Текст книги "Noah's Ark: Survivors"

Автор книги: Harry Dayle

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Thirty-Seven

“WHAT DO YOU mean dangerous? What is happening over there?” Lucya was trying not to panic, not very successfully.

“I don’t know, and it’s not important right now. We need to get them back over here. What other transport do we have?” Max asked.

“All the lifeboats burned. The other tender has been broken up for spares. That just leaves the rafts. We’ll have to send someone over in a raft.” She paced back and forth, thinking hard, then picked up the phone and dialled.

“Engineering?”

“Martin?”

“Yes. Lucya?”

“We have an emergency. The tender sunk and there’s something going on over there, something dangerous. We have to get them back, fast. I’m going to launch a life raft. Dave will take it over and bring them back.”

“I will?” This was news to Dave, and he wasn’t very happy about it. “I’m a navigator, not a raft…driver!”

“Fine, then find me a sailor who can go instead. But you’d better hurry because as soon as that raft hits the water someone is going, and it could just as easily be you. Go!”

Dave rushed off to find someone better suited to the mission than he was.

“Sorry Martin, anyway, so how do we propel the raft? Those things don’t have motors.”

“There are spare oars in the stores. I can send someone up with them.”

“No! No, I’ll come and get them. Thanks.”

She hung up.

“Pedro. Listen, you need to try and take us in closer. It will take too long for them to row over. The closer we can get the better.”

“This is very risky. There are bits of concrete pier in that water,” Pedro said carefully.

“I know. So don’t hit them. Melvin, time you earned your keep around here. You need to stand there.” she pointed to the far end of the bridge, with windows that extended beyond the beam of the ship. “You’re on lookout. If you see anything in the water, shout at Pedro.”

She turned to leave, but Max called after her.

“Lucya! I don’t know what’s going on over there but it doesn’t sound good. Reeve said the environment was hostile. He’s a good guy, wouldn’t exaggerate. If there’s a danger to this ship then we need to be prepared.”

“Agreed.”

“By which,” Max could see she hadn’t got the point, “I mean armed.”

“I see. I think that’s really a decision for the captain to make.”

“The captain isn’t here. He’s in the hostile environment. Maybe he can’t make a decision. He left you in charge, you need to make the call.” Max looked over to the secure weapons cabinet.

“Fine, yes, you are right. Do what you have to do.”

Lucya raced out of the bridge, down the corridor, and down ten flights of stairs to deck one, cursing the decision not to switch on the elevators with every flight. She wound her way through the labyrinth of passageways on the deepest level, until she found the store room. Once inside, the oars were easy to find, they were stacked on a top shelf, above the grey crates. She looked at them, then bent down under the table and looked at her special buoys. She picked one out, grabbed two oars and left for deck seven.

• • • • •

Martin Oakley was fuming One minute he was having a perfectly normal conversation with one of his engineers, and the next he couldn’t hear himself think as the engine he was stood next to started to rev up.

“What the….? What’s going on?” He threw his hands in the air, looked to his colleague for an answer, and realised one would not be forthcoming. “We’ve dropped the anchors for goodness sake, we’re not supposed to be moving anywhere. What are they playing at up there?”

“Actually according to the computer, the anchors were pulled up two minutes ago.”

“Who ordered that? Lucya said she was leaving the bridge to go down to the stores. Right, that’s it. They can’t just move off without telling us first.”

Martin picked up the phone and dialled the bridge. He let it ring for a good minute, but nobody answered. Even though he was below the waterline and there were no windows, he could feel the ship moving slowly, although he couldn’t be sure about the direction.

He slammed the phone down, angry that nobody would pick up on the other side. After pacing up and down muttering to himself, he picked it up again and started to dial another number.

“Maybe Silvia knows what’s going on here, she…”

He didn’t complete the sentence because there was an ear splitting crunching sound, the ship shuddered, and he was thrown from his feet. The telephone handset fell to the floor where it cracked in two. Martin’s colleague was toppled off balance, but caught the edge of a console and steadied himself. The ship had come to rest. The engine revs died down, and it was then that Martin became aware of another noise. He knew that sound, he had heard it once before, but only once. That was the sound of water pouring through a hole in the hull.

• • • • •

“You know how to handle one of these?” Max asked.

“Of course. I told you, I was a solider. Once a solider, always a soldier.”

Flynn took the gun. Holding the cold metal barrel upright in both hands, he looked it up and down, then held it to his left eye, checking the sight.

