For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (29 page)

Claire
stepped forward and leant on the guard rail. ‘It means someone knows somewhere
where it’s safe to land a plane!’

Sophie
leapt enthusiastically to her feet, scrunching up her eyes, trying to get a
better look at the aircraft. ‘Can we follow it?’

I
turned back to the plane and tracked it for a few seconds. ‘Not at the speed
it’s flying.’

‘What
about attractin’ their attention?’ Daz waved his hands back and forth above his
head. ‘If they know we’re here, maybe they can let us know where they took off
from, or where they’re goin’.’

Sophie
started waving, too, as did Tom

‘Good
idea, but they’ll never see you from that distance.’ I ducked into the cabin and
rifled through the chart table, looking for my flare gun. Back on deck, I
slotted a cartridge into the chamber, held it above my head and pulled the
trigger. The flare arched high into the sky before slowly drifting back towards
the water: the plane didn’t respond. I reloaded the gun and fired again. For a
moment, I thought that this one hadn’t been seen either, but then the plane
slowly banked, only straightening up again when it was heading directly towards
us. Wanting to make sure they didn’t miss us, I grabbed one of the smoke signals
I kept in a waterproof canister by the helm and pulled the strap to ignite it;
it burst into life, sending a bright orange flame several feet into the air and
red smoke billowing out across the water.

Within
minutes, the plane was directly above us. I moved the smoke signal back and
forth, indicating our presence and wondering what they’d make of us: our decks
still grubby from the ash which had fallen on us after Glasgow had been bombed;
lobster creels strapped to the top of the cabin; and Claire and Sophie dressed
in mismatched and outsized men’s clothes. The plane circled round once and then
started to descend. At first, I wondered what it was doing, but then I spotted
the floats hanging below the fuselage; it was a seaplane and it was coming into
land. That’s when it struck me: if it could land on the water, maybe Claire was
wrong and there wasn’t any safe place to land on the shore after all; the sense
of hope its appearance had kindled within me vanished in an instant.

The
plane’s floats hit the sea’s surface, sending white plumes into the air; it
bounced, leaving the water for several yards, before coming down again. I
watched as it slowed to a crawl and then taxied over to us, a sense of
trepidation bubbling inside me: this was the first time we’d seen another living
soul since we’d left the Clyde, or at least one that wasn’t infected. The
seaplane came to rest some ten yards from where we were clustered in the
cockpit. For a minute, it just floated there; then the door swung open and a
figure stepped out onto the left-hand float. As the person emerged, I saw a leg
clad in tight black trousers tucked into a leather motorcycle boot, followed by
a body wearing a camouflage jacket; then, as the person turned, I saw a shotgun
held loosely in one hand. Finally, they straightened up and we could see them
clearly for the first time.

‘It’s
a woman!’ Daz exclaimed in surprised.

Sophie
punched him in the arm. ‘Don’t sound so shocked. Women can be pilots too, you
know.’

A
broad grin spread across my face. ‘Mitch! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore
eyes!’

Tom
turned to me, confused. ‘You know her?’

‘Hey,
Ben; I thought I recognised the boat!’ Mitch took off her sunglasses, looking
serious for a moment. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got to ask; you’re all okay, aren’t you?
None of you are ill or anything?’

‘No,
we’re all fine.’ I replied

Relief
spread across her face. ‘Good!’

I
smiled at her. ‘Well, are you going to come over and say hello properly, or are
we just going to stand here shouting at each other all day?’

She
smiled back. ‘Throw me a rope, then!’

‘I was
lucky, I guess. I had a charter trip booked for two, and I was running through
my usual pre-flight checks. Suddenly, this guy appeared out of nowhere, running
flat-out. He kept looking back over his shoulder and I couldn’t understand what
was going on. Then I heard them: this mass of people, yelling and screaming, all
chasing after him. The man saw me and the plane, and turned in my direction. He
was shouting something, but I couldn’t hear him above the noise of the people
who were following him.

