Surviving the Evacuation, Book 13

by Frank Tayell

  They would have to make for warmer waters. Whether that was the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, or the southern United States, it would be far from wherever Bill would look. She couldn’t leave the girls behind, nor could she take them with her into the French interior, so she couldn’t search for Bill herself. Nilda might look for Chester, but duty toward her son might cut that expedition short. Sholto might search for Bill. In fact, he probably would, but that would just mean more people stranded in France, thousands of miles from wherever the rest of humanity had gone. She turned the light off, uncertain whether or not she hoped their departure would come soon.

  Part 2 - Day 256

  24th November

  The Day of Reckoning

  Dundalk & Belfast

  Chapter 9 - The Dying Ship

  Dundalk Technology College

  Annette stamped her foot.

  “Careful of the mud,” Kim said.

  “I was testing whether the ground was frozen,” Annette said. “That field looks like a… a… what’s the word beginning with ‘m’ that means swamp?”

  “Morass? Mire?”

  “No, the other one. Anyway, that’s what it looks like. Do you think the helicopter can land in all that mud?”

  “Land, yes. Take off again, I’m not sure. Commander Crawley thinks yes, and Bran agrees, so I’m happy letting it be the pilot’s problem.” She flexed her hands, then glanced over at the treeline where Donnie and Mirabelle were standing on the firmer footing of the path at the edge of the playing field. While Kim and Annette were watching for the helicopter, they were watching for the undead.

  “And Siobhan will search the wreck for clues?” Annette said. “That sounds interesting. Educational, even.”

  “Nice try, but no, you’re not coming,” Kim said. “You’ve got to help Prudence sort through which bags and suitcases we can use. We can’t leave until we’ve packed, and can’t pack until we’ve got some bags to put our things in.”

  “I’d be more useful on the expedition,” Annette said.

  “We have a rota,” Kim said. “Fair’s fair, everyone has to take a turn at all the chores. Just be thankful you’re not emptying the toilet-bins.”

  “Yeah, yuck. I’ll be glad when we’re on a ship with proper plumbing again.”

  Kim nodded, but there would be eight times the ship’s normal complement on board. It wouldn’t be any more sanitary. Annette would learn that soon enough. There were a lot of hard lessons in front of the girl. She’d grown noticeably reckless over the last week, and that was just one more reason they needed to get aboard the ship.

  “I think I can hear it,” Annette said. “Yes. There. See?”

  Kim heard it first, but it was a long few seconds before she saw the helicopter flying in low over the horizon.

  “Watch the helicopter,” she said, “I’ll keep watch for zombies.”

  In truth, she wasn’t looking for the undead, but for the living. It would be minutes, if not hours, before any zombies that heard the rotors lurched their way to the field. Her fear was that some person might try to inveigle their way onto the expedition, thus revealing themselves as a confederate of the saboteurs. They hadn’t before breakfast, and nor had anyone appeared on the path while they’d been waiting. Even so, she wouldn’t relax until Siobhan had finished her examination of the wreck.

  The sound of the rotors changed, becoming more high-pitched. Finally, Kim turned around and was in time to see the helicopter thump to the ground. It didn’t bounce, but sank into the mud.

  “It really is warming up, then,” Kim said, but Annette didn’t hear. The rotors slowed. The doors opened, and Siobhan climbed out one side, the pilot the other. Siobhan trudged over, while the pilot peered at the mud.

  “Good to see you again,” Kim said.

  “And you. Sholto sends his love.”

  “I bet he didn’t say that,” Annette said.

  “It’s the sentiment that counts,” Siobhan said. “Which way to the ship?”

  “You don’t want to get inside and warm up first?”

  “There’s no time,” Siobhan said. “I should have come yesterday.”

  “Why, what’s happened?” Kim asked.

  “Nothing,” Siobhan said. “That’s the trouble. I’ve eliminated another two hundred suspects, but that still leaves me with over a thousand people on the list.”

  “Commander Crawley’s waiting,” Kim said. “We’ll go straight to the wreck.

