Jon wiped his arm across his eyes and cleared his throat. ‘It’s not going to be alright, I’m screwed and that means you’re screwed too.’
There was a steeliness to his voice, a certainty in it. I hadn’t heard Jon talk like this before.
‘Jon, what’s going on?’ Andrew was as concerned as I was.
Jon said nothing. He just looked from me to Andrew and back again, then held out his left arm. There was a series of ragged red lines on his forearm that were oozing a dark liquid.
I stared at the marks. ‘Jon, what’s that?’
‘One of them got me when we were trying to get the door shut.’ As he spoke, the weight of what he said sank in. ‘As I was pulling down on the handle, one of them got me. I’m screwed.’
Jon buried his head in his knees and started sobbing again. Suddenly, he looked so young, almost like a child. I wanted to pick him up, to hold him, but I just sat there not quite knowing what to say. I had grown to like Jon, to rely on him and now I was going to lose him. I thought of the others and how they would feel. In particular, I thought of CJ.
‘Hey, you might be okay.’ Andrew was clutching at straws. ‘You never know, it’s only a scratch.’
Jon looked up. ‘No, it’s not. I can feel it. I can feel it burning its way through me. I’m screwed!’ Jon’s voice tailed off and his head nodded forward as if he was falling asleep and rested on his chest for a few second. Suddenly, it snapped back upright. He shook it and blinked his eyes as if trying to pull himself together. He stared at Andrew and me as if he was seeing us for the first time. A look of realisation mixed with horror spread across his face. ‘You guys have to get out of here. Now!’
I saw panic spread across Andrew’s face. Jon was infected and, whether it was sooner or later, he would become one of them. When that happened, he would attack us. In the tiny space inside the light, we wouldn’t be able to get away from him and he’d most certainly kill us. It was inevitable and by the looks of Jon, it would happen soon. His head had sunk against his knees again. He was no longer crying, just sweating profusely. Jon slid over onto his side and his head fell into my lap. As he lay there, I could feel the heat radiating from him. He was barely conscious and I heard his breathing become shallow and erratic. I knew what had to be done but I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it. I cast my eyes around the room but I could see nothing I could use. The only possible weapon was the wrench keeping the infected from forcing open the door.
I felt Jon go limp, the infection had won and he was about to turn. I looked around again, and again I came up blank. Then I saw a way out. At the bottom of one of the windows, a small door led out onto the balcony that surrounded the light. It was there so the lighthouse keepers could clean the outside of the windows. I felt Jon twitch and I knew there were only seconds left. I leapt over to the door and scrambled out into the night. As I did so, I felt Andrew pushing me from behind, desperate to follow my lead.
Once Andrew was through, I slammed it shut and closed the latch. I watched the beam of light sweep around the room we’d just left and saw Jon stirring. The light passed on, enveloping him in darkness. By the next time it came round he was gone. Then something hit the glass in front of me. I staggered backwards against the guard rail. The light came round a third time, momentarily silhouetting Jon against the glass. He sensed our presence and he knew he wanted to get to us but in his changed state, he couldn’t work out how. As he hammered on the glass it shuddered and shook. It was old and thin, and I wondered how long it would hold out. Jon turned and paced within the light, I could see the rage etched on his face, his eyes bloodshot and burning with intensity. The infection coursed through his body and all he wanted to do was to rip, to tear, to kill. He threw himself at the glass again and again, screaming, and, pummelling it with his fists. It seemed only a matter of time before he’d break through.
Chapter Eighteen
Andrew and I sat huddled on the balcony as we had done for hours. From our vantage point, I could see across the island and out to the open ocean. I watched the eastern horizon change from black to red and then to yellow, the sun was finally coming up. Throughout the night we could hear the infected moaning and shuffling as they were riled up by the light we had lit but couldn’t put out. Jon still hammered at the glass, but while a few of the pains had cracked, none of them had given out completely. Below, we could see people stirring in the anchorage. I got up to try to get their attention, to let them know we were still alive. I waved and shouted, and saw several small figures do the same in reply. I was relieved. It had been a long night and, while I still didn’t quite know how, I hoped we’d soon be free.
