‘So what have you heard?’ asked Jane. ‘All we have is the television.’
‘Dave, my first mate. He saw it for real in Roscoff a month ago. He was sitting in a cafe eating lunch. Noon. Not much happening. Suddenly people ran in, yelling for the police. There was a woman in the street trying to bite everyone like a rabid dog. She was bleeding.’
‘Bleeding?’
‘That’s what he said. Some soldiers shot her dead. Then they shot everyone she had bitten. They made a big pile and burned the bodies.’
‘Oh, my God.’
‘Sorry to break it to you folks, but no one is coming to your rescue any time soon. You might have to find your own way home.’
‘Christ.’
‘Have you picked your men yet?’
‘We’re working on it.’
‘I could do with some food for the trip, and any diesel you can spare.’
‘We’ll sort you out.’
‘I’m going back to the boat,’ said the captain. ‘The weather is turning. Wind is getting high. Could be force ten when it hits. I’d like to be gone in thirty minutes.’
The captain left.
‘Do you have any names for me?’ asked Rawlins.
Jane gestured to the board. ‘Two names for certain. Bunch more possible.’
Rawlins scanned the list.
‘It’s an easy choice,’ he said. ‘You two. Sorry, ladies, but I need skills. You’re both surplus to requirements.’
The fuel store. A wide chamber. Punch switched on the lights. He led the captain between racks of fuel cans, oil drums and propane tanks. The captain loaded jerry cans on to a pallet truck. Punch struggled to help.
‘So you need food?’
‘We’re both starved,’ said the captain. ‘We ate our last tin of beans days ago. We didn’t expect to be at sea this long. We need enough food for two, three weeks. Not much. I don’t want to clean you out. Just enough each day to keep us going until we get back to Britain.’
‘I’ll fill a box. Tins and stuff. How about fresh water?’
‘Can you spare some?’
‘We have a desalination plant. It’s not a problem.’
‘I’m sorry to leave so many of you guys behind, I truly am. I don’t like to think of you all marooned out here.’
‘You’re doing what you can.’
‘It’s royally fucked up. Things were bad when we set sail from Rosyth a month ago. Fighting in supermarkets. Looting. Sounds like it’s got a whole lot worse since then. Myself. Dave, my mate. We both have families. It’s time to be a little selfish and head home.’
‘Nobody blames you. No one at all.’
‘We’ll tell people you’re here. We won’t let them forget you.’ They hauled the pallet truck down the corridor to the Level Four elevator.
‘I’ll head back to the canteen,’ said Punch. ‘Fetch you some stuff.’
‘Thanks,’ said the captain. He stepped into the elevator and pressed Down.
Nail and his buddies waited by the elevator doors on Level One. They each held a knife. A screen displayed floor numbers. They monitored the elevator’s descent. ‘Here he comes,’ said Nail.
Jane looked down at her hands.
‘No,’ she heard herself say. ‘I appreciate what you are saying. I want to go home and yeah, I don’t bring much to the party. Just another mouth to feed. But I’m not going.’ ‘Can we skip the ritual objections?’
‘I want to get on that boat. I’ve got folks back home. But there are plenty more deserving than me.’
‘Executive decision. You’re leaving.’
‘You’ll have to Taser me aboard.’
‘Happy to do it.’
‘Some of these guys have kids. Bardock. Doesn’t he have a son? Half the guys on this rig took the job to pay child support.’
‘Bardock runs the pipe.’
‘We won’t be pumping any time soon. He’s a spare part, just like me.’
‘It’s the same for me,’ said Sian. ‘I’m alone. Just a step- dad. Pick a couple of men with children and put them on the boat.’
‘Is that how you want to do it? Dependants? Last chance to change your mind. No shame in seizing an opportunity.’
‘Put their names in a cup.’
They drew RICKI COULBY and EDGAR BARDOCK.
‘Bardock and Coulby,’ said Jane. ‘A couple of well-liked guys. Can’t see anyone objecting if they won a ticket back to the world.’
‘Coulby has four daughters,’ said Sian, checking the files. ‘And yeah, Bardock has a son. Pretty much settles it.’
‘Unless we put Nail on the boat,’ said Jane. ‘That’s our other option.’
‘Why the fuck would we do that?’ asked Rawlins.
‘Because he’s trouble.’ She turned to Sian. ‘How many times has he hit on you? We barely see you these days. You’re a prisoner in your room. Call it gut instinct. We could be stuck here a while. It might be easier all round if we mailed him home.’
The elevator doors opened. Nail ran into the lift, knife at the ready. His buddies ran after him. A pallet truck stacked with jerry cans. No captain.
‘Hi, fellas.’ The skipper was behind them. He stood in the stairwell doorway, shotgun at his shoulder. ‘Drop the knives.’
Nail was holding a diver’s serrated knife. He adjusted his grip. Four metres between him and the captain.
‘Seriously, guys. The choke on this thing is set for a wide spread. I can put all of you down with a single shot. Drop the fucking knives.’
Yakov inched along the wall like he was getting ready to attack. Shaved head. Cyrillic knuckle tattoos.
Nail shook his head and threw down his knife. They all reluctantly dropped their weapons.
‘Kick them over here.’
They kicked their knives into the stairwell.
‘Hands on your head. All of you.’
‘No hard feelings, all right?’ said Nail. ‘If you were in our position, you would do the same thing.’
‘Grab some cans, fellas. You’re going to help me load up.’
They carried fuel cans to the ship and stowed them in the hold. The captain and first mate stood on the transom, shotguns at the ready.
The men reluctantly disembarked and stood on the dock platform.
‘Sorry, guys,’ said the captain. ‘Wish there was room for you all. Now why don’t you folks fuck off and let us get going?’
Departure
Nail and his gang of muscle freaks were nowhere to be seen.
The remaining crew stood on the docking platform and shouted questions to the first mate. Jane watched from the helipad. The mate stood at the prow, shotgun over his shoulder. He kept his answers non-committal, said
