Noah's Ark: Survivors (2 page)

The report was showing hastily cut together video clips. It did indeed look like an earthquake, but it was as if the tape had been sped up. A deafening boom, dust and debris shooting into the air, and buildings apparently exploding or simply crumbling like sandcastles in the wind.

“And then came the dust. A minute after the asteroid passed, maybe two, the dust started to rain down. Thick, black, and molten. Even now, as the end approaches, we cannot, will not, show the images.”
The screen faded to black, but the sound continued. The screams. Gut-wrenching, bloodcurdling, terrible screams.

“Anyone who made it out of the buildings alive was surely fatally burnt, or smothered by the dust cloud.”

The screen faded again, this time to a computer-generated graphic showing the Earth rotating serenely against a white backdrop. A black circle scanned across Australia, trailing a wide grey tail behind it.

“Data from NASA’s satellites shows the asteroid as it began its orbit around our planet. Thirty-three minutes to complete a circuit, the time increasing slightly with every pass as it spirals upwards, approaching the equator, cleansing the Earth of life with every turn.”

The dot on the graphic wound around and upwards, as if painting the globe black. The grey tail was so wide that each circuit covered a band thousands of kilometres across. The clock on the graphic indicated that in a little over four hours, half of the world had been destroyed. Scorched from existence. Somebody in the stalls tried, and failed, to stifle a sob.

“Then, the riots began. As news spread and as the asteroid approached Japan, amid widespread panic people took to the streets.”
More video montages, some from cell-phone cameras, some from professional news crews. Every time the same. Panic. Screaming. An earth-shattering crack as blackness streaked overhead, and then the pictures faded to black amid the howling and the anguished cries of people burning, suffocating, dying. Jake’s stomach turned; his mind could hardly grasp the full horror of what he was witnessing. It felt unreal, like he was watching some kind of sick disaster movie. More people had begun to cry, and someone close by him fainted, falling to a crumpled heap in a forest of legs. In front of him he heard a whispered prayer. But most remained silent, eyes glazed over, watching, listening, like Jake, unable or unwilling to believe.

As North Africa, the Middle East, central China, and then the southern states of the USA were wiped one by one from the map, the graphic faded and the screen once again showed the reporter. Her eyes were red, her hand shaking slightly.

“And so, as the asteroid heads towards the northern states, it seems our time as guardians of the Earth is at an end. Maybe someone, somewhere, will see this broadcast and will survive. Maybe the human race will find a way to live on. All efforts to destroy the asteroid, or somehow change its course, have failed. In our final hour, our true insignificance is laid bare. We hold no special place in the universe, we are fragile, and now, we are finished.”
Her voice began to crack.
“This is Emily Randolph, for CNN. May God help us. Mom, Dad, Russell, I love you….”
The screen cut to black, and silence once again filled the theatre.

Two

F
LYNN
B
AKEMAN
WAS
elated. He paced up and down the length of his cabin. It was one of the cheaper rooms on the ship, and his large, muscular frame made it appear even smaller than it already was. A television screen in the corner of the room had just faded to black.

“This is it, Eileen! The end of times has come! So long I’ve waited. And I’ll admit, once or twice I even had doubts. But the Lord told me to be patient, and He was right!”

Eileen was sitting on the bed, sobbing, head sunk low.

“What’s wrong with you? This is a momentous day! We are to bear witness to the reckoning! Armageddon is approaching. It’s happening in our lifetimes!”

“I don’t want to die, Flynn. I wanted to see the kids married. I wanted to have grandchildren. I wanted to travel, see the world. I want to live!”

“Living? Living is nothing!” he shouted at his wife without looking at her. “Living is waiting. Soon the rapture will be upon us. Soon we will all depart this mortal world and meet our true destiny. We shall kneel before our maker, and become His servants. And you want to live?” He sounded incredulous.

“Flynn, I’m sorry. But I don’t…I can’t believe the same things you believe…” Her sobs turned to wails. She was becoming hysterical.