I leant on the railing and looked towards the ground. For a moment it seemed to be moving and then I realised what I was seeing. Every inch of land around the lighthouse was covered with infected. The light had drawn them from far and wide, and they were packed so tightly they formed a single seething mass. In the darkness, I’d kept myself going with the thought that at least it would all be over by morning. Now that daylight was here, it revealed how bad our situation really was. There could be no rescue. We would be here, baking in the sun, until we lost so much water that we went mad, or until Jon finally broke through the glass. Either way we wouldn’t survive. I slumped back against the railings.
‘Are they coming to get us?’ Andrew looked hopeful.
‘They can’t.’ There was no nice way to put it, so I kept it simple.
‘What d’you mean they can’t?’ Andrew was confused
‘The light; it attracted the infected. It’s been on all night. There’s thousands of them down there. There’s no way anyone’s getting through.’
Andrew leapt to his feet and stared downwards. I heard him gasp and then let out a yell of frustration. After about ten seconds he pulled himself together and sat back down.
‘It’s like being back on the dock.’ He had a faraway look in his eyes and I knew what he was thinking about. ‘I can’t go through that again.’
I glanced at him but before I could say anything I heard an engine start up in the anchorage. As it coughed and spluttered, I realised that it was the one on the catamaran. I looked over the edge and sure enough it was moving towards the lighthouse. Straining my eyes, I could make out Jack at the wheel while CJ, Mike, Jeff and Jimmy scurried over the deck. As I watched, the catamaran manoeuvred into a position between two docks, some twenty feet from the shore. It was as close to the lighthouse as they could get without running aground. I wondered what they were doing. Maybe they had a plan, but I couldn’t see what it might be. The infected that thronged below now turned their attention to the boat and started to crowd the shore and the docks on either side. Despite this, there was still no way we could get off the island even if we could get past Jon and the other infected in the lighthouse.
Then a dark object rose into the air from the front of the catamaran. It drifted upwards and towards us on the early morning breeze that blew in off the ocean.
‘Hey. Andrew. What d’you think that is?’
‘It looks like a kite.’
It was a kite, but it looked as if it had been hastily made from whatever was close to hand.
‘What would they be doing with a kite?’
‘I don’t know, I … Hang on.’ I was remembering something, something I’d heard at school; a story about people wanting to build a bridge across a canyon but they couldn’t work out how to get the first line across. They’d tried everything, throwing it, launching it across with a rocket, but nothing worked. It was just too far. Then some kid came forward and, using a kite, he floated a thin line across. That was all they needed. Using a thin line they could pull a thicker one across, then a thicker one still, and so on until they could get the first cable for the bridge across. Suddenly, I knew what they were trying to do.
On the first attempt the kite sailed some thirty feet to our left. Down in the harbour, I saw Jack reposition the boat and try again. This time the kite passed twenty fe
et to our right. Between hauling the kite back in, repositioning the catamaran and then floating the kite out again, each attempt took almost half an hour and there was nothing we could do but watch and hope. The third attempt was closer, but the kite was still beyond our reach. On the fourth, it seemed like it would come close enough, but no matter how far Andrew reached over the rusting railings, it remained just too far away. The fifth time, Andrew finally managed to get his fingers onto the kite’s string and found it was made of heavy duty fishing line. We tied it off to the railing and watched as it was pulled tight. There was a yell from below, and I looked to see Jack waving. I figured out this meant he was ready. We pulled in the fishing line and gradually saw a nylon rope extend up from the catamaran up towards the lighthouse.
The end of the rope crept towards us at a snail’s pace, but we didn’t dare pull any faster. It was just over half-way up when the fishing line snapped. We watched as the rope fell into the mass of infected below. They didn’t seem to know what it was and Jack was able to pull it back to the catamaran with little effort. Yet, he had to pull it through the water, and the soaking would only add to its weight.
