I put my plate down. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
The two men glanced at each other and shifted nervously from one foot to the other and back again.
‘Ben,’ Hamish looked everywhere except at my face, ‘before you can come ashore, we need to ask something.’ He was staring down at his boots now. ‘Are you all ...? Have you had any ...?’ He hesitated as he tried to think of how to ask the question he needed the answer to. Eventually, he just blurted it out. ‘Is there any chance that any of you are infected?’
Before, I’d always been greeted with warm and open arms whenever I’d arrived in Tobermory, and it felt strange to be treated this way now. I guess it was a measure of how much the world had changed in such a short space of time. People arriving from elsewhere, even ones you already knew, meant the possibility of the infection being brought into areas which were still disease-free; and this was something those already there wanted to avoid at all costs. Being wary of outsiders was no longer rude; instead, it was a vital survival strategy. As we’d already found at Iona, once open communities had now closed themselves off. I suspected the only reason they were even considering letting us into Tobermory was a mix of Mitch putting in a good word, and the fact that I wasn’t a complete stranger to at least some of those who’d survived this far.
I did my best to reassure them. ‘We’re all fine. Not even a chance. We haven’t been anywhere we could’ve picked up the disease in days, so if any of us had it, we’d know by now.’
The sense of relief in the other boat was clear. Hamish shifted the engine into gear and finally pulled up alongside. The other man held it in place and looked across. ‘So where’d you come in from?’
They both stared, open-mouthed as I gave him a quick summary. Finally, Hamish spoke. ‘Sounds like you’ve been pretty lucky.’
‘I guess so.’ I glanced over to the shore, and the barricades which had been erected to protect the survivors. ‘What happened around here? How’ve you guys managed to hold out so well?’
Hamish snorted. ‘Fifty of us left? I’d hardly say we’re doing well.’
‘You’re doing way better than anywhere else we’ve been.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’ A pained expression crossed his face. ‘I guess these days everything’s relative. You want to come ashore; have a look around?’
‘Definitely.’ We’d been cooped up in the boat for almost two weeks, and I longed to be able to stretch my legs. ‘Have you got room for a few more?’
Hamish nodded.
I yelled down the companionway and Daz, Sophie and Tom scrambled into the cockpit, all as eager as I was to get off the boat, even if it was only for a short while; Claire appeared a few seconds later, with somewhat less enthusiasm, and I guessed she’d rather stay on the boat and catch up on her sleep now we’d finally found somewhere safe. Yet, she also wanted keep a watchful eye on her daughter, so she joined the rest of us when we climbed into Hamish’s boat.
As we motored towards the shore, Hamish filled me in on what had happened in Tobermory since the outbreak began.
‘We’d been hearing the news out of America for a couple of weeks, but we didn’t really pay much attention to it: it was all so far away; none of us could see how it could possibly get anywhere near us. Then we heard about the outbreak in Glasgow. That was when we started to worry, but still we felt it was a long way off.’ As he spoke, he manoeuvred the motorboat round an anchored fishing boat.
‘Mitch arrived the following morning and told us first-hand what she’d seen. The morning after that, we started hearing about people turning up at the ferry terminal over on the east side of the island. Most were locals who’d moved away, but some were strangers, who thought Mull might offer a safe haven from all that was happening on the mainland. I guess it was the same with other islands. We worried about them bringing the disease with them, but we didn’t feel we could turn them away.’ He turned the boat sharply and shifted the engine into neutral as we bumped against the end of the stone quay. The other man jumped ashore, a rope held in his hand which he tied to a metal ring set into the stone.
Hamish turned to me. ‘That’s not the type of people we are around here; it’s not in our nature: maybe it should’ve been, though, because soon we heard about the first infection on the island, over on the east coast, just up the road from where the ferries come in. Mitch flew down to check it out and what she told us wasn’t good: it seemed the disease was spreading fast.’