“Sorry? You’re ‘sorry’?” He mimicked her high-pitched voice as he said it, and lashed out, catching his wife’s face with the back of his hand. A thin streak of blood wound its way down her right cheek.

“We must prepare our souls. This is no time to harbour regrets, or fear, or sorrow. You are weak, and you will suffer in eternal damnation. But not me. I will not be denied my true place at His side because of your weakness!”

He raised his hand and struck her once more, harder than before. The blow knocked her flat. She was out cold.

Three

J
AKE
WIPED
THE
corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. A thin, slimy layer of vomit clung to it. He stared out to sea. He’d always preferred the view from this position on the ship, gazing astern from the terrace on deck thirteen. Looking back, seeing where they had been, instead of the familiar view of where they were headed, the view he spent most days regarding from his position on the bridge. But the view today was different. The blue sky, so bright both day and night throughout the summer months up here near the pole, was blackening. All colour had been drained from the world. The huge icebergs, normally too dazzling to look at without sunglasses, appeared to shrink away, as if frightened by what was to come. Their sparkling sheen was gone; now they were just grey lumps floating in a black sea. The air was no longer crisp; the cold had lost its bite. The approaching molten dust cloud was already heating the atmosphere.

“Jake?”

The voice came from behind. He knew at once it was Lucya, not by her accent — she had almost entirely lost that — but from the confidence with which she spoke his name. If anyone could keep a level head in a crisis, it was Lucya. He didn’t move, just continued staring out to sea. She leant on the railing beside him, taking in the same view.

“I knew you’d be here,” she said. “I had to get away from there. It’s chaos. Panic, total panic. Some people refuse to believe it, you know. They think it’s some kind of sick joke, some kind of party trick to liven up the cruise.”

Jake turned to look at her.

“How could anyone…?” His voice trailed off. “I mean, look at it! You can almost feel it coming. In less than an hour, we’ll all be dead, Lucya.”

Neither of them knew what to say, and for a while they both stared out at the ocean and the icebergs.

“I was going to quit,” Jake said suddenly. “The ships. I was going to quit. I finally had it all figured out, finally worked out what I wanted to do with my life. No more responsibility, no more day after tedious day waiting to see land again. I was going to go to Africa.”

“Africa? I thought you came onto the ships to travel the world? What’s so special about Africa?”

“I came onto the ships because that’s what my dad wanted. That, and because I didn’t have a clue what else to do.” He turned to look at the girl by his side, his face suddenly animated. “But I get it now, I know what I want to do. Humanitarian aid work, in Africa. I want to help people, people who need it, not rich tourists who just want help finding the casino or the bar. And I thought if I did that, maybe Jane…maybe she’d come round. Anyway, this was to be my last cruise. I was going to post my resignation letter as soon as we stopped at Edinburgh. Finally I had some direction, and now…now it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Behind them, a scream. They both turned to look. A woman was yelling manically at a man. He was climbing the railings, and she was trying desperately to pull him back. Her efforts were in vain, and the man swung his legs over the handrail, turned to kiss the woman once, then leapt off. The splash as he hit the icy water below was drowned out by her hysterical cries.

“Doesn’t she realise she’s as dead as him?” Jake asked.

“People are jumping from all over the ship. I saw a dozen, maybe more, just coming up here from the theatre. I guess some would rather choose their own way out rather than lie down and take it.” Lucya turned back to look at him. “Jake, we don’t have much time. I figured, if we’re going to die here, if this really is the end, then I can’t go without telling you. I need you to know how I feel.” She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away, turned back to look out to sea, avoiding her gaze.

“Lucya, I…I’m married, you know that.”

“You’re separated. But what does that matter? I’m not asking you to marry me. I just want you to know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt. We have a connection, you and me. Something deeper than attraction. There’s something there. I only want to hear you say that you feel it too. Then I will be at peace. Then I will be ready to die.”