“I do not expect any weapons to be discharged on this ship, you hear me? This security team is here to keep the peace, not to terrorise. This is a deterrent. A last resort.”

“I understand sir.” Flynn pushed the strap of the weapon over his shoulder. “A last resort.”

“Glad that’s clear. Now, back on patrol.”

Max left for the bridge to pick up more weapons. He needed to arm the rest of his security team.

• • • • •

Lucya arrived at deck seven at the same time as Dave. He was accompanied by a young looking sailor. Lucya stopped and stared at him for several seconds, she couldn’t believe he was old enough to be working.

“This is Chuck, he’s going to take the raft across,” Dave said.

“Chuck? Really? There are actually people called Chuck?”

Chuck turned scarlet. “Ma’am,” he said simply.

“Right, Chuck. Tell me, once we open one of these capsules, the thing flies off, inflates, and lands in the water, right?”

“That is correct ma’am.”

“Okay, so two things Chuck. One, my name is Lucya, forger the ma’am thing, right?”

He nodded.

“The second thing is, once the raft hits the water, how do we get it back here so you can get in?”

The two men considered the question. They were standing outside next to a metal framed construction on which nine large white capsules, like giant pills, were tied down. The frame was angled in such a way that when a capsule was untied it would roll down and into the sea.

“Maybe I’m missing something,“ Dave said, “but can’t he just use the escape slide?”

“No. We’re not deploying that for one person. It’s single use, what happens in a real emergency when the slide has gone?”

“See? I knew I was missing something.”

At that moment there was a huge crunch, the sound of metal being ripped, then a groaning sound from below. The ship came to a sudden, jarring halt. Lucya, Dave and Chuck were thrown against the side railings. All three exclaimed in surprise and pain.”

“Jesus! What the hell?!” Dave looked around, confused.

“I think we hit part of that pier. Fuck! Jake is going to kill me.” Lucya, rubbed her side where it had connected with the handrail. “You, get down there.” She pointed to the sea. “Take the steps for the tender. I’m launching this thing and you’re going to have to swim for it. I have to get back to the bridge.”

The sailor looked at her as if he must have misheard.

“Now!” she screamed at him.

He nodded, and ran back inside for the stairs. Lucya reached under the first fibreglass capsule, wrapped her hand around the release buckle, and pulled hard. The strap holding it to the metal frame snapped in two. The capsule rolled slowly to the end of the metal ramp, out over the handrail, over the water, and fell. As it did so it split open. There was a whoosh of compressed air being released, and a mass of black and red material pushed its way out, separating the two sides of the capsule. Within seconds it had inflated to form a giant raft. It popped into its final shape just as it hit the water with a slap. Fully inflated, the raft looked like it could never have fitted into the capsule. It was made to hold up to thirty passengers. Rectangular in shape, and slightly tapered at the front and back, the outer edge was made of sausage like air chambers. Three more chambers within the raft provided seating. A bright orange hood that could be deployed to provide shelter from the elements was rolled up on one side, out of the way of anyone in the water trying to clamber aboard. Lucya watched the raft hit the water, threw her pink buoy after it, and jettisoned the oars over the railings. Before they had splashed into the sea, she had already turned around and run back inside in the direction of the bridge.

Thirty-Eight

SOMETHING WAS WRONG with Dante. At first it was hard to see exactly what, but as he approached it became clearer. He had no hands. His arms splashed in and out of the sea, but without palms and fingers to pull against the water, he was limited in his ability to generate propulsion.

Reeve took a step back then ran two steps forward and jumped off the end of the pier and onto the side of the upturned tender. As he landed his feet slipped beneath him and he fell onto his read end, slid towards the now vertical roof. With a grunt he rolled over onto his front and grabbed at the window frames, arresting his slide just as his feet and legs disappeared over the side. He hauled himself back up, got to his hands and knees, and proceeded to crawl to the rear of the craft.

Dante was approaching, slowly. Reeve called to him. He seemed to hear, changed direction slightly, and with a few more strokes reached the back of the boat. The security man reached out and grabbed the end of his right arm, pulled hard. The boat was low in the water, only half a metre or so was exposed, so it wasn’t too difficult to pull Dante out and onto the side, and relative safety. He lay on his back, panting, coughing.

“Dante, what happened? What the hell happened to your hands?”

“The ash…” he was still out of breath, struggling to get the words out. “It was the ash…”

Everyone stared at the stumps at the ends of Dante’s arms. Blackened, fused by the burning ash.

