The rest of us leave the room and also the sound of the men grunting and groaning as they lift Ray’s lifeless body.
‘Heavy, for a skinny guy,’ Luke pants as I walk away, linking arms with Susie.
‘They say that a body is heavier when it’s dead than when it’s alive,’ Susie whispers.
‘I’ve heard that too. I wonder why.’
She shrugs and pulls the woollen cardigan back on, which was slipping off her shoulder. ‘I’m cold.’ She shudders. ‘Do you think we can still use the showers? I just want to wash all of this away.’
I hug her. ‘I know, me too.’
As we enter the living area again, solemn faces greet us. Every person in the room looks grim. ‘We need to eat. We must keep our energy up.’ Fiona gets to her feet and rubs her tired eyes. ‘Besides, all that food will go off if we don’t.’
‘Well, I for one am starving.’ Frank pats his large gut with pride.
‘How can you even think of eating at a time like this?’ Susie asks, horror-struck. ‘A man has just been killed.’
‘We cannot all just give up and die too.’ Anya agrees with Fiona but refuses to look her in the eye.
‘Very well. I’ll prepare something for us all.’ Fiona claps her hands together in an efficient manner and leaves the room.
‘I could do with some meat,’ Frank mutters.
I see Dominique turn quite green and then dash out of the room towards the loo.
‘You really are an animal,’ Anya spits at Frank with a look of contempt.
‘All animal,’ Frank growls just as Patrick, Luke and Sam appear. ‘But I didn’t plunge that needle into Ray’s scrawny neck and one of you did. So who here really is the animal?’
‘What’s going on?’ Patrick asks, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple.
‘All done?’ Susie says quietly.
‘Yes.’ Patrick nods and looks grave.
‘Well, Fiona has gone to make us all something to eat.’ Anya stands and moves away from Frank.
‘Good.’
I can’t hold it in anymore. ‘I’m sorry, but has everyone forgotten the fucking predicament we are facing?’
The room goes quiet, so much so that you can hear the flicker of the candle flame. No one says a word.
‘Come on, everyone!’ My voice is rising in pitch with each word. ‘What are we going to do?’ Still silence. ‘Patrick.’ I turn to face him. ‘Please, you are the captain; you must know what to do. Surely there is something…’ My words trail off when I realise Patrick can’t look me in the eye and has instead fixed his stare to a spot on the floor.
‘He doesn’t have a clue.’ Frank bangs his fist on the table in frustration. ‘We’ve been sent down here with a fucking cowboy! And to top it off, one of you fuckers is a killer.’
‘No,’ Anya interjects as her cheeks grow red, ‘don’t speak to him like that.’
‘It’s okay, Anya, really.’ Patrick smiles at her gratefully. ‘We are all upset.’
‘Upset?’ Frank chuckles bitterly. ‘This is your tin can, but you can’t fix it, can you?’
‘I can’t stand any more of this!’ I sink to the floor holding my head in my hands as the claustrophobic world I inhabit starts to spin.
‘Get her a glass of water,’ I hear Susie say, although her voice sounds far away. ‘I think she might faint.’
And just then everything starts to go black and their words slip away until I can hear and see nothing.
13
The Pica Explorer
Day three. Hour 07:00.
When I wake up, I am lying on a bunk in the same room where Ray died. No one else is here and the quiet wraps its hands around my throat as I sit bolt upright trying to breathe.
A glass of water has been placed on my bedside and I drink the cool liquid as if my life depended on it. Once the glass has been drained I put it back down and wipe my lips dry. The room is dark and I feel like a prisoner in this place. The metal, the cold, the strange noises that seem to echo around the whole of the submarine only compound my fear and I wish that I was back on land.
I cannot bring myself to imagine what might be living in the water that surrounds us. At this depth I suspect there are some very strange looking creatures.