One by one we climbed onto the quay as Hamish continued. ‘We knew it was only a matter of time before it got here and we felt we needed to do something, so we set to work trying to make a secure area where we could all hole up when the disease finally reached us. We knew we couldn’t protect the whole town so we worked out which parts we could secure and which we couldn’t. When we looked around, we found the only area we could hope to do anything with was the middle of Main Street.’
Before Hamish could continue the other guy jumped in. ‘It was Hamish, here, who came up with the idea of using straw bales to build the defences. That’s what saved us; it’s what’s been keeping us safe ever since.’
Hamish’s face turned as red as his hair, embarrassed at being given so much credit. ‘I used them to build my house; got the plans off the Internet. It works better than you’d think, and there was no reason I could see why it wouldn’t work just as well for building walls to keep out the infected; you just need to know how to secure them all together properly. The bales won’t last forever, but they should hold back the infected until we can get something more permanent in place. We’re thinking shipping containers, if we can find them and work out how get them into place.’
We walked slowly along the quay; Sophie and Tom were swaying gently, while Daz had stumbled twice already. After the second time, he was getting frustrated. ‘How come I can’t walk properly? It’s like I’m drunk or somethin’!’
‘It’s called “sea legs”. Your body’s got used to being on a moving boat.’ I grinned, amused by the confused look on his face. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll wear off.’
Daz stumbled again, grabbing onto Sophie for support. ‘When?’
I stifled a laugh. ‘In about half an hour or so.’
By then, we’d reached the point where the quay met the road which ran along the shore. In front of us, was a row of stone houses, each several storeys high. While most were jammed tightly together, some were separated by narrow lanes. Many of the lower levels housed shops, while some were occupied by pubs and cafes. In effect, these buildings acted as a vast pre-existing barrier between the small stretch of land in front of them and the rest of the island, and all the residents had needed to do to secure it was board up any rear-facing windows, close off the alleyways and block the road at either end. It was still a mammoth task, but the local architecture had made it possible for them to hold back the infected rather than being overrun. I turned to Hamish. ‘So where’d you get all the bales from?’
‘From various farms on the island; it didn’t take as long as you might think to get the safe area set up, not with all of us working together. The only problem was we weren’t fast enough and the infection arrived while we were still trying to gather all the supplies we thought we’d need.’
He paused and looked off into the distance. ‘I still don’t know how it happened. One minute, we were unloading cases of canned food from the back of a Land Rover, and the next it seemed like there were infected everywhere, and all we could do was run. That was when I realised I’d screwed up when I designed the barricades. I’d aimed to make them as impregnable as possible, but it never occurred to me that we might have to get over them in a hurry. We were pinned against the wall by the infected and we didn’t have any weapons. Anyway, these weren’t strangers; they were people we recognised; people we’d known all our lives; people we went to school with ...’ His voice faded away for a moment.
‘We all just huddled there with the infected whittling us down as those on the outside of the group got atta
cked and killed, or worse, got turned into more infected. Our only option was to try to get over the barrier we’d built, but there weren’t any footholds and nothing to grip onto so it was difficult. I’m not proud of it, but it was everyone for themselves. It was the only thing we could do to survive. Only those of us who were fit and able enough made it. The old people, the kids, they didn’t stand a chance. You couldn’t carry anyone; you couldn’t pull them up behind you. All you could do was climb. I remember sitting there once I’d reached the top, looking down. The infected were everywhere, tearing into people, people I knew, people I loved.’ Hamish shook his head. ‘If only I’d thought about how we were going to get in when we built the walls rather than just how we were going to keep them out. At the start of that day, there were almost 800 people here. Within ten minutes of the first infected showing up, there were only fifty of us left.’
The loss of life was small in comparison to what had happened in other places, like Glasgow, but for a small community like Tobermory, it would have been as devastating as the loss of hundreds of thousands in some distant city. The fact that the infected who now lined their makeshift walls, desperate to break in and kill those inside, were people they knew, or were even related to, made it all the more heart-wrenching.