The awkward silence was broken by the sound of tearing metal echoing across the fjord.

• • • • •

Martin charged from one end of the engine room to the other, through the open door and into a passageway. A quick left turn and through two vast chambers. Both housed gigantic tanks, each bigger than the sixty person tender that was, unbeknownst to him, now laying wrecked in the fjord. As he ran, the sound of gushing water grew ever louder. By the third chamber, he was running through sea water. The noise was now deafening. It was coming from the fourth chamber ahead, a chamber that was filling rapidly with water, spilling over the threshold of the bulkhead. When he reached it, he tried to push the heavy metal door shut. But the water was rising, pushing the door back our towards him.

“Richard! Where are you? Get your arse down here now!”

He could hear the sound of his colleagues steps running towards him. Then the clicking of boots on the metal floor turned to the sound of feet splashing through water, and suddenly Richard was there, pushing the door with him. Martin turned and pushed with his back. It was as big as the side of a bus shelter, and thick steel. On its well oiled and balanced hinges it was normally simple enough to swing shut, but the pressure of the water coming through made the task almost impossible. The two men heaved with all their might, feet slipping and sliding in the sea water. With an almost herculean effort, the edge of the door finally reached the frame. Martin’s foot hit on something under the water. A ring in the floor, used to tie down equipment when the going got rough. He dug his heel against it and pushed with all his weight. The extra purchase was just enough, and the door thudded into place.

“Lock it!” Martin couldn’t hold the force of the water much longer.

Richard took his hands off the door and spun the wheel mounted in the middle. Almost immediately, Martin felt the pressure release from his back as the locking bolts moved into place. He dropped forwards, his hands on his knees, head hung low, panting.

“We did it!” Richard exclaimed. “Hey, it’s okay, we got it closed, we’re safe.”

“No,” Martin said.

“No really, we’ll be fine!” Richard tried to reassure him. “That bulkhead is designed to withstand the chamber being completely flooded. We can pump out these others and we’ll be okay. We might need to pump some ballast into the tanks to balance us up a bit.”

“No. Shit, no, not that.” Martin was staring at the water.

Richard looked down. He understood the problem. It wasn’t just water they were standing in. There was diesel fuel mixed in with it too.

• • • • •

Chuck ripped off his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and leapt into the water. The icy cold nearly stopped his heart, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He swam as fast as he could in the direction of the raft. Fortunately it hadn’t fallen far from the ship, and there was no current to speak of, so it hadn’t moved far. Within a minute of hitting the sea he swam right into one of the oars. Stopping to tread water, he picked it up and threw it as hard as he could manage in the direction of the raft. He swam on, stopping twice more to throw the oar further, before finally it landed inside the inflatable. Shortly afterwards he arrived there himself. Using the orange rope tied around the outside to pull himself up, he rolled into the emergency vessel. He got to his knees and looked around for the second oar. It had floated off towards the shore. Positioning himself at the front of the raft he began to paddle. A stroke to the left, pull the paddle out of the water, then a stroke to the right. It wasn’t quick, but he was going in the right direction. When he reached the second oar he retrieved it and set it down beside him. The raft was too wide for one person to row conventionally, but the oar would be useful when he had help coming back.

• • • • •

“What just happened?” Jake was desperately trying to see where the noise had come from, but the ship was too far out to see clearly. From his position on the shore everything looked fine. “Get Max on the radio, find out what’s going on!”

Reeve put his hand in his inside pocket. His expression changed. He pulled out an empty hand, tried the other pocket. “Shit.”

“Where’s the radio, Reeve?” Jake already knew the answer.

“It must have fallen out when I slipped. Damn it!”

“Well, there’s not much we can do about that, so I guess we’ll find out what’s happened when we get back over there.” Jake was starting to feel a certain sense of detachment. This landing expedition had turned into a disaster. If he didn’t know what had just happened on the ship, well at least it was one less thing to worry about. For now.

Dante had got his breath back. He and Reeve were perched on top of the tender. Jake and Kiera were sitting opposite on the very edge of the broken pier, as far away from the deadly ash as they could.

“I hadn’t got far, but I wasn’t sure I was going the right way. On the map we looked at, there was a road from here to the airport. I couldn’t tell if I was on the road or just some rock, it was all covered in the ash. So I was kicking the ash with my feet, trying to see what was underneath, you know, like you do in the snow sometimes? And I saw something shiny, where I’d cleared a bit with my foot. So I crouched down to get a better look. I started pushing the ash away to the sides with my hands. And then,” he raised the stubs of his forearms in the air, looked at them like he still couldn’t quite believe it.