Even now, as an adult, I don’t like being out of my depth when I’m in the sea. The thought of sharks, eels and jellyfish terrify me. They are so alien. I was stung once by something in the sea off Sicily and it hurt like hell.
I’ve always thought that I stood more chance of making it back to shore if I didn’t go out of my depth. How ironic that I now find myself so far out of my depth and, worse still, that I am going to die down here.
As that thought crosses my mind I find myself starting to feel sick once more and a thin layer of sweat appears instantly across my skin and my mouth fills with bitter-tasting bile.
Somewhere in the distance I can hear voices. The others are talking but their words are muffled and I cannot make out what it is they are saying.
Gingerly, I get up off my bunk, feeling somewhat like Bambi on ice. Steadying myself with my hand, I lean against the cold metal for a moment and close my eyes, hoping the dizziness will pass. Putting my ear to the door I listen to the people speaking on the other side.
‘Who do you think it is?’ I recognise Dominique’s voice.
‘Not a clue but I’d bet it is one of the men,’ Sam replies.
‘Yes, no woman could ever be so brutal.’
‘I suspect Frank. He’s got a hell of a temper.’
‘Maybe.’ Dominique sounds distant and I listen to their footsteps trail away.
Just then I hear a scream coming from somewhere in the sub.
Without even realising my legs are managing to move, I find myself seeking the person responsible for the noise as I open the door and trip along the narrow corridor, feeling my way in the near total darkness. As I pass by one of the small round windows something catches my eye and I stop.
Outside, in the cold water, a light from the submarine is shining on something. I peer a little closer and realise that the something is a large, grotesque shark. In horror I recoil backwards, banging my head on a thick pipe. The large, cumbersome creature appears to have stopped by the window to look inside. Its small, milky, soulless eye stares in through the minute window.
It is super-sized and must be at least six metres long. Perhaps everything in the depths is bigger.
I know it cannot get to me but the fact that we are trapped in its territory, unable to escape, fills me with dread. The creature remains quite still, floating next to the sub. It opens its large jaws and now it is my turn to scream.
Moments later, Sam, Luke and Dominique appear to investigate.
‘Are you all right?’ Luke asks looking ashen.
Unable to speak I point at the prehistoric fish with a quivering hand.
‘Oh, that’s cool.’ Luke moves closer to get a better look while Dominique comes over to me and puts her long slender arm around me.
‘It can’t hurt you,’ she soothes.
‘What is all the noise?’ Anya has appeared and stands looking unimpressed with her hands on her hips.
‘She freaked because of the shark.’ Luke nods his head towards the direction of the window as Anya steps forward, pushing him out the way so that she can see.
‘It is a Greenland shark,’ she says, as if that should mean something to any of us. We all stare at her blankly.
‘It is one of the largest species in the ocean. It is a scavenger shark that is drawn to the smell of rotting flesh.’
‘Lovely,’ Sam adds, wrinkling up his nose.
‘It knows,’ I manage to stutter. ‘Somehow it knows.’
‘Knows what?’ Anya turns to me and rolls her eyes.
‘That we are all going to die here. It can smell our fear.’
Dominique starts to stroke my head. ‘No, sweetie. It doesn’t.’
‘Then why is it staring at us?’
‘It ha
s probably just come to investigate the sub.’ Anya shrugs. ‘Anyway, enough of this, you scared me half to death. Please don’t scream like that. Our nerves are all on tenterhooks as it is.’
And then I remember.
‘I wasn’t me,’ I say. ‘I mean, it was me but it wasn’t just me. I heard someone else cry out too. That’s why I’m here. I came to see what the screaming was about. I think it came from through there.’ I point, my hand still shaking.
‘Where are the others?’ Sam asks looking uneasy.
‘Not sure,’ says Luke.
‘I heard someone cry out. I know I did.’ I turn to Dominique and look into her large eyes.
‘Well let’s go and see what the fuss is about, shall we?’ Anya states before marching off in the direction I pointed to. Eventually we all follow suit.