  “Then I’ll stay here and guard the helicopter,” Annette said. “What? Someone has to.”

  “Okay, but then you’re to go back to the college and help Prudence,” Kim said.

  Together, Kim and Siobhan trudged across the field.

  “How is it back in Belfast?” Kim asked.

  “It could get worse,” Siobhan said. “It might get worse. It probably will if we don’t catch the saboteurs.”

  They reached Donnie and Mirabelle.

  “Can you give the pilot a hand, then make sure she and Annette get back to the college?” Kim said.

  “You want me to trek through that?” Donnie said with a smile. “Do you know how much these shoes cost?”

  They all looked down at the red and white, ankle-high sneakers.

  “If you show me the receipt, I’ll pay you every euro,” Mirabelle said. “Would you prefer cash or card? Come on.”

  “Is everyone as cheerful as them?” Siobhan asked as she and Kim continued along the path.

  “No one is as ever-cheerful as Donnie,” Kim said. “But by and large, yes. There’s a lot of anxiety, of course, but the mood is pretty upbeat. We told them the plan last night, living on ships, heading south. I think it’s helped that we have a few different options ahead of us. I’ve got some good news on that score. When Kallie called to say that the helicopter was on its way, she said she’d just found some ships off the coast of France.”

  “She has? Well, that’s something. I don’t think she’s moved from that computer since yesterday, but I was expecting the search to take weeks. Sholto’s going to the airport this morning, did Kallie tell you? He wanted to come here himself, but that expedition is more important. If we can get more of the aviation fuel back to Belfast, we can ferry the coal back to the city by air. That’ll cut down the amount of firewood we need.”

  “Are you running out?” Kim asked.

  “Only due to inefficiency,” Siobhan said. “We’ve too many people spread across too many warehouses that are just too difficult to heat. We’ve fires for light, and more still for cooking. Worse, the buildings in the harbour are mostly made of steel and cladding. The houses close to the checkpoints have been stripped down to the floorboards, and we’ve ripped up most of those, too. We’ve enough wood for the next week, but within two, we’ll have to venture far beyond the checkpoints, and that brings risks of its own. The coal would be a godsend. It would be solidly good news. Something tangible people could feel in the heat it gave off. There’s another issue you need to be aware of.”

  “Another?”

  “The admiral is facing a mutiny in her ranks. Some of her sailors, mostly the original American crew along with some of the Marines, want to go home.”

  “Back to the U.S.?”

  “They’re prepared to take one of the ships to do it. With The New World here in Dundalk, that means the Amundsen. The admiral has placed more of her people aboard, but since the trouble is coming from her people, it’s impossible to know if that’s helped or simply added to the mutineers’ ranks.”

  “How serious is it?” Kim asked.

  “At the moment, it’s just an increasingly vocal grumbling. The danger will come in a week or three if it seems like they’re never going back to the U.S. There’ll be a confrontation, and I don’t know whether her people will fire on one another, or whether she’ll let them take the ship.”

  “Could they be connected to the sabotage?”

  “I don’t think so. And I don’t think they’ll harm any of the civilians, though
it’s increasingly difficult to tell which of us belongs to that group. There might be an accidental death or two if it comes to a head. My real concern is for the children. If you’ve taken The New World to France, and if the admiral sends the Amundsen north for more fuel and to keep it out of the way, then that leaves the John Cabot as the most likely ship for them to take.”

  “The children are aboard?”

  “It’s the safest place for them,” Siobhan said. “There’s nowhere else for them to go. There’s nothing you can do, I know, but I thought you should be aware of quite how fraught it’s all becoming.”

  “So much for going to Sicily,” Kim said.

  They turned the corner and saw Commander Crawley waiting in the car park. Kim did a quick headcount, but there were no new volunteers. Crawley saw her gaze sweep over his team.

  “Everyone I selected is here, all present and very much correct,” he said. “Detective.”

  “Just call me Siobhan. Where’s the crime scene?”