“How did you stop it going any further?” Jake asked. “With Horace and Stacey it…well, you know.”

“I ran to the sea and shoved my hands in. I thought they were burning, it felt like they were on fire. I just wanted them to stop burning! And when they hit the water they just…they just kind of disintegrated.”

“Jesus,” Reeve said, shaking his head.

Kiera wore an expression of deep sympathy, but didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Jake said. “This is my fault. We should never have brought so many people over here. We should have taken it slower.”

“No,” Dante said. “This is nobody’s fault.”

“Look!” Kiera was pointing out towards the fjord.

Reeve and Dante turned their heads. Paddling over the water was a black and red inflatable life raft.

• • • • •

“The fuel take ruptured?” Richard had’t moved, he remained rooted to the spot.

“Impossible. It’s too far from the hull. Whatever we hit couldn’t have pierced that deeply.” Martin shook his head.

“But that’s oil, diesel oil. Floating on the water.”

“Yes. But it can’t be. Unless…oh shit!”

Martin flew forwards, trying to run around the massive tank in the chamber. But his legs had to fight against the water, slowing him down. Richard watched as the chief engineer appeared to advance in slow motion. On the other side of the tank was a thick white pipe that ran the length of the chamber. It passed through the walls at each end, and at half a meter from both walls, a red wheel protruded from the pipe. Martin spun the wheel nearest the flooded chamber.

“Of course,” Richard said looking on. “The fuel line. It didn’t puncture the tank, it broke the fuel line.”

“That’s shut off the line,” Martin said panting from the effort. “That’ll stop any fuel from tank three leaking out.”

“You realise, of course you do, that it means we lose access to tank five?”

“I know. But it’s going to leak out of the broken line too. One and two are already empty. We’ve just lost the use of two thirds of our remaining fuel supply.”

• • • • •

It took a considerable time for the raft to reach the pier. For one thing, paddling from the front with a single oar was slow work. For another, Chuck had to try and steer round the giant lumps of concrete protruding from the water, and the even more dangerous ones hidden just beneath the surface. When he did eventually reach the upturned tender, Dante had lost consciousness. The pain and the cold had been too much.

“I’m going to lower him down, grab his legs,” Reeve called to Chuck. He had his hands under the unconscious man’s arms and was dragging him nearer the raft. He pulled him round so that his legs hung over the side facing the Spirit of Arcadia. Chuck grabbed the Dante’s ankles and pulled them into the raft as Reeve lowered him down.

“One down. Now you two,” Reeve said looking over at Jake and Kiera. “Woah!”

All the movement had unbalanced the capsized boat. They had assumed it had come to a rest on the sea bed, but in fact the water was much deeper. The underwater side of the tender was actually stuck on a pointed piece of concrete below the surface. The shifting weight of Reeve and Dante had caused the tender to tilt towards its back. With a creak, it upended, launching Reeve headfirst into the fjord. He disappeared from view, then popped out of the water a few metres away, spitting and coughing. He was just in time to see the remainder of the boat disappear with a glugging sound and a muddle of air bubbles. Chuck was already paddling towards Reeve, who reached out for the rope and pulled himself onto the raft. He understood why Dante had lost consciousness; the cold water had sucked the feeling from his hands and feet. Dante had the added problems of blood loss and shock to deal with. Passing out was probably he best he could have done under the circumstances.

With the tender gone, it was actually easier for Chuck to get up close to the pier. Jake and Kiera lowered themselves into it with relative ease.

“Okay Reeve, ready to help me row?” Chuck said, holding out a plastic oar.

Thirty-Nine

THE LIFE RAFT made quick time back to the ship, aided by Reeve. Max was waiting at the bottom of the steps, along with one of his new recruits. Jake noted with dismay that they were both bearing arms.

Chuck jumped onto the platform with a rope and secured them. Dante was helped off first, and the others followed.

“Come with me, I’ll take you down to medical. Grau is going to need to look at this,” Kiera said, and disappeared off with Dante.

“Reeve, what’s the situation? Any immediate danger to the ship?” Max asked.

“No sir. I believe we are safe here. But the environment on land is extremely dangerous.” He outlined what had happened with the ash, and the fate of Stacey and Horace. Max was clearly shaken, but he was a professional and hardly let it show.

