Noah's Ark: Survivors (27 page)

“Okay,” Jake cried out, “you got my attention, you can stop.”

This only made Gunter laugh even more. He picked up the other oar and joined his colleague. Between the two of them they were able to shift a surprising amount of seawater. There was already a couple of centimetres accumulated in the bottom of the raft and Jake’s hands were submerged. He tried to evacuate it with a cupped hand, but it was useless. Quickly out of breath, he turned and collapsed onto his back, lying in the freezing water, staring at the sky.

Now that they weren’t getting a reaction, the two men stopped thrashing around with the paddles. The German sat down on the bottom step, propped his oar against the railing, and pulled his thick coat closer around himself. The other man remained where he was, watching over the raft. He dropped his oar at his feet.

An idea occurred to Jake. Still looking at the sky, he spoke to the men.

“You realise he’s going to kill you too, don’t you?”

Gunter laughed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? And I suppose you think you know him? I mean, how long have you actually known him? Three days?”

“You can learn a lot about someone in three days. We have the same ideals, we see the same future.”

“I expect Melvin thought that as well.”

“Melvin was a puppet. A means to an end. He was always going to be disposed of.”

“Which is my point,” Jake said, sitting up now. The damage to his ribcage made it painful, but he closed his mind to it, determined to get his point over. “He was always going to die, yet he trusted Flynn. Just like you trust him.”

“That’s different.”

“Why exactly?”

“Because we were in on it from the start. We knew Melvin would die.”

“And who’s to say he’s not in on it more than you?” Jake pointed to the Chinese man. “Maybe you’re the next Melvin. Maybe he knows you’re next to die.”

A look of uncertainty flashed across Gunter’s face. The other man’s expression remained inscrutable.

“Think about it.” Jake sensed he might have struck a seam of doubt. He intended to mine it as far as he could. “Flynn is planning on killing thousands. Why save twelve? Why save anyone other than the women?”

“He needs us, for the breeding.” Gunter got to his feet. “He explained it to us. One man isn’t enough, he needs a wider gene pool to build Eden.”

“But why your genes? What’s so special about you? I mean, I suppose you’re strong, but you’re not exactly the smartest man on this ship, are you? I’m pretty sure that he could find more intelligent men to breed from, fitter physical specimens. Why would he pick Laurel and Hardy when he could find some intelligent, funny and, dare I say it, attractive men to father his next generation?”

“That’s it, I’m going to kill him now,” Gunter said.

He picked up his discarded oar and lifting it above his head, striding towards the raft. The Chinese man put out an arm to stop him and shook his head once, silently.

“Taking orders from him now, are you?” Jake smiled. “I guess not all disciples are created equal? Or are you not a real disciple? Maybe he’s a true follower and you’re just a foot soldier. A pawn to be sacrificed when it suits, or jettisoned when you’re no longer of any use.”

“Let me past, Zhang.” Gunter looked at the smaller man.

Zhang shook his head once more.

“Well I think it’s clear who’s the boss around here, isn’t it?” Jake said. A tiny flame of hope ignited in his gut.

“Flynn is in charge. You don’t order me around, Zhang. Now let me past, or do I have to force you?”

Zhang stood his ground, staring at Gunter.

“Fuck, Zhang!” Gunter was losing his temper fast. “It’s true what he said, isn’t it? Are you using me? I swear, if you are using me, I will kill you.”

Still Zhang said nothing. His arm remained outstretched, a barrier between the German and the raft.

Gunter’s face exploded into a ball of rage. He swung back the oar with both hands, like a golf club, then heaved it forwards with all his strength. The height difference between the two men meant that the paddle of the oar was on a trajectory to meet directly with Zhang’s neck. Jake watched as it twisted in the air, turning sideways on. With the force with which it was swung, the speed with which it travelled through the air, it was sure to decapitate the diminutive disciple.