  Commander Crawley led the way, but his team were just as familiar with it, having made this journey many times during their brief stay in Dundalk. Kim and Siobhan brought up the rear.

  “This is almost pleasant,” Siobhan said.

  “It is?” Kim asked.

  “Compared to Belfast. I didn’t notice the smell of that place until we left. The fresh air is doing me good. Coal smoke will be a real improvement.”

  “You think that will work, ferrying coal to Belfast?”

  Siobhan glanced ahead. “You haven’t heard from Chief Watts?” she asked quietly.

  “Heard what?”

  “He’s off the coast of Anglesey with Miguel and Sophia Augusto. The power plant is leaking. Radiation is spilling into the Irish Sea. They’ve had to move back twenty miles.”

  “Twenty miles? Already?”

  “Give it a few months, and we’ll have a band of radioactive seawater stretching from Ireland to Wales,” Siobhan said. “Now, whether it’s north of the Isle of Man, to the south, or whether that island takes the full brunt of the leak, time will tell. It’ll also tell us how much radiation is leaking, and whether it’s a danger worth us worrying over. Considering how many bombs fell earlier this year, could one power station really make much difference? They’re advising we avoid fishing in the area, and avoid using the Irish Sea as a passageway up to Svalbard at least until spring, possibly summer, and maybe a lot longer than that.”

  “So, a couple of weeks, and we’ll have no choice but to leave Dundalk?”

  “In no longer than a month,” Siobhan said. “Yes, we’ll have to leave the Irish east coast. Belfast might be habitable for a little longer, perhaps a little less depending on the currents. That’s why we’re concerned about the coal. In Elysium, they don’t have the luxury of houses to rip apart. They’ve felled most of the nearby trees, but green wood is a poor source of heat. The turbines are providing them with electricity while the wind is blowing, but they’ve been having too many windless days. They need the coal more than Belfast.”

  “Does the helicopter have the range to reach them?”

  “Not for a return journey,” Siobhan said. “Carrying aviation fuel there by air just so we can then fly another mission carrying coal rather makes a mockery of the whole business. Sholto’s taking a specialist with him who’ll inspect the other helicopters parked near the airport. Perhaps one of the larger vehicles can be repaired. If not, we’ll have to consider moving the coal by sea.”

  “Using the Amundsen?”

  “Perhaps, or Heather Jones could bring some of her smaller boats up around the coast. That raises a question of how much time it would take before it’s no longer safe for them to travel through the Irish Sea. An alternative might be to fly the coal west to Malin Head, or perhaps straight to an island in Connemara. That’s where the plans begin to get truly desperate. The logistics are a nightmare, and I can’t see them improving.”

  “It’s so complex, isn’t it, and all for some coal. Heating isn’t even our biggest problem.”

  “We’ve just got to hold on until March,” Siobhan said. “To do that, we’ve got to survive the next few weeks.”

  A flurry of movement came from the front of the column as a zombie staggered out from behind a wrecked van. As its out-flung arm smashed into the dangling wing-mirror, three bullets hit the creature, two in the chest, one in the head.

  “Call out your shots!” Commander Crawley barked. “We can’t waste bullets. Reload.”

  “Was he always like this?” Siobhan whispered.

  “He’s still blaming himself for the shipwreck,” Kim murmured. “That, and he’s not used to this type of command. His is a more technical background. Still, it’s a style that works.”

  “Move out!” Crawley barked.

  Siobhan paused when they reached the corpse, and gave it a long second glance.

  “You okay?” Kim asked, wondering if Siobhan recognised the person the dead zombie had been.

  “I’m weary,” Siobhan said. “But yes.” With forced cheerfulness, she added, “That’s the first zombie I’ve seen today.”

  It was the last zombie they saw until they reached the shore.

  “Fletcher, Hart, guard the road,” Crawley said. “You know the signal. The rest of you, watch your footing on the beach. Watch the corpses. Not all are our people.”

  “I don’t know what I was expecting,” Siobhan said. “It wasn’t this.”

