I give a packet to the shift coming in after us in case they need it, and then duck off to my old suite to leave the note there about the item I found in the suitcase. I know I will have to go there again for the next shift to leave another note, and also go back to my current cabin to give the next shift a packet of antidiarrhea tablets too. At least our groups in our cabin can hopefully stay well. As for those on the rest of the ship, I’m afraid it has to be every person for themself. My few packets of tablets can’t help the thousands on board, and it soon becomes clear this disease has pretty much spread throughout the whole ship. If those in our cabin stay healthy, we can be of some use to others.
As the day goes on, it appears the vomiting is getting worse, and it seems more and more people begin to get diarrhea as well. It’s much more than seasickness. Sure, the weather is rough and the seas high, but that won’t give you diarrhea.
I’ve heard of an illness called norovirus, or something like that, that passengers on cruise ships sometimes get due to lack of hygiene, which is why they have so many huge hand-sanitizer dispensers around the ship. But I’ve noticed they must have finally run out of supplies. I’m once again so glad of Mum’s fixation with hygiene, as I’ve been using her little bottles and sharing them with my cabinmates.
I manage to make it to our meeting place at the back of the ship today and am relieved to see Jade is already there waiting for me. She says she’s been worried about me, not having seen me for a couple of days. Jade seems to be bearing up pretty well healthwise, but we don’t know how long that will last, so I give her some tablets in case she starts feeling ill. Jade suggests we go to the medical center to offer some help, as she says she feels useless just sitting round doing nothing much when there are so many people in need of assistance. I agree, even though I’m not sure how I’ll cope, as I really want to spend more time with Jade.
The nurse says she’s happy to take up our offer, as she’s overwhelmed with sick people and the medical center’s supplies of medicine have almost run out. She puts us to work cleaning people up, helping them to the bathroom, rinsing out their befouled clothes and ugh, ugh, ugh. It’s horrible, but at least I feel I’m contributing, and the bonus is I get to stay in Jade’s company. I’m impressed with how calm and efficient she is with everyone. Nothing seems to faze her, and she has a smile and kind word for everyone. I’m really getting to like her.
We stay with the nurse until we’re dropping and ready for bed. The only break I’ve had from the medical center was in the afternoon when I raced back to my cabin to give tablets to the next shift, and my old suite to slip yet another note under the door for their next shift. I feel like all I’ve been doing is running. It’s time for our shift in the cabin anyway, and if I don’t sleep now, I won’t be able to for another who-knows-how-many hours (this shift stuff is really hard to keep your head around) and I won’t be of use to anyone if I’m totally exhausted.
Outside the medical center, Jade and I give each other a high five of success for our work that day, then stop and really look at each other. A few seconds beat by. Our eyes lock. I look away and down, then back up. She’s still looking at me. Her eyes are such an amazing green. Then, at the same time, we both lean in for a quick kiss. Her lips feel thick and warm against mine. I’ve never kissed a girl on the lips before. I’ve only ever kissed Zac. His chin is usually scratchy, but Jade’s skin is soft and smooth. I think I like Jade’s kiss much better than Zac’s. And I think I’d like to do more than kiss Jade….
“Jilda,” says Jade. She doesn’t continue speaking, just keeps looking into my eyes.
“Jade,” I reply and then don’t know what to say. I’ve never been tongue-tied with girls in the past. But with Jade I’m experiencing sensations I’ve never had before.
“You feel something for me, don’t you?” asks Jade.
I don’t know how to answer. Of course I feel something, but I don’t know how to articulate it. And if I say something, it will be disloyal to Zac, who has been so good to me.
Then I decide what I have to do. I tell her about Zac.
She looks at me as I speak, and I feel she can see into my soul.
Finally she says, “Oh.” Just that. “Oh.”
She squeezes my hand before we head off in opposite directions to our respective cabins. I wonder what Jade thinks of me now. Maybe she thinks I’ve been encouraging her when I haven’t. Or not that I’ve been aware of. I just like being with her. A lot. I feel so confused….