Except that he ducked. At the critical moment, Zhang’s legs folded beneath him and he lost half a metre in height in a matter of milliseconds. With nothing to arrest its momentum, the oar kept on swinging, taking Gunter’s hands with it. As soon as it cleared the airspace above Zhang, he bounced back to his feet. In his hands was his own previously discarded oar. He held it in front of him, between the legs of the German, and it rose with him until it met resistance. It connected with Gunter’s crotch with such force that it broke cleanly in two. The paddle clattered onto the platform.

Now it was Gunter’s turn to drop. His hands flew open, releasing his oar, which flew into the fjord. He fell to his knees, clutching his groin and bellowing something in German. By the time the blond man’s knees hit the deck, Zhang had brought the half of the oar still in his hands back, ready for another strike. He swung it forwards like a baseball bat. Jake heard a terrible crack as the shaft connected with Gunter’s throat. It crushed his windpipe and sent him flying backwards, where his head smashed against the lowest of the metal steps. Spots of blood erupted from his skull, spraying the other steps with tiny red polka dots. Zhang stepped over the broken paddle of the oar and with one foot rolled the limp and broken body of the German off the platform and into the fjord. The bow thruster was still turning at full pelt, and the churning water spun the corpse around several times before sending it off towards the shoreline.

Jake sank back into the raft, dumbstruck. Any hope of trying to overpower the man, or to reason with him, was dashed. He watched Zhang calmly untie the rope that held the little raft captive, throw it into the inflatable, and with the same foot he had used to dispatch his former colleague, push it away from the ship.

Fifty-Seven

L
UCYA
FELT
HER
way back to the boarded-up window. Having seen the room illuminated by the light from the next room, she had a much better idea of the layout. This time there was no crashing into furniture and she located her target with ease. She ran her fingers around the frame, looking for a break in the tape that held in place whatever had been use to board it up. She touched upon a serrated edge and began to peel it back. The tape was well stuck down. It felt like a super sticky plumber’s tape, capable of sealing leaks in high-pressure pipes. Using her long and well-manicured nails, she scraped back the edge, millimetre by millimetre. Once she had successfully removed enough to get a decent grip, things moved much faster. She was able to pull of strips of the tape with relative ease. She expected to see light flood in through the gap between the boarding at the window, but there was none. Instead, there was just more tape. Layer upon layer of tape.

It took nearly a quarter of an hour and four broken nails to finally reach the last layer. This time, when she pulled at the end, the scratching noise of the sticky material coming away from the frame was accompanied by a crack of daylight appearing. Spurred on by her success, she finished unpeeling all four sides. To her amazement, the boarding wasn’t screwed to the window or fixed by any other means than the tape itself. As the last stretch of it came away, so did the window covering. Light flooded into the room, temporarily blinding her.

When her eyes recovered she found that the board she had removed was in fact a piece of wood, roughly cut from a wardrobe door. She turned her attention to the window itself. It was small, but not so much that it wouldn’t be possible to climb through it. The only problem with that idea was that the window didn’t open; it was the kind that was fixed into a riveted frame. It was also double glazed, making it very strong. The block of wood that had previously been covering it would perhaps make a useful tool for breaking through, but Lucya could see that it would require repeated strikes to fracture the glass. Every strike would be a risk, and the noise would be sure to draw the attention of Tania and anyone else who might now be in the next room.

A new idea occurred to her. She picked up the piece of the wardrobe door and gauged its weight, balancing it in her hands, turning it from end to end, evaluating its strength. Once confident it could withstand a reasonable amount of punishment, she set it down on the bed and took a proper look around the cabin for the first time. It was a standard bedroom. A small double bed opposite the window, modern cabinets to each side, wardrobes along one side wall, a couple of chests of drawers on the other side, by the door to the sitting room. Between the wardrobes was a narrow door that provided access to a tiny shower room. Peering inside she found a small plastic shower cubicle, a toilet, and a sink with a mirrored cabinet above.

“Perfect,” she said to herself.

