Noah's Ark: Survivors

by Dayle, Harry

  Nobody came.

  “Do you want me to hit you again? I can hit you again.”

  He had a feeling the German enjoyed hitting people, and wondered what the guy had done in life, before coming on this cruise. Before the world ended. He didn’t think he had worked as a henchman for a nutter who believed he was Adam reincarnate. He was probably a lawyer. Or a dentist. Or a computer programmer. Someone with a repetitive regular job that offered no excitement. And so what, he asked himself, would become of the others on the ship? How much did it take for normal, nice, ordinary people to turn mercenary? When the food started running out, things were going to turn nasty pretty fast. Entire wars had been fought for reasons less important than self-preservation. But Flynn must have known all that. He was probably counting on it. Find the women, make them all secure on one deck. Defend that deck at all costs, and then let everyone else fight amongst themselves. They would do the job for him, finishing themselves off.

  “You are going to die in that boat, but I could just as easily kill you here. Flynn won’t know any different.”

  The German was losing his temper. Jake shook his head, as if he might be able to shake the terrible thoughts and images out. He started down the steps towards the raft.

  At the bottom, the Chinese man held onto him while Gunter reached into the inflatable and pulled out the oars. Behind Jake there was a sudden rush of water, an eruption of millions of bubbles. A strong current pushed the raft away from the ship, stretching the rope to its maximum extent. The bow thruster churned up the fjord, turning the blue-green water white. The Spirit of Arcadia slowly started to ease away from the coast.

  “Get in,” the German commanded, pointing at the tiny vessel.

  The sides of the raft were low, designed to make it easy to board from the sea. But that made it hazardous to enter by more conventional means. The pain in Jake’s side caused by his broken rib made it difficult to crouch. He was having trouble working out quite how to get in without tipping the thing over. Gunter saved him from having to think further with a hefty shove in the back. He was sent flailing into the raft, where he landed face down with a slap. With a bolt of excruciating pain shooting through his side, he blacked out.

  Fifty-Five

  LUCYA PULLED THE door fully open and ran to the head of housekeeping. Tania looked up, smiling at her.

  “Tania, we’ve been so worried about you!”

  “There’s no need, I've been fine. They’ve treated me very well.”

  “Why haven’t they let you go? Melvin’s in charge now, he's the head of the rebel passengers. They took you to force Jake’s hand, so he had to let Melvin on the bridge. But now he's in charge, surely they don't need you?”

  “It's not that simple, Lucya.”

  “Do you know why I’m here? Do you know how long I've been here? All I remember was walking to my cabin.”

  “I think they brought you in about an hour ago, maybe a bit longer.”

  “Okay. Did you see how many there are? Are they guarding the door? Are you hurt? Can you help me fight them?”

  Lucya looked at the woman seated in front of her. She seemed to be remarkably calm. Something didn’t feel right. If she’d been here all along she must have heard the chair break, and the crash of the drawer unit. The door between the sitting room and the bedroom wasn’t locked. Why hadn't she come and helped her?

  “My dear Lucya, we’re not going anywhere. We are going to stay right here. Why don’t you sit down?”

  “What? No! We need to get out of here. Jake could be in trouble!”

  “I wouldn’t worry about Jake anymore. I wouldn’t worry about anyone else. Jake has been taken care of. Really, sit down for a bit. Flynn will be here soon, he’ll explain everything for you.”

  “Flynn? Who the hell is Flynn? Are you working with Melvin?”

  “Melvin is dead. At least, he should be by now. Flynn is the captain, if everything has gone to plan. He’s going to save us, Lucya. We’re the lucky ones, the chosen ones. We will be treated like queens. You’ll see. Flynn will explain it all.”

  “Oh my God, they got inside your head, didn’t they? They got you believing crazy stuff. Tania, I’m really sorry, if you can’t help me then I’m going to have to go on my own. But we’ll come back for you. When I find Jake, we’ll get Max and come back for you, I promise.”

  Lucya started for the main cabin door. She heard Tania spring to her feet behind her.

