For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (24 page)

The
decision made, I returned to the cockpit and gave Daz a new heading to follow.
Since we were now going north-east, parallel to the island’s coast, rather than
north, there was no longer any need to tack and there were no hazards marked on
the chart which we’d have to worry about until we reached the entrance to the
bay itself. With this in mind, I left Daz at the wheel and went back into the
cabin to make a snack.

Down
below, Sophie was still wrapped in the sleeping bag, but she’d fallen asleep. I
tried to be as quiet as possible, yet l managed to wake her as I opened the last
of the cans of soup we’d got from the others in the holding area.

She
stretched and yawned. ‘What time is it?’

‘Just
before one. How are you feeling?

‘Better.’ She blinked blearily. ‘I think.’

‘Do
you think you’d be up for some food?’

‘That
depends.’ She got up, clutching the sleeping bag round her like a cape, and
shuffled unsteadily over to the galley. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m
just warming up some soup.’ I looked at the cans. ‘Tomato and basil. It might
help you feel better if you get something in your stomach.’

‘Okay.’ She shuffled back to the table and collapsed onto the seat. ‘I’ll have
some.’

When
it had been warmed up, I split the soup evenly between five mugs. I handed one
to Sophie and passed three up to the others before taking my own and climbing
back up to the cockpit. Claire blew on hers before taking a mouthful, while Tom
sipped his tentatively, clearly worried it might come straight back up again.

Once
I’d finished mine, I took the wheel to give Daz a chance to finish his
unhindered. While the seas had dropped, it was only because we were in the lee
of the island and the wind was still driving the rain horizontally, meaning the
visibility was poor and I had to rely on the GPS receiver to measure our
progress towards our destination.

Suddenly, there was a noise from below and Sophie shot out of the cabin. She
made it to the left-hand guard rail just in time to throw up over the side. She
wasn’t wearing her waterproofs, her harness or her life jacket, and I was about
to tell her to go and put them on when something loomed out of the darkness
directly ahead of us. It took me a second to realise it was a fish farm, a
series of massive floating cages anchored to the seabed. They must have been new
as I’d never seen them here before and I hadn’t marked them on the chart when
I’d passed through the area the previous year.

Since
we were under sail and they were so close, there was nothing I could do to avoid
the nearest set of cages. In a desperate attempt to avoid hitting them head-on,
I spun the wheel sharply, bringing the nose of the boat into the wind. Sophie
straightened up and turned just as we jibed. The boom of the mizzen swung across
the width of the boat and smacked her hard across the forehead, sending her
tumbling backwards into the water. Claire screamed, but before we could do
anything, our right side slammed into the outer pontoon of the fish farm,
stopping us dead and throwing us all to the deck.

Daz
was the first to scramble to his feet. He ran to the guard rail. ‘Sophie!’

Without thinking, he unclipped himself and leapt into the sea. The rest of us
were up a second later, searching the inky waters, but we could see neither of
them. I grabbed the spotlight, turned it on and shone it into the darkness.

Claire
was yelling desperately, ‘Sophie! Oh my god, Sophie!’

Tom
held her back, preventing her from jumping over the side, too.

Then I
found them: Daz, with his life jacket inflated, holding Sophie’s face out of the
water, blood gushing from a wound on her head. I grabbed the life ring and
holding onto the end of the rope, I threw it towards them, but the wind blew it
out of Daz’s reach. I pulled it in and tried again. This time he managed to grab
it with his free hand and as fast as I dared, I pull them both towards the back
of the boat. As soon as they were within reach, Tom and I lifted Sophie from the
water and placed her carefully on the floor of the cockpit. She lay there,
unmoving; suddenly looking very small in the outsized clothes she was wearing.

Claire
barged past. ‘Out of my way!’

She
knelt down beside Sophie, checking her pulse and her breathing. ‘Shit!’

Working fast, Claire started pushing on Sophie’s chest and breathing into her
mouth. Daz climbed back onto the boat and stood next to Tom and me, shivering,
as we stared down at Claire as she fought desperately to revive her daughter.