We’ve had a hard day, but it had felt so good working alongside Jade, helping others in need. I realize as I lie here trying to fall asleep, that we’ve been so busy today I never had a chance to tell Jade about the ring. It’s still around my neck, but it falls below the neckline of my T-shirt, so it hasn’t been obvious.
I wonder whether anyone will come to claim the ring. I hope nobody will try and sneak into our cabin during the other two shifts when I’m not here and take things. If they’re legitimate, they’ll come at the time suggested, which is when Sheryl and I will be here.
Guess what, surprise, surprise, nobody comes to our door to claim the ring. So now I’m pretty sure the jewelry is stolen. As to the Pill packet, I think that will always remain a mystery—maybe the woman has been hiding the fact she is on the Pill from someone and decided Rosa’s bag would be a good place to hide both that and the ring. I decide I need to take the ring to lost property, but of course there’s no one looking after such a thing, as all the staff are occupied with more essential jobs like feeding passengers and cleaning up vomit. Maybe I should take it to the captain. But what could he do about it anyway? He’ll be too busy keeping us on our course to mystery land. But I know I have to do something—it isn’t mine and I can’t keep it. No such thing as “finders keepers,” really.
I finally fall asleep and dream of Jade. She’s wearing the ring and smiling into my eyes.
Chapter Twelve: Day Eleven Ship
AFTER I wheel Sheryl to breakfast, Jade and I meet up as arranged yesterday, and go down again to help the nurse out. I’ve taken some much-needed anti-nausea tablets, so my stomach is quite solid again. But the atmosphere between Jade and I has changed—I can sense a distance between us that wasn’t there before I told her about Zac. She avoids looking directly into my eyes. I hope being busy together again today will close that gap and we can get on like before.
Or have I blown it by telling her about Zac?
The infirmary is overflowing with patients, and some are even lying down on the floor outside, as they can’t get in. The medical center has now completely run out of supplies, so we can’t do much except hold back people’s hair as they puke, and rush around with paper or plastic bags toward anyone who starts heaving. The diarrhea is harder to deal with. Luckily there’s plenty of water available, but I wonder how long the desalination pumps can keep up with the huge amount of water required.
I spend quite a lot of time with a woman who introduces herself as Lillian. Her three young children are so unwell, and she is just as ill, so she can’t look after them properly by herself. She smiles weakly at me as I tend to her children while she lies on the floor, hair wet with sweat and exhausted. Her children, Kite, Celine and Jon, are cute little things, and I feel sorry for them all as I wipe their brows and help them sip some water.
Even in such strange circumstances, I’m trying to enjoy being near Jade and getting to know her better. She seems very competent. She’s so patient with people, cheering them up considerably with her friendliness, funny little jokes, and brilliant smile. As the day wears on, though, I feel more and more disheartened. I haven’t managed to recover that close feeling with her.
About four o’clock in the afternoon, after Lillian and her children seem to have gotten over the worst of it, I suggest to Jade we wander upstairs to get some fresh air on the deck and have a break from our duties in the medical center. She encourages me to go by myself, and I’m disappointed, as I feel our closeness has evaporated. I don’t wa
nt to beg, so I leave on my own.
I soon sense there’s another mood developing on the ship. It isn’t just all the passengers who are leaning over the edge of the railing looking green and gazing fixedly at the horizon, hoping for stomachs to settle. People are muttering in groups, and looking over shoulders to hear who’s listening in.
I try to circumnavigate the ship to complete a full circuit of the promenade deck to stretch my legs and get some much-needed exercise, but it’s hard going with the hordes of people. I find myself right at the front of the ship and manage to push into a spot on the railing as I drink in the invigorating, salty sea air. Looking ahead, I just wish I knew where we’re going and what’s eventually going to happen. I’ve been so busy helping with all the sick people, and now concerned my relationship with Jade is cooling, I haven’t had much time to think about the bigger picture. But it really sinks in to me then, looking ahead at the rough, gray, empty seas.