  “Stop!”

  “Come with me, Tania!”

  Lucya tried the door. It was locked. She heard a click and turned back to see what had made the sound. Tania was right behind her. Her hand flew up to Lucya’s neck. She was clasping a knife.

  “I said, stop. Now, walk very slowly with me. If you don’t want to sit here with me in comfort that’s fine. But you’re going back in your cage until Flynn comes.”

  Lucya tried to resist, but the blade pressed harder against her throat, stretching the skin dangerously close to breaking point. She had no choice but to obey. A wrong move and the sharp knife would slip through her flesh, opening her windpipe and severing arteries. Very carefully, the two women shuffled back to the bedroom. Once inside, Tania turned them both around so that she had her back to the door, then pulled away the blade and stepped back, pulling the door shut behind her. Lucya heard a sound like a bolt sliding. She immediately tried opening the door, pulling it hard several times, but it was no good. Someone had fitted a fastening to the outside. She was locked in.

  Fifty-Six

  JAKE WASN’T ALLOWED to remain unconscious for long. Icy cold water splashing onto the back of his head brought him round quickly. With a groan he tried to roll over onto his back. Another splash of water soaked his legs. He heard laughing behind him. With difficulty he managed to pull his knees up and get onto all fours, and turned on the spot so that he was facing the landing platform. The Chinese man was batting one of the oars into the sea, sending arcs of water into the raft. Gunter apparently found this hilarious.

  “Okay,” Jake cried out, “you got my attention, you can stop.”

  This only made Gunter laugh even more. He picked up the other oar and joined his colleague. Between the two of them they were able to shift a surprising amount of seawater. There was already a couple of centimetres accumulated in the bottom of the raft and Jake’s hands were submerged. He tried to evacuate it with a cupped hand, but it was useless. Quickly out of breath, he turned and collapsed onto his back, lying in the freezing water, staring at the sky.

  Now that they weren’t getting a reaction, the two men stopped thrashing around with the paddles. The German sat down on the bottom step, propped his oar against the railing, and pulled his thick coat closer around himself. The other man remained where he was, watching over the raft. He dropped his oar at his feet.

  An idea occurred to Jake. Still looking at the sky, he spoke to the men.

  “You realise he’s going to kill you too, don’t you?”

  Gunter laughed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? And I suppose you think you know him? I mean, how long have you actually known him? Three days?”

  “You can learn a lot about someone in three days. We have the same ideals, we see the same future.”

  “I expect Melvin thought that as well.”

  “Melvin was a puppet. A means to an end. He was always going to be disposed of.”

  “Which is my point,” Jake said, sitting up now. The damage to his ribcage made it painful, but he closed his mind to it, determined to get his point over. “He was always going to die, yet he trusted Flynn. Just like you trust him.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why exactly?”

  “Because we were in on it from the start. We knew Melvin would die.”

  “And who’s to say he’s not in on it more than you?” Jake pointed to the Chinese man. “Maybe you’re the next Melvin. Maybe he knows you’re next to die.”

  A look of uncer
tainty flashed across Gunter’s face. The other man’s expression remained inscrutable.

  “Think about it.” Jake sensed he might have struck a seam of doubt. He intended to mine it as far as he could. “Flynn is planning on killing thousands. Why save twelve? Why save anyone other than the women?”

  “He needs us, for the breeding.” Gunter got to his feet. “He explained it to us. One man isn’t enough, he needs a wider gene pool to build Eden.”

  “But why your genes? What’s so special about you? I mean, I suppose you’re strong, but you’re not exactly the smartest man on this ship, are you? I’m pretty sure that he could find more intelligent men to breed from, fitter physical specimens. Why would he pick Laurel and Hardy when he could find some intelligent, funny and, dare I say it, attractive men to father his next generation?”

  “That’s it, I’m going to kill him now,” Gunter said.

  He picked up his discarded oar and lifting it above his head, striding towards the raft. The Chinese man put out an arm to stop him and shook his head once, silently.