  The ship had run aground parallel to the shore, then tipped over leaving the deck facing landward. Part of the super-structure had collapsed onto the rock-strewn and oil-coated shore. Railings, wires, and deck-plates had followed, with a giant fissure running along the deck from prow to stern.

  The ship creaked. A monstrous wail was followed by a rumbling splash as some hidden part of the keel fell into the sea. As it did, a squadron of gulls took flight from the upper-most side of the deck. Two flew inland, while the rest circled, before returning to their perch.

  Kim turned away from the ship to watch the birds flying inland. They weren’t heading to the college. Now she considered it, she couldn’t recall seeing any birds there. Perhaps it was the snow. Then again, the wreck was surely more exposed than some inland perch, so why were the birds here? Then she realised.

  The water surrounding the ship was dark with oil. Successive tides had dragged the foul liquid onto the beach where it had coated the hundreds of corpses. Dead passengers, survivors who’d never made it off the beach, the zombies they’d killed when they’d first come ashore, and those they’d fought when coming to collect the grain; they were indistinguishable from one another. The birds had come to feast on the dead passengers, and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

  “Is it safe for anyone to go inside the ship?” Kim asked, and her words broke the spell. There was a sudden shuffling of feet, a rising and lowering of weapons, and a muted clearing of throats, collectively indicating how utterly still the group had been. In turn, their immobility showed how much the wreck’s appearance had changed since their expedition to the ship the previous afternoon.

  “It’s safe enough,” Commander Crawley said, then immediately gave the lie to his reply. “Only the detective and I will go inside.”

  Siobhan took out a smart phone, and took a quick panoramic picture of the wreck. “Evidence,” she said. “For the trial, and there surely deserves to be one.”

  “Go,” Kim said. “We’ll keep watch out here.” Eyes went to the corpses, and she decided to channel the commander herself. “Eyes out! Watch the approach, and I’ll watch the dead.”

  She regretted that almost immediately when a shallow wave washed against a body. Its arm rose, and she was only half certain the motion was caused by the incoming tide. She slipped on the rocks as she staggered towards it, and managed ten paces before she saw that its skull had been crushed.

  “Spread out,” she said. “Further up the beach, away from the dead.”

  They were dead. Every la
st one. She repeated that to herself as she slipped and splashed from rock to puddle to pool. If they were alive, if they were undead, they would have heard their party approach. Zombies would certainly have heard the ship tearing itself apart. She repeated that over and over to herself as a distraction from the broken limbs, the crushed bodies, and the familiar faces of those she’d known on Anglesey, though too often only by sight. She staggered and slid over the rocks, seaweed, limbs, and metal. She tripped on the once-prized possessions that had spilled from the suitcases and bags that survivors had so carefully packed and repacked. Her feet sank ankle deep into the salty, oily, bloody brine, until a rending clatter echoed from the ship. Reflexively, she jumped back, and nearly fell as her foot caught on a dismembered arm. She caught herself and looked up in time to see one of the on-deck ventilation pipes topple sideways, then down, slamming into the lid of the open hatch through which Siobhan and Crawley had climbed.

  “Move another ten metres from the ship!” she called. “No, make it twenty! Quick now!” As fast as she could, she picked her way over to the side of the ship. The water grew deeper, the bodies more numerous, the seawater thicker with oil.

  A low rasp of tortured metal came from deep within the ship, then a sharper, metallic ping as rivets burst. There was a clattering bang as a metre-square plate burst from the ship, splashing down on the water and bodies below. Above, the birds took flight, this time in a far larger flock than before. Hundreds of the creatures took wing, circling high above the wreck.

  “Siobhan! Commander!” Kim called as she neared the hatch, knowing they wouldn’t hear. The ship was tearing itself apart. She’d have to go in, find them, and pull them out. Ignoring the sheer impossibility of that, she reached up and was about to haul herself up to the hatch when Siobhan’s head appeared in it. Kim jumped down and back, giving the woman time to clamber out. Crawley was just behind.