Hamish continued. ‘Those of us who survived that first day have been working hard to try to keep the community together, to work with people on the other islands which are still disease-free. Mitch has been great for that. She’s been able to check out places which it would have taken us days to get round to visiting. It’s helped us maintain some of the connections we had before all this happened.’
I remembered something and broke in. ‘Mitch mentioned about navy people turning up.’
‘Aye.’ Hamish rubbed the back of his neck. ‘They arrived a couple of days after the infection. They were looking for somewhere to set up a base. The one in charge was nice enough, but they seemed to feel they had some right to order us around. They were talking about bringing survivors together, thinking it would make it easier for them to protect us. They didn’t seem to appreciate we were doing just fine on our own and that we could damn well protect ourselves. They weren’t here when we really needed them, and I can’t see how they can do any better than we’re already doing.’ There was a great deal of bitterness and anger in Hamish’s voice. ‘They might have their machine guns and their training, but there’s more to staying safe than that, isn’t there? I mean, you’ve done pretty well without any guns, haven’t you?’
I started to reply, but Hamish carried on before I could answer. ‘Anyway, they clearly didn’t think this place would make a particularly good base and they moved on almost as soon as they arrived. Next thing we know, Mitch was telling us they’d taken over the Big House on Rhum. There’s no infection there and even though it’s a big island, only about twenty people live there so the residents couldn’t put up much resistance against thirty-eight heavily armed men.’
I was keen to find out more. ‘Any idea what they’ve been doing since then?’
‘Going round the various surviving communities, trying to persuade them to relocate to Rhum, so they can protect them more easily. So far, they’ve not had much luck. People around here are used to doing things for themselves. We don’t like outsiders coming in and telling us what we should be doing.’
The other man chimed in. ’From what I hear, they’ve also been fortifying the Big House.’
Daz frowned. ‘What’s “the Big House”?’
‘It’s where the island’s owners used to live. It’s a mansion really, but everyone calls it the “Big House” because it’s much larger than anything else on the island.’
Claire nodded. ‘Makes sense. And you said they’re fortifying it?’
‘It’s pretty much built like a castle, anyway, so it’s not exactly difficult, but they’ve been blocking up the windows on the ground floor and stuff like that. I guess it’s in case any infected get onto the island, but I can’t see how that’s going to happen. Rhum’s too far from the mainland.’
‘Aye,’ Hamish nodded before looking round. ‘So you want the tour?’
‘Sounds good.’ I followed as Hamish led off, with the others trailing after us.
Our tour of Tobermory was both illuminating and horrifying. It was clearly secure, at least for the time being, but the infected were never far away. Almost everywhere we went, I could hear their snarls and moans as they clawed on the barricades and hammered on the boarded-up windows and doors at the backs of the buildings, which separated the safe area from the rest of the town. At one end, there was a ladder leading up onto the top of the straw bales. We climbed up and found ourselves looking down on more infected. Our presence enraged them, and they started to screech and scream as they threw themselves against the bales below us. Despite the anger which burned in their eyes, they looked so normal; like people you might meet every day.
While the rest of us stared, Hamish turned away.
Daz was watching him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘What’s wrong?’ He turned back and pointed angrily to a man about his own age with closely cropped hair. ‘That’s my best friend down there. I’ve known him since I was eight.’ He pointed again, this time to an elderly woman who, despite her years, was pounding violently against the barrier. ‘That’s my aunt; and that …’ He couldn’t even look at the woman wearing a bloodstained jacket, slowly healing bite marks visible on her throat and neck. ‘That’s my wife.’
Daz let out a low sigh, the full impact of what Hamish had just said quickly sinking in. ‘Shit!’
I gazed at the infected, seeing them in a new light, and then I recognised one of them. I turned to Hamish. ‘Is that …?’ I almost couldn’t get the words out. ‘Is that Big John?’