  “Taking orders from him now, are you?” Jake smiled. “I guess not all disciples are created equal? Or are you not a real disciple? Maybe he’s a true follower and you’re just a foot soldier. A pawn to be sacrificed when it suits, or jettisoned when you’re no longer of any use.”

  “Let me past, Zhang.” Gunter looked at the smaller man.

  Zhang shook his head once more.

  “Well I think it’s clear who’s the boss around here, isn’t it?” Jake said. A tiny flame of hope ignited in his gut.

  “Flynn is in charge. You don’t order me around, Zhang. Now let me past, or do I have to force you?”

  Zhang stood his ground, staring at Gunter.

  “Fuck, Zhang!” Gunter was losing his temper fast. “It’s true what he said, isn’t it? Are you using me? I swear, if you are using me, I will kill you.”

  Still Zhang said nothing. His arm remained outstretched, a barrier between the German and the raft.

  Gunter’s face exploded into a ball of rage. He swung back the oar with both hands, like a golf club, then heaved it forwards with all his strength. The height difference between the two men meant that the paddle of the oar was on a trajectory to meet directly with Zhang’s neck. Jake watched as it twisted in the air, turning sideways on. With the force with which it was swung, the speed with which it travelled through the air, it was sure to decapitate the diminutive disciple.

  Except that he ducked. At the critical moment, Zhang’s legs folded beneath him and he lost half a metre in height in a matter of milliseconds. With nothing to arrest its momentum, the oar kept on swinging, taking Gunter’s hands with it. As soon as it cleared the airspace above Zhang, he bounced back to his feet. In his hands was his own previously discarded oar. He held it in front of him, between the legs of the German, and it rose with him until it met resistance. It connected with Gunter’s crotch with such force that it broke cleanly in two. The paddle clattered onto the platform.

  Now it was Gunter’s turn to drop. His hands flew open, releasing his oar, which flew into the fjord. He fell to his knees, clutching his groin and bellowing something in German. By the time the blond man’s knees hit the deck, Zhang had brought the half of the oar still in his hands back, ready for another strike. He swung it forwards like a baseball bat. Jake heard a terrible crack as the shaft connected with Gunter’s throat. It crushed his windpipe and sent him flying backwards, where his head smashed against the lowest of the metal steps. Spots of blood erupted from his skull, spraying the other steps with tiny red polka dots. Zhang stepped over the broken paddle of the oar and with one foot rolled the limp and broken body of the German off the platform and into the fjord. The bow thruster was still turning at full pelt, and the churning water spun the corpse around several times before sending it off towards the shoreline.

  Jake sank back into the raft, dumbstruck. Any hope of trying to overpower the man, or to reason with him, was dashed. He watched Zhang calmly untie the rope that held the little raft captive, throw it into the inflatable, and with the same foot he had used to dispatch his former colleague, push it away from the ship.

  Fifty-Seven

  LUCYA FELT HER way back to the boarded-up window. Having seen the room illuminated by the light from the next room, she had a much better idea of the layout. This time there was no crashing into furniture and she located her target with ease. She ran her fingers around the frame, looking for a break in the tape that held in place whatever had been use to board it up. She touched upon a serrated edge and began to peel it back. The tape was well stuck down. It felt like a super sticky plumber’s tape, capable of sealing leaks in high-pressure pipes. Using her long and well-manicured nails, she scraped back the edge, millimetre by millimetre. Once she had successfully removed enough to get a decent grip, things moved much faster. She was able to pull of strips of the tape with relative ease. She expected to see light flood in through the gap between the boarding at the window, but there was none. Instead, there was just more tape. Layer upon layer of tape.

  It took nearly a quarter of an hour and four broken nails to finally reach the last layer. This time, when she pulled at the end, the scratching noise of the sticky material coming away from the frame was accompanied by a crack of daylight appearing. Spurred on by her success, she finished unpeeling all four sides. To her amazement, the boarding wasn’t screwed to the window or fixed by any other means than the tape itself. As the last stretch of it came away, so did the window covering. Light flooded into the room, temporarily blinding her.

