Noah's Ark: Survivors (26 page)

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Authors: Harry Dayle

BOOK: Noah's Ark: Survivors
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The anger within Jake exploded. He drew in both his arms, pulling the two men restraining him in close, and then threw them outwards. It all happened in a split second, and the energy he put into the movement was enough to send both men staggering. He immediately drew back his hand, clenched his fingers into a fist, and rammed it into Flynn’s abdomen. Jake had never hit anyone before and had no idea what to expect. Even so, the resistance in the tensed muscles his hand connected with took him by surprise. Flynn was no slouch, he kept himself in shape. If the punch caused him any pain, he didn’t let it show. Before Jake could pull back for another shot, he felt his arms being restrained. He didn’t put up a fight, he knew it was pointless.

“When you drop him in that raft, take out the oars,” Flynn said. He turned and sat back down in the captain’s chair. “And if you see the other two, tell them to hurry up with finding a driver. Let’s burn some fuel.”

Jake was marched off the bridge. The journey back down through the ship was not as quiet as that from the theatre an hour earlier. People were out and about. Word of events had got around, and even those who had not witnessed the shooting were aware of what had happened, even if their grasp of the facts was not entirely accurate. Most people simply stopped and stared at Jake as he was marched along by his escorts. Some jeered. A few shouted “murderer!” One spat. But at no time did Jake try and protest his innocence, he knew there was nothing to be gained by it. A thousand people believed that they had seen him shoot and kill. He hoped he might at least see Silvia, or Barry, or Grau. They might believe him. They knew him well enough to know he would never take a life, at least not in the way he had been framed. Ibsen had been a different matter; that was self-defence. The memory of the fight in his cabin, and how it had ended, turned his blood cold. He
was
a killer. He
had
taken another man’s life. Was it so hard to think he would do it again? The realisation made his legs go weak. He stumbled and fell.

“Get up,” the German grunted.

Jake couldn’t get up. His head was spinning. Being framed, having people who didn’t know him think that he was the gunman, that was something he could just about cope with. But having his close colleagues, his friends, believe that he was capable of this? That was too much. And Lucya? The thought of Flynn and his plans for her sent him over the edge. He began to shake uncontrollably, face down on the floor.
 

“I said get up!”

His convulsions were making it hard to breathe. He didn’t care. He wanted to die, right there and then. He knew he should never have survived the asteroid. That he had survived but not stopped Ibsen before he’d killed Hollen just deepened his guilt. Hollen would have made a great captain, he would never have let all this happen. A confusion of thoughts coursed through his mind. A sharp blow to his ribcage sent a wave of pain through his body. He felt a rib crack. His breathing became even more laboured.

“Get up, or I will kick the life out of you,” the German growled.

He was bent over Jake, speaking directly into his ear. Apparently unwilling to wait for him to comply, and with the help of his silent counterpart, he hauled Jake to his feet.

“Now, walk!”

The pain in his side overrode all other thoughts. A small crowd had gathered, jeering and calling out.

“Murderer!”

“You’re pathetic, they should kill you right here!”

“Why did you do it?”

“Coward!”

Something snapped in his head, clicked everything into focus. He couldn’t change these people’s minds about what he had done, but he could go out with his head held high. Better to be remembered as defiant to the last, than as a coward. With considerable effort, and even more pain, he put one foot in front of the other and took a step. Then another, and another. He looked at the crowd of people. Tried to speak. The words came out in short bursts, between gasps for air.

“I didn’t…kill anyone…I was framed… Believe what…ever you want…but I beg you…choose a new….a new captain…he’s evil…Flynn is evil.”

A punch to the kidneys made any further speech impossible. He was in too much pain to try and make words. Besides, it was clear that the few words he had managed had fallen on deaf ears; the blow he’d just taken was met with spontaneous applause and cheering.
 

The rest of the walk down through the decks felt to Jake like it took a lifetime. The lower in the ship they got, the fewer people they encountered. As they reached deck two, Jake felt the familiar vibrations of the engines spinning up to full operating speed.