Hamish nodded.
Big John had worked at the fuel dock in Tobermory for as long as I’d been sailing these waters, and he was always happy to share a story or pass on a snippet of information. It wasn’t that he gossiped, he just let everyone know what was happening. You’d spend five minutes filling up and by the time you left, you’d have a better idea of what everyone else was doing than if you’d spoken to them all yourself.
Now, there he was, his beard flecked with grey, his hair dishevelled, still wearing his trademark yellow oilskin jacket. Gone was the usual friendly grin, replaced by a look of intense rage: I’d never seen such fury in the eyes of another human being.
I climbed down from the barricade, deeply affected by what I’d seen, and what the survivors in Tobermory had to endure each and every day. The infected we’d encountered before were unknown to us; they were strangers; we had no prior knowledge of them: we knew nothing of what they’d once been. Here, in Tobermory, they knew many of the infected that surrounded them; they’d lived with them, laughed with them; they’d grown up with them; and now, all those with the disease wanted to do was to attack those who remained uninfected.
‘Why don’t you do something about it?’ Sophie was staring at Hamish.
He looked confused. ‘What d’you mean?’
Sophie kept her eyes locked on him. ‘Why don’t you put them out of their misery?’
‘How? We don’t have the guns or the ammunition to kill them all.’ Hamish gazed off into the distance. ‘Besides, everyone in here knows almost everyone out there. Who do we decide to kill first? Who’s going to do it?’ Hamish stared at Sophie. ‘Could you do it to someone you loved? If you could, you’re a better person than I am because I’d give anything to be able to put them out of their misery, to be able to bury them, to mourn their loss, but I can’t. I know; I’ve tried. I’ve sat up there with my hunting rifle, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. So they live on, hollow husks of the people they once were. Whenever I see one that I used to know, it’s like someone stabbing a knife into my very soul and twisting. Yet, I can’t help it, because they’re always there, waiting for us to slip up so they can tear us apart.’
Sophie didn’t say anyt
hing, but the look on her face suggested she was thinking about Jake, and about what her mother had done. Finally, I think she realised how much courage it had taken for Claire to kill him before he turned, and why she’d had to do it.
Just as we finished our tour of what was left of Tobermory, there was a shout from our left, and I turned to see Mitch striding towards us. ‘So you finally made it. Great! Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.’ She looked at Sophie and Claire. ‘I see you got my welcome present.’
‘Yes!’ Sophie twirled round, showing off her new clothes. ‘They’re brilliant! Where did you get them from?’
‘They belong to a friend’s daughter who’s about your age.’
‘Cool. I’ll need to thank her for letting me have them. Can I meet her?’
There was an awkward silence.
‘What?’ Sophie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where is she?’
Mitch turned away to avoid making eye contact.
Sophie suddenly looked very serious. ‘Where is she?’
Seeing Mitch was getting upset, Claire stepped forward and put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Just leave it, honey.’
Sophie shook off her mother’s hand. ‘No, I want to know. Where is she?’
‘It’s okay.’ Mitch’s voice sounded flat; she took a deep breath. ‘She’s gone. We lost her when Tobermory was overrun.’
‘And you thought you could just take her clothes and give them to me?’ Sophie’s face clouded with anger. ‘They’re not yours; they’re hers. You’ve got no right to do that!’
Claire grabbed Sophie and pulled her back. ‘Don’t speak to Mitch like that!’
‘But she’s got no right!’ Tears welled up in Sophie’s eyes. ‘Don’t you see? Their stuff … it’s all that’s left of them: it’s all that there is to remember them by.’ A single sob escaped from her. ‘If I’d died, would you just give my things away? What about Jake’s? Would you give Jake’s stuff away now he’s gone?’ Sophie turned and stormed towards the quay. As she did so, she yelled back to us. ‘Someone needs to take me back to the boat. I need to get out of these clothes. Now!’
For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak Page 22