  When her eyes recovered she found that the board she had removed was in fact a piece of wood, roughly cut from a wardrobe door. She turned her attention to the window itself. It was small, but not so much that it wouldn’t be possible to climb through it. The only problem with that idea was that the window didn’t open; it was the kind that was fixed into a riveted frame. It was also double glazed, making it very strong. The block of wood that had previously been covering it would perhaps make a useful tool for breaking through, but Lucya could see that it would require repeated strikes to fracture the glass. Every strike would be a risk, and the noise would be sure to draw the attention of Tania and anyone else who might now be in the next room.

  A new idea occurred to her. She picked up the piece of the wardrobe door and gauged its weight, balancing it in her hands, turning it from end to end, evaluating its strength. Once confident it could withstand a reasonable amount of punishment, she set it down on the bed and took a proper look around the cabin for the first time. It was a standard bedroom. A small double bed opposite the window, modern cabinets to each side, wardrobes along one side wall, a couple of chests of drawers on the other side, by the door to the sitting room. Between the wardrobes was a narrow door that provided access to a tiny shower room. Peering inside she found a small plastic shower cubicle, a toilet, and a sink with a mirrored cabinet above.

  “Perfect,” she said to herself.

  She closed the shower room door behind her, hoping it would block out any noise, then opened the cabinet door. It was held in place with two flimsy hinges. She knew they would break without much effort because her own cabin had exactly the same unit, and the door was forever falling off. Gripping it with both hands, she pulled sharply downwards, twisting as she did so. The door came away easily, with just a light pinging sound as the short screws holding the hinges in place popped out.

  Slipping back out of the en suite, she carried the mirrored door across the bedroom and placed it on the drawer unit by the door to the sitting room. Then she pulled the duvet from the bed, doubled it over, and arranged it on the floor in front of the same door. She paused for a moment, thinking, then added the pillows from the bed to the duvet. Finally she picked up the solid board that had covered the window, and positioned herself near the door and next to the chest of drawers. After carrying out a few practice swings, she was happy that everything was ready. She brought the board up over her head, and th
en brought it crashing down onto the mirror with all her might. The glass shattered, sending shards and splinters flying in all directions. Most importantly though, it made an incredible noise. Anyone in the sitting room could not have failed to have heard it. It sounded for all the world like a window being broken.

  Within a second of the glass shattering, she sprinted forwards, getting herself in place behind the door. She arrived just in time. The sound of the fixing being unbolted coincided with her taking up position. The door flew open and Tania came running in. She almost tripped on the folded duvet, but caught herself in time, stumbling forwards. Lucya stepped out from her hiding place, the board once again raised high above her. She hesitated, but only for a split second. The heavy chunk of wood came swooping back down, meeting the back of Tania Bloom’s head with immense force and sending the woman crashing to the ground. She landed right in the middle of the duvet and the pillows. Lucya dropped the board and fell to her knees, checked the back of the other woman’s head, trying to assess the damage.

  “I’m so sorry, Tania,” she said. “But what you’re doing, it is wrong.”

  Tania was out cold, but there was no blood spilt. Lucya arranged her in the recovery position. She was already immobilised, there was no need to cause her any more damage or risk anything else happening. When she was satisfied with how the woman was arranged, she collected up some of the discarded tape and used it to bind her captor’s hands behind her back. Happy she had done what she could, she backed into the sitting room, closing and bolting the door behind her.

  She skipped across the room to the main door, put her ear to it, and tried to listen out for the sounds of anyone else who might be standing guard. Silence. She curled her fingers around the handle, quietly pushed it down, and pulled it towards her. No sooner was it opened a few centimetres than her eyes peered out through the crack. She could only see in one direction without opening the door wider, but it was clear the passageway was empty. She pulled the door open and slipped outside, looked left, the side that was previously blind, and let out the breath she had been holding in. There was nobody to be seen.