It took Jack almost an hour to scrounge the materials to make another kite, but now he had the catamaran in the right position, he managed to float it within reach on the next attempt. This time the fishing line had been doubled over, making it twice as strong and we managed to pull the rope all the way up to the balcony of the lighthouse. We tied it to the railing and watched as the other end was secured to a winch on the deck and cranked tight.
‘How do we get down it?’ Andrew looked at me and I thought about it for a moment.
‘If you loop your legs over the rope, you can lower yourself down backwards. Your legs will take most of the weight. All you’re doing with your hands is controlling your descent.’
‘You make it sound so easy.’ He looked along the length of the rope. ‘I’m going to have to cross the water. What happens if I fall off?’
‘You’re better off falling into the water than onto the land.’
Andrew snorted.
‘Look, if you want, I’ll go first, show you how it’s done, show you it’s possible.’
‘No way. You’re not leaving me up here on my own.’ With that Andrew climbed over the railings and manoeuvred himself into position. He steadied himself and then wrapped his legs over the line. He got his hands into position and I watched as he lowered himself slowly, hand over hand, towards the safety of the boat far below.
Jon renewed his attack on the glass that was the only thing keeping him from me. He seemed to sense we were getting away, that he might soon be denied his prey. I turned my attention back to Andrew. He was just passing over the shoreline and was only a few feet over the infected. They knew he was there and reached up towards him, but he passed safely above their outstretched hands. They snarled and roared, angry that he was so close, yet beyond their grasp. In a few moments, he would be safe and I could start my descent.
Suddenly, there was a crash as the glass behind me gave way. Jon had finally broken through. I only had seconds to react and even though Andrew hadn’t quite made it to the boat, I swung myself over the railings and wrapped my legs around the rope. I shifted my hand into place and let my body slide a few feet downwards. With Andrew still on the rope, my extra weight was too much and I felt it slip on the winch. From below I heard a splash as Andrew fell into the water. I glanced down. He was right beside the boat. Mike jumped in and pulled him towards the dive ladder where CJ was waiting to help them on board. I looked up and saw Jon at the railing, his face contorted with rage. He threw his head back and roared in frustration.
With my legs supporting my weight, I let the rope slip through my hands as quickly as I dared. Looking downward, I could see the rope was no longer taught. It hung in a gentle arc that would take me within inches of the grasping arms of the infected. As I neared the ground, I let the rope slip through my hands faster and faster, I was trying to build up enough speed to carry me over the infected before they had the chance to grab hold. I felt the rope stripping the skin from my hands but I didn’t dare slow down.
Just when I thought I’d make it, my descent jerked to a halt and something pulled me downwards. I looked over my shoulder and saw the infected were packed beneath me, hundreds of hands reaching up in their desperation to get to me. My shirt had come loose and one of them had managed to grab the flapping material. Its grip wasn’t strong, but it was enough and I could feel my hands slipping from the rope. I let go with one hand and frantically pulled at the front of my shirt until I felt the buttons pop. I struggled to get my arm out and my hand back on the rope. The shirt now hung even lower and more of the infected grabbed hold. As they pulled, the rope bowed towards them, bringing me almost within reach of their clawing hands. I let go with my other hand and the shirt finally slipped from my body. The pressure off, the rope sprung upwards, carrying me away from them again. A few feet further and I was out over the water. Finally, I was safe.
Back on the boat, Jack greeted me with a hug. I looked round at the others. CJ and Jeff were in tears. Mike and Jimmy sat stone-faced.
‘Andrew told us about Jon.’ Jack patted my shoulder, ‘I guess we should get back out to the anchorage.’