At the far end of the sub it is especially dark and cold.
‘I think it came from the engine room.’ My voice quivers.
As Anya opens the heavy door we are all hit with a metallic smell of blood.
The blue light from above reflects on the pool of thick blood on the floor, giving it a purple tinge. Kneeling over a body is Fiona. The blood has soaked into her trousers and is all over her hands.
‘What have you done?’ Luke’s words echo around the metal room.
‘I-I…’ Her tear-stained face is illuminated.
‘Is he dead?’ Sam asks, putting his hand up over his mouth and nose to try and protect himself from the smell.
‘I-I…’ Fiona continues to stutter.
‘I am not staying here.’ Dominique turns and rushes away from the bloody scene.
‘Who is it?’ I ask from the back, unable to really see the body.
‘Patrick,’ Fiona wails and throws herself over the butchered corpse.
‘This is too much, man.’ Luke also turns and leaves in a hurry.
‘What happened?’ Anya bends down. Her face is extremely pale and her eyes brim with tears.
‘I don’t know,’ Fiona sobs, ‘I just found him like this.’ Snot runs down her top lip.
‘This is nuts.’ Sam turns to me. ‘We’ve got to get off this fucking thing. There is a psycho on board. I don’t trust any of you.’
‘You found him?’ Anya asks with scepticism but Fiona is too busy looking down at her blood-covered hands to hear.
Getting up, Anya wipes her eyes and carefully steps around Fiona. She bends down beside Patrick and feels for a pulse. Her eyes tell us he is gone. Then she strokes the hair away from his face, revealing his large, open, glassy eyes and rests her hand on his bloody chest. At which point Sam turns and throws up.
The smell of his vomit mixed with the stench of blood makes me want to pass out and I slip away from them all, unable to face it anymore.
14
Anya
I’ve always wanted to work with marine life. Even when I was very young, I knew this was my calling and I studied hard at school in Malmö where I grew up. My father was a science teacher and my mother was a seamstress. We lived in a lovely house by the water and I was a very happy child. I had lots of friends and I did well in school. I got good grades in my exams and made it to the University of Gothenburg where I studied marine biology when I was twenty.
I moved to England when I was twenty-four and went to Plymouth University where I did my master’s. That is where I met Patrick. Even now, five years later, I find it strange referring to him as Patrick. When we met I knew him as Dr Skuse. He was my lecturer in Plymouth.
Despite his age and slightly scruffy appearance he was attractive. He had eyes as blue as the ocean and he was tall, which I liked.
Some of the other students used to make fun of his hair behind his back, but I thought it suited him like that. It was a bit long, perhaps, and a bit dishevelled but he wore it well.
When I graduated from Plymouth, Patrick was also coming to the end of his time as a guest lecturer. He had been offered an opportunity, on board a commercial submarine, to explore the Norwegian Sea. I was young, ambitious and he knew me well, so he offered me a job working alongside him. I didn’t have to think long before accepting his offer.
We have worked together for over a year now and he is an inspiration. His passion for the ocean never fails to impress me. He is a remarkable man.
Things changed though when Fiona joined us. I had always been the centre of his attention and that altered because of her. She is much more pushy than I am. She is a strong woman who knows her mind. The fact that she is closer to his age, I think, makes a difference.
It was only when she appeared that I realised I was in love with Patrick. Up until that point I hadn’t known. Although we were not lovers it felt as though he was mine, but then she arrived and I had to get used to sharing him. It was a struggle being in such close proximity to someone I was infatuated with. On the submarine there was no getting away from her or him.
It had been good working side by side with him up until that point. She ruined everything but what made it worse still was that I actually quite liked her. She could be very funny and she was smart. I liked her and I was angry with myself for that.
Despite myself, we started to build a friendship. It was nice having another woman on board when most of my colleagues were men. We would play chess together some evenings, using the set she had brought with her to help pass the long and boring nights.