‘He
was about twenty yards away when he slipped and went crashing to the ground. As
he struggled to get back to his feet, the crowd finally caught up with him, and
they just tore into him. He tried to fight them off, but it was pointless and
within seconds he’d been ripped limb from limb, right there in front of me.
That’s when I realised what must be happening. I was frozen with fear, but I
knew I had to force myself to move before they noticed I was there and attacked
me, too. As quietly as possible, I crept over and undid the lines holding the
seaplane to the dock, and then I slipped into the cockpit.

‘I
started the engine, and that’s when they realised I was there. They flew along
the dock as I pulled away, not even stopping when they reached the end as they
threw themselves towards me. They gripped onto the float and the side of the
plane, and I knew I’d never be able to take off with all the extra weight. One
of them, this big muscular guy, was hammering on the window and I knew it was
only a matter of time before he broke through. I had no option but to open the
door and slam it into him again and again until he finally fell off into the
water. Then I pushed the throttle forward, and the plane started moving faster.
This dislodged more and more of them until there was only one left, yet no
matter what I tried it clung on. The plane lifted from the water, but with the
extra weight of the infected hanging from the float I struggled to get enough
height …’

‘Wait
a second.’ I remembered our near miss when we’d first taken to the Clyde. ‘That
was you? You were the one who just about flew into us?’

‘Oh,
so you’re the boat that got in my way! I didn’t recognise you. I was too
distracted, what with having some mad Weegie bastard trying to kill me!’

Despite everything, I laughed. It was the type of casual banter Mitch and I
always shared whenever we got together: her ragging on me for being from
Glasgow, and me making fun of her for being from the islands. A few years older
than me, we’d met the first summer I started running my own whale-watching tours
on the west coast of Scotland and we’d stayed in touch ever since. We each had
our own business — hers running a seaplane service between Glasgow and the
islands — so we didn’t get together much, but whenever we ended up in the same
place, we made a point of spending time together, usually over a few drinks in
the nearest bar. I looked at the plane, wondering why I hadn’t recognised it as
Mitch’s immediately. Then it occurred to me. ‘That’s not the one you were flying
last year, is it?’

‘No,
it’s a new one. I’ve only had it a couple of months: business was so good last
summer, I thought I’d invest in a bigger one for this year.’ She glanced at it
and sighed. ‘Shows what I know!’

Considering the circumstances, Mitch was looking in good shape and I was keen to
find out how she’d been surviving. ‘So, where did you go after you left
Glasgow?’

‘I
went to Loch Lomond first, just to regroup and check the plane hadn’t been
damaged. Once I heard how bad it was getting I headed out this way; I ended up
in Tobermory. It took a few days for the disease to reach there, and this meant
they had enough time to get prepared. They got together and set up barricades to
keep the place safe, well some of it. A lot of people still died, or got
infected, but there are about fifty of them left, hanging on. It’s where I’ve
mainly been basing myself. We’ve always kept a fuel dump there, so I’ve been
flying around trying to work out where there are survivors and which communities
have been overrun.’

I
leant forwards. ‘How many are there?’

‘I’ve
found ten groups, so far; maybe a couple of hundred people in all; mostly on the
smaller islands and further north. I’ve found nothing south of Mull.’

That
fitted with what we’d found at Port Ellen and on Jura.

Mitch
continued. ‘Everyone’s just so shocked at what’s happened, but we’re hanging in
there, y’know. Some of the groups are more friendly than others, but there’s
only one I know about which I haven’t been able to speak to at all and that’s on
Iona. They just won’t let me near, and I can’t really blame them: it’s a risk
letting strangers come ashore now.’

She
paused for a moment. ‘That’s how it was at first, then this group of naval
personnel showed up in a couple of large ribs. They set themselves up on Rhum,
and they’ve been throwing their weight around ever since. For some reason, they
think they’re in charge, and that we should all do what they say. It’s a bit of
a pain, but we’re hoping if we ignore them for long enough, they’ll take the
hint and just leave us to it.’

