin. He was smiling, satisfied with himself. Smug. That was Marcus Graves.
“Can’t have you walking about on your lonesome at night, can we? I said I’d keep a watch. Never know who’s stalking about in the shadows these days. Did you get the manifest?”
“Yeah.”
“The old goat just handed it over without a fuss?”
“Something like that.”
Marcus offered his arm to Eva like some Victorian lord. She batted it away and, despite clenching her jaw with pain, had the satisfaction of being the one to lead the way as they headed for Graves’ yacht.
Chapter 22
Jim swallowed the last of his water. The cool liquid soothed his burning throat. Like others on the flotilla, he would have to start desalinating for his personal stock of water. He’d done it before, using a piece of transparent plastic and the sun to speed evaporation.
Despite his throbbing headache and nausea, he remembered everything that had gone down the night before.
Remembered Eva’s ultimatum.
Surprisingly, he found it a comfort that he’d get Susan Faust out of his hair. There was the chance that releasing her would appease her people, but he doubted it. His actions would have likely motivated Faust even further to seek revenge. A deal was a deal, though, and today he’d decided to be a better man than yesterday.
He never wanted to be that man again. The confetti image of his wife and son, collected in a small pile on a shelf, was a stark reminder of how easy it was to resort to destruction; how temporary life was.
His two-way radio chirped through the static, and a voice came through, high-pitched, warbling on the edge of panic. “Captain Jim, you there? It’s Annette, Dr Singh’s assistant… there’s been a…. Please, you need to come quick. Over.”
If he hadn’t been sober before, he was then. “Annette, this is Jim. What’s happened?”
“They’re dead. I just came in this morning, I don’t know what I… oh god, this is awful.”
“Hang on,” Jim said. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t touch a thing. Who else is with you?”
“No one, I didn’t know what to do. Should I call someone else?”
“No, just wait for me. Over.”
Susan Faust would have to wait. Jim opened the cabin door and headed for the metal steps that led to the deck. On his way he passed a couple of his crew.
“Patrice, can you do me a favour?” Jim said, addressing a young Frenchman who had initially worked in the Alonsa’s restaurant as a master sommelier, but now worked as one of the fifteen crew who kept the Bravo secure and maintained.
“Anything, Captain.”
“Let Duncan know I’ve gone to visit Dr Singh, but I want him to wait here for my return, as I need to talk with him.”
“Of course.”
Jim nodded and rushed up to the main deck, heading for the Alonsa.
***
Jim made his way towards Dr Singh’s facility. His face stung from the cold wind outside. The rest of his body felt numb with the news. He stopped momentarily to catch his breath and to prepare himself for what he was going to find.
He’d known Kyra Singh for most of the time she had worked on the shi
p. She was one of the few constants and someone whom the flotilla had grown to rely on as their central medical expert. She was well liked, and as far as he knew, she had no enemies. Why anyone would want to harm her was beyond his imagination.
When Jim scaled the steps to the first level and turned into the narrow corridor, he walked into a group of people. Three of Faust’s followers blocked his way.
“Just the man we were coming to see,” a short, squat man said. He wore a similar robe to Susan, white, stained, made from sailcloth. The other two were similarly dressed.
Two men and a woman, all three of them agitators for Faust’s cause.
Dietmar, the speaker, always reminded Jim of a Jack Russell terrier: small and yappy with a bad temperament.
“Now’s not the time,” Jim said. He stepped forward, intending to ignore the situation, but Dietmar placed his hand on Jim’s chest.
Heinrich backed him up, blocking Jim’s route.
“You’re here, we’re here. I make that the best of times,” Dietmar said. “We’ve been patient until now, Captain”—he emphasised “captain” with a sneer—“but your time is up.”
Dietmar took a step back and made to throw a punch, but Jim anticipated him, dodged to the side, unbalancing Heinrich, and landed a blow of his own, square on Dietmar’s chin. The smaller man rocked back.
Heinrich and Monika were on Jim immediately, the latter clawing at his face as she screamed. Heinrich delivered two heavy fists to his ribs, knocking the wind from Jim’s lungs, doubling him over.
Jim straightened up and pushed out his arms, throwing Monika from him.
She fell over Dietmar as he stumbled to his feet.
“Hey,” a voice shouted from behind the group. Stanic had come out of a side door. He held a wrench in his hand, having come from engineering.
SALT: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Page 15