Fiona had originally been in the navy but, after retiring, decided to get involved with scientific projects that required her to use the skills she’d learnt while serving. She had never married or had children and I used to wonder why until one evening over a tense game of chess I asked her.
‘Oh, Anya, didn’t you know? I like men and women. I could never choose one over the other. This way I get the best of both worlds.’
I remember blushing when she said it. I hadn’t known she was bisexual and it came as a bit of a surprise. I hoped she didn’t fancy me.
‘Oh, I see,’ I said, unable to meet her eye. I tried to focus my attention on the game in hand.
Then one evening a little while later I made a discovery.
I’d been in the living area writing up my notes on the day’s findings. The sub was very quiet since most of the crew had gone to bed. I was concentrating hard on making sure that I got all the information down correctly when I heard a sound coming from the control room of the sub. Putting my pen down I got up and went closer to have a better listen. It was a strange sound and I put my ear to the door to try to decipher it. When I still couldn’t work out if it was coming from a person or something mechanical I pushed the door open a fraction so that I could see.
To my horror, I saw Patrick and Fiona having sex. He was so busy thrusting into her that he didn’t see me standing there – but she did, and she smiled at me and winked. At that point I turned and ran off. I took myself down to the engine room and cried my eyes out. I felt betrayed by them both.
It sickened me that she was such a whore. They weren’t even having sex in a bed, just over a seat. How could they?
I sat on the cold metal floor and banged my fists against the wall, my hurt quickly turning to rage. The look she had given me was unforgivable. I’d not mentioned my feelings for Patrick to her but she knew, the way women always just know these things, she knew. To wink at me really was offensive. I thought we were friends. Why had she been so cruel?
This was not the first time in my life that I had come across a woman who I’d liked, and trusted, but who turned out to be a bitch. It made me sad when I accepted that it wasn’t likely to be the last time either.
But I was a good person. I worked hard, I was loyal – I didn’t deserve this and more than that, Patrick didn’t deserve it. He was a good man who had been led astray by the brain in his trousers. Did he even know she swung both ways? If so, didn’t he care?
Patrick had always struck me as a monogamist, so what was going on? Then it dawned on me; perhaps he was in love. It had happened to me, stuck down here in this claustro
phobic space, why couldn’t the same thing have happened to him? But I was devastated that it was her he had fallen for and not me. For a moment I found myself wishing that it had been me, bent over the seat, making him happy and listening to him groan.
For the first time since I’d set foot on the sub I wished I wasn’t there. I wanted to be back with my family in Sweden, surrounded by the familiar comfort of home. I missed my mother and father suddenly, even though I hadn’t seen them for some time. It was difficult to keep in touch when you spent months away at sea.
Suddenly I longed to be back in my old bedroom, snuggled up in my bedding, inhaling the familiar smell of the washing powder my mother always used. But it was a waste of time, thinking like that. I was not at home. I was in the engine room of a cold metal submarine, drying my eyes while my heart continued to break.
As I got to my feet, still shaking a bit, I realised that before very long I would have to face them both. There was nowhere to hide and the next morning I would be expected to sit with them both over breakfast and pretend nothing had changed. I could just about manage it with Patrick, because he didn’t know I’d seen them, but sharing a pot of coffee with Fiona was an entirely different prospect.
Still feeling utterly miserable I made my way into the bunkroom I shared with Fiona and two others and got into my bed.
Lying in the dark, listening to my own breathing, I waited for the door to open and for Fiona to take herself to bed but that sound didn’t come until much later. Knowing she had been with Patrick all that time made me want to cry but I refused to let her hear my sadness. She wouldn’t take my dignity from me as well as everything else.
All I had to do was make it through the night without crying like a child. The next day would be awful and I needed all my strength to be able to face them both and keep up the pretence that everything was okay. But in my heart I knew it would never be the same again and for the first time since getting on board I felt utterly alone.
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