Fifty-Three

W
ITH
A
SNAP
, the tie binding Lucya’s hands together gave way. She had lost all feeling in her left arm but, with her right arm in front of her, pushing against the floor, she brought herself back into a sitting position. Immediately she felt the blood rush back into the previously trapped limb. The numbness was replaced by a tingling which became so intense it was painful. She swung the arm backwards and forwards, trying to recover some sensation. With both hands now free she was able to grab another piece of smashed chair leg. It made short work of the tie holding her feet together. She tried to stand, but the cord that was bound around her legs and the seat of the chair restricted her movement too much. Trying to work it down her legs so that she could step out of it didn’t help, it was tied too tightly. She picked up the sharp piece of broken chair again, and began sawing.

It took a good ten minutes to sever the cord, but finally she was free. She struggled to her feet and, with her hands held out in front of her, carefully and quietly she stepped forwards.

In the time she had taken to free herself, Lucya’s eyes had grown more accustomed to the dark and she could just about make out silhouettes and outlines. She was fairly sure she was in a bedroom, given the large and flat shape in the middle. She headed for that first and, reaching down to touch it, her fingers made contact with a thick, puffy quilt. Rounding the bed and feeling her way as she went, she walked gingerly towards where she thought the door should be. Before her outstretched hands detected the extremity of the room, her knees came crashing into something low and hard. The noise of the impact sent her heart rate soaring. She froze, holding her breath for what seemed like an eternity, terrified that someone would come charging in to see what had happened. But nobody came to check on her, and the only sound was that of the blood pumping through her ears. She lowered her hands and discovered that her route had been blocked by a chest of drawers. Working her way sideways along the furniture for a few metres, she eventually found the unmistakable texture of the door.

With the tips of her fingers she lightly explored the surface until they alighted on the handle. She put her ear to the door and listened intently, trying to determine if there was someone on the other side. Once again, the only sound she could hear was that of her own heart thumping, firing adrenaline around her body, preparing her for a fight. Ever so slowly, she turned the handle, covering it with her free hand as if doing so might mask any noise. But there was no sound. The well-maintained mechanism turned smoothly and silently. With the slightest of tugs the door came towards her. A vertical bar of light from outside streaked across her face. She glanced behind her and saw that the window had been boarded up, explaining the lack of daylight in the bedroom.

Lucya turned back to the door, pulled it open a little more, and peered through the gap. Beyond it was a sitting room. Although much brighter than the bedroom, it wasn't well lit. Curtains had been drawn across the balcony double doors, letting through only a dim glow. A sofa and two chairs were arranged around a low table. Someone was sitting in one of the chairs, facing towards Lucya. She recognised who it was at once.

“Tania!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper.

Fifty-Four

F
OR
THE
SECOND
time that day, Jake stepped onto the extendible steps which led to the platform normally used for boarding the tender. This time though, there was no tender, only the inflatable life raft that he himself had ordered be tied up there.

“Down.” The German prodded him in the back.

He looked around helplessly, half hoping to see someone, anyone, come charging out onto the steps to save him from his fate.

Nobody came.
 

“Do you want me to hit you again? I can hit you again.”

He had a feeling the German enjoyed hitting people, and wondered what the guy had done in life, before coming on this cruise. Before the world ended. He didn’t think he had worked as a henchman for a nutter who believed he was Adam reincarnate. He was probably a lawyer. Or a dentist. Or a computer programmer. Someone with a repetitive regular job that offered no excitement. And so what, he asked himself, would become of the others on the ship? How much did it take for normal, nice, ordinary people to turn mercenary? When the food started running out, things were going to turn nasty pretty fast. Entire wars had been fought for reasons less important than self-preservation. But Flynn must have known all that. He was probably counting on it. Find the women, make them all secure on one deck. Defend that deck at all costs, and then let everyone else fight amongst themselves. They would do the job for him, finishing themselves off.
 

“You are going to die in that boat, but I could just as easily kill you here. Flynn won’t know any different.”

The German was losing his temper. Jake shook his head, as if he might be able to shake the terrible thoughts and images out. He started down the steps towards the raft.