“Max, you should get back to patrolling, keep an eye out.” Jake said, scrambling to the platform. “Who knows who saw what, or what rumours are going to spread. Things could turn nasty. We’ll talk about the guns later.”

“I sought authorisation, Captain” Max said defensively.

“I’m sure you did. Like I said, we’ll talk about it later. Can I borrow Reeve for a bit?”

Max nodded. He turned and headed off, one hand on the rifle slung over his shoulder.

“What do you want me to do with the raft Captain?” Chuck asked.

“Leave it tied up for now. We might need it.” Jake couldn’t immediately think of any reason why that should be, but he thought it best to keep his options open. “Reeve, I think you’d better come to the bridge with me.” He turned to Chuck. “Thank you sailor, you did a good job there.”

Reeve and Jake started on the long walk up the stairs towards deck ten.

• • • • •

“Where’s Stacey?” Melvin asked, as soon as Jake had shut the door to the bridge behind Reeve.

“Jake! How are you? What happened? Are you okay? Max said it was dangerous!” Lucya threw her arms around him, then remembered his rank and the fact there were others present, and stepped back.

“I’m fine. What happened to the ship? We heard a sound, like…” Jake wasn’t sure what it was like.

“I asked you where Stacey is?”

“Lucya?” Jake said, ignoring Melvin.

“I screwed up, that’s what happened.” She looked away, embarrassed. “I ordered Pedro to take us in closer. I thought the raft would get to you quicker. But we must have hit one of those submerged bits of concrete pier. Shit, I’m sorry Jake, it was my fault, I take full responsibility.”

“Do we know the extent of the damage?”

“Martin is on his way up here. He said it’s pretty bad, but under control.”

“Captain Noah, are you going to tell me where Stacey is?” Melvin stepped between Jake and Lucya, making himself impossible to ignore any longer.

“Melvin, you should…perhaps you should sit down,” Jake sighed.

“Why? What’s happened?”

“There was an accident. Well, not so much an accident. It’s more that we didn’t know about the ash. But Stacey went off without the rest of us, she should have waited and…”

“What are you saying man? Pull yourself together and give me a coherent explanation. Where is Stacey?”

“She’s dead Melvin, okay? She’s dead!” Jake shouted. “And so is Horace. He tried to save her, and now he’s dead too.”

“Oh my God!” Lucya’s hand flew to cover her open mouth.

“You absolute…!” Melvin flew forwards, wrapping his hands around Jake’s neck and squeezing. “I’ll kill you! You bastard, do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”

“No! Stop! Get off him!” Lucya screamed, looked around, panicked. “Somebody stop him!”

But Reeve was already there, pulling Melvin away from Jake’s neck. The instant the two men were separated Melvin’s hand curled into a fist and powered into Reeve’s belly. The two men were of a similar size, but Reeve was fitter and stronger. He was winded, but far from beaten. He locked a powerful hand around Melvin’s wrist, twisted it up and around behind him. With his free hand he pushed on his shoulder, sending him to his knees. Jake was staggering backwards, still clutching at his throat. Lucya ran to him once more, but he backed away from her, trying to shake his head.

Someone hammered on the door. Nobody moved. Reeve had Melvin pinned to the floor, Jake was still recovering, Pedro and Dave were looking on in stunned silence, and Lucya seemed to be in shock. More banging, and the sound of someone shouting snapped her out of it. She undid the security bolt and let Martin in. His face was thunder. Seeing Melvin on the floor didn’t seem to worry him in the slightest.

“You’ve really done it now Jakey boy. Oh you have gone and royally screwed us. Leaving her in charge,” he almost spat the words out, “while you fuck off on your jolly. One incompetent leaves another to run the show. And oh, what a performance she puts on. Crashing, Jake. Crashing the ship and rupturing the hull.”

“Oh Jesus,” Lucya whispered.

“I don’t think Jesus is around love. Or if he was, he would have obliterated our sorry arses with that asteroid, because that would have been kinder. Now we’re doomed to die on this boat because, and get this because it’s great, it’s abso-fucking-lutely marvellous, she not only ruptured the hull, but she took out the fuel line. Oh yes, you heard me right. Fuel tank four is, right now, spurting its contents into the fjord. The fjord is returning the favour by filling the tank room with water.”

Having got his rant out, Martin deflated somewhat. He found a chair and collapsed into it, covering his face with his hands.

“If I understand you correctly, we’ve lost one fifth of our fuel?” Jake croaked, recovering slowly. “We have five tanks on board, no?”

Melvin had stopped struggling and was now listening intently to the engineer.