She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him round to face her. They stared into each other’s eyes, and all pretence was gone. Jake knew she was right: there was no use pretending, not now. He let her pull him closer to her. The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. She leaned in, and then fell back with a gasp. From somewhere out at sea, behind the ship, came a deafening cracking sound, like the sky being ripped apart by an enormous bolt of lightning. The couple turned instinctively towards the noise. A giant black disc loomed on the horizon. It appeared to emerge from the sea, growing in size as it approached them, faster than either could believe possible. Behind it, the sky disappeared into a thick grey mist.

“Oh Jesus,” Lucya said. “This is it, this is really it!” She crossed herself, and began to mutter a prayer in her own tongue, all the while watching the black monster swelling in the sky.

The ship had become silent. The cries of panic had stopped. Anyone out on deck had turned to watch the spectacle. They were joined by more as those inside came out to see what had caused the noise. Some sank to their knees in prayer. Others closed their eyes and turned their heads towards the heavens. But most just stood and stared.

“It’s going up,” Jake said.

“What?” Lucya whispered.

“Look. Look at the distance between the asteroid and the ocean. It’s getting bigger. The asteroid is going up. It’s gaining height.”

“Jake, I’m so sorry. This is the end. We are going to die here.” She looked at him with huge black eyes, sad eyes.

“No, I don’t think we are. It really is going up.”

Other people had begun to murmur and whisper around them. As the rock grew nearer, it became clear that it was indeed increasing in altitude. There was no denying it. It was no longer headed right at them. It was headed skywards.

• • •

Half an hour had gone by since the asteroid had changed course and charged off into the heavens. It was now little more than a pinprick in the distance. Hundreds of passengers and crew members had spilled out onto the decks to see for themselves. There was a palpable excitement in the air. Certain death had been averted, and although it seemed likely that the rest of the world had been destroyed, that families and loved ones back home were gone, that home itself was gone, the fact that they were alive, against all the odds, was enough right now.

Jake was one of the first to see the dust. To begin with it just appeared as a thickening of the haze already clouding the horizon. Before long though, clouds of grey were moving in towards the ship. The water around them began lapping and slapping against the hull as the wind picked up.

“Lucya, we need to get these people back inside, now!” Jake said. He pointed to the dust clouds, growing nearer by the minute.

The two of them turned and started calling to the people massed all around them.

“Get inside! Everyone back inside, now! The dust is coming, everyone needs to get in, quickly!”

But nobody listened. There was already too much noise from the assembled crowd to hear two voices in the wind.

“It’s no good,” Lucya said, holding her arms wide open. “We need to get back to the bridge, get on the PA. Come on!”

She pushed her way through the thick soup of bodies, trying desperately to make it back inside. Jake was right behind her, but they were quickly separated in the chaos as people pushed between them. Jake made it to a door, took one look back at the approaching dust, and dived for shelter. As the heavy door swung closed behind him it became instantly quieter, as if somebody had pressed a mute button somewhere.

He was in a corridor and it was entirely deserted. There wasn’t enough time to get to the bridge before the dust cloud reached them, but Jake knew the ship well. It had been his home, on and off, for the best part of five years. He could find his way round in the dark if necessary. After performing a quick route calculation in his head, he turned left and sprinted along the passage for a couple of hundred meters, turned one hundred and eighty degrees on his heel and hurtled down a wide flight of stairs. Then more running until he reached an unmarked door. He tried the handle. Locked. He swore to himself, turned to run back the way he had come, and ran straight into the shoulder of a skinny young man emerging sideways from another doorway.

“Hey! Watch where…” The man turned to look at him. “Oh, Jake. What’s the rush? I heard Armageddon was cancelled.”

“Martin! The dust…” He tried to catch his breath. “The dust is coming. We have to get people back inside or they’ll burn. Lucya’s gone to the bridge to use the PA but she’ll never get there in time. I was going to use the emergency system in the hotel manager’s office, but she’s locked it.”

“Sounds like Silvia. World’s ending, better lock up. Come with me.” Martin opened the door through which he had just come, and disappeared back through it, with Jake a step behind.

“Where does this go? I thought I knew this ship, but I never even noticed this door before,” he said.