Where are we?
It certainly isn’t tropical waters and weather we’re in anymore. Have we traveled a lot farther south? We can’t have gone north toward the equator, as that would mean hot sun and steamy weather. We might have a storm in a tropical latitude, but it wouldn’t be like this.
Maybe we’re much farther south. But why would that be? What is down there apart from New Zealand—are we heading there? None of the passengers we’ve picked up know either. They keep telling us the same thing over and over – that they were told they wouldn’t know where they’re going until they arrive, as the organizers want it to be kept a secret. They want the country we’re heading toward to be kept in the dark until we land, as otherwise we’ll most probably be turned away.
Why has no one found us? I thought planes would be flying overhead and helicopters circling us. Or navy ships following us. It’s so strange nobody has sighted us, but maybe that’s the secrecy at work—the secrecy really has been successful. I suppose the ocean is vast, but I still thought modern technology could have helped find us by now. But seeing as our Wi-Fi hasn’t worked from the time the ship was taken from Fiji, apparently we’re in a blackout, giving and receiving no signals. And it’s been several days since we last saw the other ships that were nearby when we first left Levy Archipelago—they’ve probably split up as far apart as possible so we would appear as separate ships, not a fleet.
But my musings are interrupted when Gavin and another of the original passengers, Mat, nudge their way in next to me. We get to talking about the situation and decide we’ve finally had enough of not knowing where we’re going. It’s driving us nuts. We can sort of understand the secrecy to ensure there was no security breach before the ships collected the other passengers, but what does it matter now if everyone knows, as there doesn’t seem any way for us to get word out.
“What about my suggestion?” I ask.
Gavin fills Mat in on our previous discussion.
“I’m in,” says Mat.
“Me too,” I say.
“All right,” says Gavin reluctantly.
So we hatch our plan. The men will pretend they’re going to throw me overboard unless the captain divulges our destination. I have to act terrified. I’m secretly hoping that he’ll quickly cave in and tell us, and that Jade will be so impressed with me being involved that she’ll want to be close to me again.
We make our way up several metal stairways, until we reach the bridge. Gavin holds on to one of my arms and calls out in a loud voice that we want to speak to the captain.
“We aren’t leaving until you come out and see us,” he adds.
We make such a noise that the captain eventually emerges, bleary-eyed. I haven’t seen him since the day of the baby’s funeral, and he looks even worse for wear.
“Tell us where we’re going, or we’ll throw this girl overboard!” yells Gavin, just behind my ear.
“Calm down, calm down,” says the captain. “This will not help anybody.”
“But you of all people would know where we’re heading. You’re the captain!” says Mat, holding on to my other arm.
With all the commotion, a crowd has gathered around us, listening in, becoming agitated.
“I’m scared, please tell them,” I whisper, trying to sound convincing. “I don’t want to be tossed overboard.”
“I’m afraid my hands are tied. I’ve been told my family will suffer if I tell anyone where we’re going. This is not my choice, you know. I was not in on this plan. I am a hostage myself.”
“Too bad,” cries Gavin. “We have to know where we’re going. It’ll drive us crazy if we don’t.”
“It’s not long now and you will know, I promise you,” says the captain, trying to placate us.
“Not long is too late!” says Mat. “She’s going overboard.”
“Look,” says the captain. He takes a deep breath as he seems to be carefully considering what he’s going to say next.
We wait expectantly for him to continue.
“Okay. I’ll be completely honest with you. The reason I can’t tell you our destination is if we have to use our communication system for any reason, or are intercepted, someone may take advantage of the situation and our cover will be completely blown. That is why nobody can know where we’re heading.”
The captain turns to go back inside.
Gavin, Mat, and I just stand there, not sure what to do now.
“This girl really will be thrown overboard!” a deep voice booms from behind me.