At the bottom, the Chinese man held onto him while Gunter reached into the inflatable and pulled out the oars. Behind Jake there was a sudden rush of water, an eruption of millions of bubbles. A strong current pushed the raft away from the ship, stretching the rope to its maximum extent. The bow thruster churned up the fjord, turning the blue-green water white. The
Spirit of Arcadia
slowly started to ease away from the coast.

“Get in,” the German commanded, pointing at the tiny vessel.

The sides of the raft were low, designed to make it easy to board from the sea. But that made it hazardous to enter by more conventional means. The pain in Jake’s side caused by his broken rib made it difficult to crouch. He was having trouble working out quite how to get in without tipping the thing over. Gunter saved him from having to think further with a hefty shove in the back. He was sent flailing into the raft, where he landed face down with a slap. With a bolt of excruciating pain shooting through his side, he blacked out.

Fifty-Five

L
UCYA
PULLED
THE
door fully open and ran to the head of housekeeping. Tania looked up, smiling at her.

“Tania, we’ve been so worried about you!”

“There’s no need, I've been fine. They’ve treated me very well.”

“Why haven’t they let you go? Melvin’s in charge now, he's the head of the rebel passengers. They took you to force Jake’s hand, so he had to let Melvin on the bridge. But now he's in charge, surely they don't need you?”

“It's not that simple, Lucya.”

“Do you know why I’m here? Do you know how long I've been here? All I remember was walking to my cabin.”

“I think they brought you in about an hour ago, maybe a bit longer.”

“Okay. Did you see how many there are? Are they guarding the door? Are you hurt? Can you help me fight them?”

Lucya looked at the woman seated in front of her. She seemed to be remarkably calm. Something didn’t feel right. If she’d been here all along she must have heard the chair break, and the crash of the drawer unit. The door between the sitting room and the bedroom wasn’t locked. Why hadn't she come and helped her?

“My dear Lucya, we’re not going anywhere. We are going to stay right here. Why don’t you sit down?”

“What? No! We need to get out of here. Jake could be in trouble!”

“I wouldn’t worry about Jake anymore. I wouldn’t worry about anyone else. Jake has been taken care of. Really, sit down for a bit. Flynn will be here soon, he’ll explain everything for you.”

“Flynn? Who the hell is Flynn? Are you working with Melvin?”

“Melvin is dead. At least, he should be by now. Flynn is the captain, if everything has gone to plan. He’s going to save us, Lucya. We’re the lucky ones, the chosen ones. We will be treated like queens. You’ll see. Flynn will explain it all.”

“Oh my God, they got inside your head, didn’t they? They got you believing crazy stuff. Tania, I’m really sorry, if you can’t help me then I’m going to have to go on my own. But we’ll come back for you. When I find Jake, we’ll get Max and come back for you, I promise.”

Lucya started for the main cabin door. She heard Tania spring to her feet behind her.

“Stop!”

“Come with me, Tania!”

Lucya tried the door. It was locked. She heard a click and turned back to see what had made the sound. Tania was right behind her. Her hand flew up to Lucya’s neck. She was clasping a knife.

“I said, stop. Now, walk very slowly with me. If you don’t want to sit here with me in comfort that’s fine. But you’re going back in your cage until Flynn comes.”

Lucya tried to resist, but the blade pressed harder against her throat, stretching the skin dangerously close to breaking point. She had no choice but to obey. A wrong move and the sharp knife would slip through her flesh, opening her windpipe and severing arteries. Very carefully, the two women shuffled back to the bedroom. Once inside, Tania turned them both around so that she had her back to the door, then pulled away the blade and stepped back, pulling the door shut behind her. Lucya heard a sound like a bolt sliding. She immediately tried opening the door, pulling it hard several times, but it was no good. Someone had fitted a fastening to the outside. She was locked in.

Fifty-Six

J
AKE
WASN

T
ALLOWED
to remain unconscious for long. Icy cold water splashing onto the back of his head brought him round quickly. With a groan he tried to roll over onto his back. Another splash of water soaked his legs. He heard laughing behind him. With difficulty he managed to pull his knees up and get onto all fours, and turned on the spot so that he was facing the landing platform. The Chinese man was batting one of the oars into the sea, sending arcs of water into the raft. Gunter apparently found this hilarious.

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