“No Jake. No, we didn’t lose one fifth. Two tanks were empty. Two are now leaking out through the broken pipe. We have one tank left. The tank we’ve been running on the last two days. Our fuel is at less than twenty percent.”

• • • • •

In a dark corner of the casino, a group of passengers were talking in hushed voices.

“What’s happening? What did they find over there?”

“I heard that the asteroid turned everyone into zombies, that they ran into a load of Norwegians who had become the walking dead.”

“That’s stupid. But they definitely found something bad. The security men were running round in a panic. And we saw them come back in a life raft. What happened to their boat?”

“My wife said a security guard told her the land was toxic, that it makes your skin melt.”

“That’s as stupid as the zombie thing!”

“Well whatever happened, I don’t reckon we’ll be getting off any time soon.”

“If you ask me, it’s time for that election.”

“What election?”

“Apparently the captain promised an election if it turned out there are no other survivors.”

“I reckon I should stand.”

“That Melvin guy is going to stand. He sounds amazing, he led a mutiny and got them to let him stay on the bridge. He’s looking out for all of us, because otherwise they want to control us.”

“Yeah, enslave us.”

“We have to vote for Melvin. Pass the word on.”

On every deck, the same whispered conversations were taking place.

• • • • •

“If he let’s you go, are you going to behave?” Jake asked Melvin.

“I ought to kill you.”

“I take it that’s a no then. Reeve, you’re going to have to tie him up.”

“No! Wait. Think about Tania Bloom. If you tie me up then the others will know. When I don’t make contact, they’ll kill her. Do you want more blood on your hands today Captain?”

Jake groaned. He knew his hands were tied, therefore Melvin’s never could be.

“Okay, let him go. But if he tries anything, we’re rounding up all his cronies and searching this ship top to bottom for Tania.”

“You’ll never find her,” Melvin said, getting to his feet as Reeve released his grip. “You couldn’t find her during the census, you won’t find her now. We’re not dumb.”

Melvin walked towards the door.

“Where are you going now?” Jake asked.

“To check in with my friends. And to find someone to take over the second watch. You might have killed Stacey, but we’re going to damn well make sure we keep a presence up here.”

He pulled the door open and stormed out.

“Reeve, follow him, I don’t trust him.”

“Sure thing, Captain.”

Jake staggered over to the captain’s chair and slumped down. Lucya followed.

“You guys should go and get some rest,” she said to Pedro and Dave.

“I don’t mind staying,” Dave said. “I was scanning the radio’s, you never know.”

“No it’s fine, I can do that. You go on, take the opportunity to catch up on some sleep.”

Dave nodded. Pedro followed him off the bridge, leaving Jake, Lucya and Martin alone.

“What do we do now?” Jake said. “I mean, I really thought, hoped, there would be something or someone. That it wasn’t as bad as on the television. But it’s all gone Lucya. All of it. There’s nothing, just ash. Toxic ash.”

“We don’t give up!” Lucya sounded defiant. “So there’s nothing here, it doesn’t mean that it is the same everywhere. We go further south. Norway. Scotland. We keep going until we find somewhere that escaped, like we escaped.”

“No,” Martin said. He walked over to join them. “You saw that broadcast. That asteroid destroyed everything. We escaped because we were so far north. The further south we go, the worse it will be.”

“What about the south pole?” Lucya wasn’t about to give up. “We escaped at the north pole, maybe the south pole did too?”

“Lucya, there’s nothing at the south pole. It’s ice, snow. It’s the harshest conditions on the planet. Even if it wasn’t touched, what do you think is there for us?”

“I don’t know! But surely it’s worth a try?”

“We don’t have the fuel. We have maybe enough to reach Scotland, if we turn off the generator and one engine, just run the other engine. And then what? When we arrive there and find exactly the same thing as here? Then we’ll have no fuel left, no power.”

“We can’t just stay here!” Lucya was starting to panic.

“Lucya, we have no choice,” Jake said. “That asteroid has killed us like it killed everyone else in the world. It’s just that it’s going to take longer for us to die. We thought we were lucky, that we’d escaped. But they were the lucky ones. The people who never saw it coming. The people who were wiped out in the blink of an eye. Most of them probably never knew what hit them. Even those who did, they only had a few hours warning. Time to panic a little, to pray a little, to say goodbye to those they loved.” An image of Jane blinked before his eyes again. “We don’t have that luxury. We’re going to die slowly. Painfully. Of cold, of dehydration, of starvation.”