I realize it’s not Gavin or Mat saying this now. Someone else has taken up the call and the situation is suddenly getting totally out of hand.
Sinewy hands grab me, and I gasp. I’m wrenched out of Gavin’s and Mat’s gentle hold, and I’m being pushed through the crowds. I try to look around to see who has me in their grasp, but it’s all happening so quickly and people are shoving in close, so I can only get brief glimpses of several men I don’t recognize, with glaring eyes and messy hair.
I can’t believe this is happening, how we lost control so quickly. I’m dragged down the flights of stairs, my feet tripping beneath me, and we’re heading toward the deck railing. Gavin and Mat are trying to reach me but are being forcibly held back by several burly men. I’m now genuinely frightened.
The crowds are parting—it seems nobody is willing or able to help me. I so wish Jade was with me. These people are finally desperate and want answers, and I’m apparently the way they’re going to try and get some. I’m being lifted up, my feet no longer touching the deck.
Oh God, how has it come to this?
Strong hands hold me high, and I can feel myself teetering over the edge of the metal rail. The wind whips my hair around and flicks it into my eyes. Am I really going to end up in the icy-looking water far below, or are they bluffing?
I hear a cry. “Stop! Stop! Let her down!” It’s the captain, who has followed us and is right behind the men. “Think about what you’re doing. She is a human being who has done no harm.”
“Tell us where we are going,” yells one of my captors, “and we will let her go!”
A chant begins, with others on the deck joining in.
“Where are we going? Where are we going?”
Some people start to clap and stomp their feet in rhythm with the words, and soon the noise is deafening.
“Where are we going? Where are we going?”
The captain finally understands they really mean business. I feel myself being lifted higher, my toes now barely touching the top of the railing. The men are holding me by my calves and wrists, and it’s all I can do to try and keep my balance I’m swaying so much. Suddenly I’m pushed, but my fall is broken as rough hands keep gripping my ankles. My face thumps into the side of the ship below the railing, and I can feel blood pour hot from my nose. I’m hanging upside down, outside the railing, and I’m screaming and bawling at the same time, stomach rolling. My fists beat against the metallic hull of the ship.
“All right!” I hear the captain yell. “Bring her back up and I�
�ll tell you.”
I’m yanked back up, and I grip each railing as I come up to help keep myself steady. I slide over the top railing and slump backward onto the deck. Blood and tears pour down my face, and I’m heaving, but I manage not to vomit. I don’t care who sees. I’m just so glad I’m fully back on board, with the wooden deck firmly underneath my back. I don’t feel I’ll be able to stand up for a while anyway, my legs are shaking so much.
“Well?” shouts one of the men.
“Australia. We’re headed to Australia,” concedes the captain, palms outstretched.
“Australia? Australia?”
“Yes, Australia. Satisfied?”
There’s muttering that gets louder. There’s excitement, I can tell. I can’t believe nobody asks exactly where in Australia. They are content to hear the magic word Australia.
Gavin and Mat are released and make their way toward me. They say they’re so sorry for what’s happened. It wasn’t meant to turn out that way.
One of the women in the crowd kindly proffers a tissue to wipe my tears. But when she leans down close to me, she suddenly stands straight upright again, pointing an accusing finger at me.
She yells out loudly: “That’s mine! You thief!”
I look down at my chest. The ring on its chain has tipped out from under my neckline, from when I was hanging upside down over the ship’s rail. It’s dangling there with Rosa’s shell charm against the front of my T-shirt for everyone to see.
“Where did you get it?” she continues shouting at me. “That’s my family heirloom!”
She leans over toward me again and tries to snatch the chain from my neck. I can smell her flowery perfume she’s so close. After several yanks it gives way, the chain breaking against the back of my neck. The shell charm slides off one end of the chain, and I grab it up. Rosa will kill me if I lose that, and she won’t be too happy about the broken chain either.
Jilda's Ark Page 10