There
was a noise behind us: I shone the spotlight into the night and saw a man
running along the pontoon of the fish farm towards us. Behind him were two more:
all three were dressed in the same yellow waterproofs and black boots.

‘Infected!’ My yell alerted Tom and Daz. Together the three of us tried to push
the boat away from the fish farm, but it wouldn’t budge. I ran the spotlight’s
beam along the side of the boat, revealing the point where our guard rail had
become entangled in the metal framework of the cages. The men continued their
charge, their boots rattling the metal walkway as they pounded towards us.

As I
set to work trying get us free, the other two grabbed the boathooks. Tom was the
first one to step onto the pontoon, with Daz close behind. Standing side by
side, they waited for the infected to come within range; Daz trembling with cold
and fear, Tom standing firm. Each held their boathook like a baseball bat, ready
to swing. When the first was only a few feet away, Tom lashed out, grimacing as
pain shot through his still unhealed body. He caught the infected across the
side of its beard-covered face, sending it spinning into the water. It thrashed
there, gripping on to the edge of the walkway and trying desperately to climb
back out. The second arrived, younger and leaner than the first, and moving
faster. This time is was Daz who struck out, catching it on the shoulder rather
than the head: it stumbled, but didn’t go down. Daz swung again, this time
breaking the wooden handle of the boathook across the side of the infected’s
head: it dropped like a stone onto the pontoon.

Tom
and Daz glanced down, wondering what to do with the body which now lay at their
feet. The distraction was enough to allow the third infected, who was little
more than a lanky teenager, to take them by surprise. He lunged for Tom; doing
his best to get out of the way, Tom tripped over the body lying on the walkway
and stumbled into the water, sending the first of the infected into a frenzy as
it stretched its grasping hands towards him. The boy turned his attention to
Daz. Left with only the broken handle, Daz thrust it deep into the infected’s
chest. The boy sank to his knees and Daz kicked him as hard as he could, sending
him tumbling into the cage. As he slipped beneath the surface, I leapt onto the
pontoon and grabbed Tom, pulling him out of the water just before the bearded
man managed to reach him.

The
three of us stood there, breathless and terrified; the wind whipping across our
faces and driving the rain against our skin.

‘D’you
think there’re any more of them?’ Daz’s eyes darted along the walkways,
searching for signs of any further infected.

‘I
don’t know.’ Tom was breathing heavily. ‘Let’s just get the hell away from
here.’

I
slicked my hair back with one hand. ‘It’s going to take time to get the boat
untangled.’

‘How
long?’ Daz was soaking wet and his teeth were starting to chatter as he shivered
and rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself up.

‘I
don’t know; five, maybe ten minutes.’ I jumped back onto the boat where Claire
was still working away on her daughter. I glanced at Sophie: her face was grey
and her lips were blue. ‘Is she doing any better?’

Claire
didn’t stop, or even look up. ‘No.’

‘Is
there anything I can do?’

‘Just
give me space; let me work.’ Claire snapped back.

I
swung myself down into the cabin and searched through my toolbox, looking for
something that might prove useful. I had a hacksaw in mind, but my eyes fell on
a pair of bolt cutters. Grabbing them, I climbed back onto the deck and, with a
last look at Sophie, I ran forward to where Tom and Daz were trying to separate
the metal work of the fish farm from the guard rail.

As I
got there, another infected came screaming out of the darkness. I stepped onto
the walkway and swung the heavy bolt cutters. It stumbled backwards, but it
wasn’t dead. Before it could get back to its feet, I fell on it, swinging the
bolt cutters again and again until its face was barely recognisable. I stared at
what I’d just done, and felt nothing but the rush of adrenaline pumping through
my veins. I quickly turned my attention to the boat. Kneeling on the pontoon, I
realised the situation wasn’t as bad as I’d first assumed. I took the bolt
cutters and cut through the guard rails on either side of where they were
tangled and within seconds the yacht was free.