She closed the shower room door behind her, hoping it would block out any noise, then opened the cabinet door. It was held in place with two flimsy hinges. She knew they would break without much effort because her own cabin had exactly the same unit, and the door was forever falling off. Gripping it with both hands, she pulled sharply downwards, twisting as she did so. The door came away easily, with just a light pinging sound as the short screws holding the hinges in place popped out.

Slipping back out of the en suite, she carried the mirrored door across the bedroom and placed it on the drawer unit by the door to the sitting room. Then she pulled the duvet from the bed, doubled it over, and arranged it on the floor in front of the same door. She paused for a moment, thinking, then added the pillows from the bed to the duvet. Finally she picked up the solid board that had covered the window, and positioned herself near the door and next to the chest of drawers. After carrying out a few practice swings, she was happy that everything was ready. She brought the board up over her head, and then brought it crashing down onto the mirror with all her might. The glass shattered, sending shards and splinters flying in all directions. Most importantly though, it made an incredible noise. Anyone in the sitting room could not have failed to have heard it. It sounded for all the world like a window being broken.

Within a second of the glass shattering, she sprinted forwards, getting herself in place behind the door. She arrived just in time. The sound of the fixing being unbolted coincided with her taking up position. The door flew open and Tania came running in. She almost tripped on the folded duvet, but caught herself in time, stumbling forwards. Lucya stepped out from her hiding place, the board once again raised high above her. She hesitated, but only for a split second. The heavy chunk of wood came swooping back down, meeting the back of Tania Bloom’s head with immense force and sending the woman crashing to the ground. She landed right in the middle of the duvet and the pillows. Lucya dropped the board and fell to her knees, checked the back of the other woman’s head, trying to assess the damage.

“I’m so sorry, Tania,” she said. “But what you’re doing, it is wrong.”

Tania was out cold, but there was no blood spilt. Lucya arranged her in the recovery position. She was already immobilised, there was no need to cause her any more damage or risk anything else happening. When she was satisfied with how the woman was arranged, she collected up some of the discarded tape and used it to bind her captor’s hands behind her back. Happy she had done what she could, she backed into the sitting room, closing and bolting the door behind her.

She skipped across the room to the main door, put her ear to it, and tried to listen out for the sounds of anyone else who might be standing guard. Silence. She curled her fingers around the handle, quietly pushed it down, and pulled it towards her. No sooner was it opened a few centimetres than her eyes peered out through the crack. She could only see in one direction without opening the door wider, but it was clear the passageway was empty. She pulled the door open and slipped outside, looked left, the side that was previously blind, and let out the breath she had been holding in. There was nobody to be seen.

There were three main staircases that ran between all the accommodation decks. One fore, one aft, and one in the middle. Lucya checked the cabin number. She was nearest the aft, which suited her fine, as her first thought of a destination was the engine room, which was located at the rear of the ship. It meant descending a long way, which increased the risk of getting caught, but there really wasn’t anywhere else to go. The bridge was off limits, and she had no idea where any of the rest of the crew might be. At least in the engine room there was a good chance of finding Martin, and refuge. She turned left, and stopped in her tracks. The door of the opposite cabin had just opened.

“Well hello there, young lady. I must admit I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Lucya’s heart almost exploded in her ears. She tried desperately to keep calm. There was no need to panic, she told herself. Just a passenger making conversation.

The man in the doorway clicked his fingers. Immediately two other men appeared behind him. The three stepped out of the cabin. The first man was well built, strong looking. The other two were even heftier.

“I was just on my way to come and introduce myself,” the first man said. “My name is Flynn. I am the captain now. I’ve just been talking to your boyfriend, Lucya, the ex-captain.”

“Jake? Where is Jake? What have you done with him?”

“Well, you know, he killed a few people, so we had to get rid of him.”

“You’re lying! Jake would never kill anyone or harm anyone. Where is he?”

“I told you, he killed two men. I was lenient, probably too much so. He has left the premises.”

Lucya tried to charge forwards, to do physical harm to Flynn. But his men had anticipated the move and grabbed her before she got too close. They held her in a vice-like grip.