I
wondered where these naval people had come from and whether they were in some
way connected to the frigate from the blockade. It was possible these were the
survivors we’d seen escaping in the ribs, but they could just have easily come
from somewhere else entirely.

Mitch
interrupted these thoughts. ‘So how did you end up here?’

I gave
her the potted account of what had happened to us: how we got out of Glasgow, of
seeing it being bombed; about the outbreak in the holding area; about the storm;
the incident at the fish farm; what had happened in Port Ellen; and at the
whirlpool.

‘Sounds like you’ve had it rough.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe they
bombed the city; they kept that out of the news.’ She rubbed her hand across her
forehead. ‘I guess they didn’t want everyone to panic.’

‘Yeah,
right!’ Claire joined the conversation. ‘More likely they wanted to cover up how
much they screwed up their attempts to contain the outbreak.’ Claire snorted
derisively. ‘All they did was make it a hell of a lot worse!’

‘Sorry, I should introduce you.’ I turned to the others.  ‘This is Michaela
McDonald, better known as Mitch.’ I turned to Mitch and pointed to my right.
‘This is Claire: our resident doctor, cynic and anti-militarist.’

Not
appreciating my description, Claire scowled at me before turning to Mitch and
holding out her hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

While
Claire’s greeting was outwardly friendly, I detected a hint of reticence. I
wondered if she was still concerned about mixing with strangers, and what that
might mean for her survival, and more importantly, that of her daughter.

I
carried on with the introductions. ‘This is Sophie, Claire’s daughter; Daz,
someone we picked up along the way; and finally, Tom.’

‘Tom?’
Mitch eyed him carefully. ‘As in the guy you used to work with when you were a
juggler?’

‘The
one and only!’ Tom grinned at her. ‘So what’s he been saying about me? You know
he lies, don’t you?’

Mitch
shook the hand he held out. ‘If even half of what Ben’s told me about you is
true ...’ She smiled, looking him up and down as she did so. ‘Well, let’s just
say I’ll need to keep an eye on you.’

Daz
and Sophie looked enquiringly at each other and then at Tom. So far, they’d only
seen Tom on the boat, where he was out of his depth. This new information got
them wondering about what he’d been like before the outbreak started.

For
the next hour, we sat in the cockpit and chatted, trying to talk about anything
other than the fact that the world had fallen apart. Tom was getting on with the
new arrival like a house on fire, and they spent much of the time exchanging
stories about me: Tom telling her about some of the things I’d got up to in my
days as a performer; Mitch telling him about drunken nights out in various
remote island bars. Both left me feeling rather embarrassed, but it was the
first time that I’d seen Tom like this with a woman in a very long time, not
since Jane, so I couldn’t help but be happy for him.

Finally, reality reasserted itself and the first moment of normality we’d had
since the start of the outbreak came to its inevitable end. Mitch glanced at her
watch and stood up. ‘I guess I need to be heading back: the others will be
wondering what’s happened to me. Where’re you guys heading?’

‘We
haven’t really decided yet.’ I leaned back and put my hands behind my head. ‘We
were just scouting around to see if we could find any other survivors.’

‘Why
don’t you come on up to Tobermory? There’ll be a few faces you’ll recognise
there and they’ve got a pretty good set-up.’

Tom’s
face lit up. ‘That seems like a good idea.’

‘We
should make our decisions based on something beyond your hormones,’ Claire
muttered.

Tom
shrugged his shoulders. ‘If there are other people there and they’ve got an area
that they’ve managed to keep secure and free of the infected, they’re doing
better than the army. We’d have a much better chance of surviving with people
like that around than we would on our own.’ Tom’s tone was matter of fact. ‘I
imagine they’ll also have better resources than we have, and access to things we
don’t: like food, drinking water, weapons, medicines; stuff we’re going to
need.’