Almost
immediately, the wind started to push it away, and the moment I realised what
was happening, I leapt for the boat, landing half on the deck and half off. I
struggled, knowing that if I fell into the water, the boat would drift away
faster than I could swim, and with only Claire and an injured Sophie on board,
there was no one who’d be able to sail it back. As we picked up speed, I could
feel my feet dragging through the water and pulling me downwards. Using my
elbows, I fought desperately to pull myself up and, on the third attempt, I
managed to swing my left leg onto the deck. I hung there for a second, regaining
my strength and catching my breath before dragging myself fully on board. The
moment I was there, I jumped to my feet and looked back. Neither Tom or Daz had
realised what was happening and were standing in their blood-streaked jackets,
faces etched with fear, staring after the boat as it drifted ever further from
them.

I ran
back to the cockpit, stepping on the seats to avoid Sophie as Claire continued
to pump her chest and breath for her. The blueness had disappeared from her lips
and there was now a hint of pink to her skin: I hoped this was a good sign.
Claire stopped for a moment and checked Sophie’s pulse before carrying on.

As I
reached the wheel, I spun it to the left, turning us away from the fish farm. I
heard Daz and Tom shouting after us, scared I was leaving them behind, yet I had
no choice: before I could have any hope of going back for them, I’d need to turn
the boat through the wind. With the wheel hard over, the boat tipped sharply to
the left as it turned.

Without even taking her eyes of Sophie, Claire screamed angrily. ‘Keep the
bloody thing stable!’

‘I’m
doing my best.’ I straightened up the helm, ‘but we need to go back for the
others!’

Claire
glanced round. ‘Where the hell are they?’

‘On
the fish farm.’ I turned the wheel again. ‘There are infected there, too.’

Claire
paused for a second, seeing the blood on my jacket for the first time and
realising how dangerous the situation had become. ‘Just try and keep us as
steady as possible.’

The
boat finished its turn and we were once again running north-east. I was aiming
to steer a course which would take us along the side of the pontoon that was at
a right angle to the one we’d previously hit. As we drew alongside, another
infected, this time a woman, appeared out of the night, running at Tom and Daz.
Weaponless, they’d stand little chance if I didn’t get to them before the
infected did. As soon as I thought we were close enough, I pulled the wheel to
the left, but oversteered and the boat crashed against the pontoon. Luckily, we
didn’t become entangled again, and Tom leapt, landing heavily on the foredeck.
Daz followed a moment later, but by then we were bouncing away from the fish
farm and he only just made it across the widening gap. As he landed, Tom had to
grab him to stop him falling backwards into the sea.

The
woman drew level with us and screamed as she threw herself towards the boat. I
turned the wheel to the right, taking us far enough from the pontoon to ensure
she didn’t land on the deck. Instead, her hands closed over the guard rail and
she hung there, struggling to drag herself on board. I pulled the wheel to the
left once more, aiming for the pontoon. As we glanced off it again, the woman
was crushed between the edge of the fish cage and the hull. I watched as her
grip loosened and she dropped into the water.

Beneath me, I heard a cough and a splutter, and I looked down to see Sophie
spitting water onto the deck. I shifted my gaze to Claire. ‘That was a long time
to not be breathing for; will she be okay?’

A
second later, Sophie’s eyes opened and she tried to sit up. Claire hugged her,
the tears streaming down her face. She looked up at me, ‘I timed it. It was only
three minutes.’ She stroked Sophie’s wet hair and smiled. ’She’ll be fine.’

As Tom
and Daz made their way back to the cockpit, I stood amazed at all that had
happened in such a short length of time: to me it had seemed like hours.

Chapter
Eleven

I woke
the next morning to find I’d fallen asleep in the cockpit. After we were free of
the fish farm, Claire and Tom had helped Sophie below, while Daz and I remained
on deck. The rest of the trip had been uneventful and we’d finally pulled into
the bay at Port Ellen just before three. As we dropped the anchor and brought
down the sails, I looked round, but could see nothing in the darkness. The bay
was sheltered, but the wind was still strong enough that I worried the anchor
might drag in the night, so when Daz went below, I remained on watch, huddled in
the cockpit in my waterproofs, alert to any unexpected changes in our position.