‘Wait, there’s something I need to do first.’ I went into the cabin and got the rifle. Jon was still out on the balcony, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. I remembered what he had told me when we were dealing with the drifters in the harbour after the hurricane; how he thought becoming one of them was worse than dying. I couldn’t bear to leave him there. I felt he deserved better. I shouldered the rifle and took aim but before I could pull the trigger, I felt someone pummelling my back. I turned to see CJ’s tear-stained face. ‘What are you doing? Leave him alone, leave him.’
‘He’s no longer Jon. It might be his body, but his brain, everything that made him who he is, everything you love about him is gone.’
‘You can’t. You just can’t.’
‘It’s what he’d have wanted.’ Jack had come up behind CJ and pulled her to him.
As Jack held her, cradling her head to his chest, his arm covering her ears, I lifted up the rifle and fired. The shot found its mark and I watched as Jon’s body twisted round and tumbled over the railings. It seemed to take an age to fall, lit by the sun against the blue of the sky, but then it was gone, swallowed up by the massed ranks of infected.
We had an emergency meeting of the community later that day, the usual quarantine rules being relaxed just long enough to let Andrew and me attend. I knew Andrew only came along to avoid running into CJ. He just didn’t know what to say to her and felt guilty that his snap decision on the dock had led to Jon’s death.
We were meeting to decide what to do next. The infected were crowding the shores, apparently drawn there by the light. With the sun up, they could no longer see it, but they weren’t dispersing as they’d always done before. They milled like vultures round a carcass, almost as if they were urging each other on, feeding off each other’s energy. They were no longer individuals. Instead, they’d become a swarm.
This was all new to me. I’d never known the infected to act this way. It was as if something had changed within them, but I couldn’t think what. Maybe it was just the numbers. I’d never seen so many of them together in one place before. Whatever the reason, the noise they were making was intense, like the low moan of an animal in pain, but with a crueller edge that sliced deep into your soul. It echoed around the anchorage, and carried on the wind into every cabin. There was nowhere to hide from it.
‘I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s safe here anymore. There’re too many of them. If they stay much longer, I think we’re going to have to move. The noise alone will drive us crazy.’ Jack was addressing the meeting, trying to keep things as calm as possible, but the sounds from the infected set everyone on edge and we were bickering. Everyone started sniping back and forth, talking over each other, and I couldn
’t make out most of what was being said.
Then I heard a voice rise above the rest. ‘If we do, it’s Rob’s fault. He shouldn’t have lit the light. That’s what brought them all here.’
In all the commotion, I couldn’t tell who was speaking, but I heard several people murmur in agreement, even a few ‘yeahs’.
‘It wasn’t Rob’s fault. The rib just fell apart. There was no warning, no warning at all. We did what we had to do to survive. We had no choice,’ Andrew was doing his best to defend me. ‘You’d all have done the same thing if it had been you.’
‘Oh come on, Andrew. Ribs don’t just fall apart.’ I could tell who was speaking this time, and it was Jennifer’s dad. ‘Rob must have overlooked something. There must’ve been something wrong with it.’
It was only on hearing someone else say it that I realised how true this was. Ribs were very reliable and I’d never heard of one failing so completely or so suddenly before. Maybe I had overlooked something, maybe it wasn’t just an accident … maybe it was my fault Jon was dead. The very thought made me sick, but what other explanation could there be?
‘Andrew’s right, it’s not Rob’s fault. It was all he could do.’ I looked up and was surprised to see David on his feet, defending me. I watched in disbelief as he carried on. ‘I’ve said it all along. We can’t rely on boats to keep us safe. We need to clear somewhere on land. We need to have somewhere safe to go if we run into problems like this. If we’d gone with my idea of clearing the peninsula and walling it off, they would have been perfectly safe.’
While I still didn’t think it was feasible, I had to admit David had a point.
‘Look, it’s too late to clear the peninsula. Even I think there’s too many infected there now, but we can still do something. With so many of them here, maybe we can find another part of the island that’s free of them, where we can start setting up a base. I’ve been telling you we need to do this all along. Maybe now you’ll listen to me.’
For Those In Peril (Book 1): For Those In Peril On The Sea Page 26
