HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (23 page)

‘They’re all away,’ confirmed Ben.

Erin felt truly relieved. She lifted the radio again. ‘The Marines were ordered to secure the bridge until the
Pegasus
arrives. I’ll bring them now.’

‘Wait,’ said Ben. ‘Patch them into our emergency frequency.’

Coleman had heard. He checked Erin’s radio and then directed his team to the new frequency.

‘This is Captain Coleman, United States Marines.’

Erin could hear both Coleman and Ben’s voices over her radio now.

‘Captain. This is First Officer Ben Bryant. Thank you for your help. You just saved a lot of lives, but I’ve received some bad news.’

‘I’m listening,’ prompted Coleman.

‘No one is coming to help the lifeboats,’ said Bryant. ‘No one is coming to help us. Not yet, anyway. The
Pegasus
has orders to stand off from the lifeboats until the infection is identified.’

‘But we have badly wounded passengers on those lifeboats,’ objected Erin. ‘They need medical assistance right now.’

Coleman shook his head. ‘They’re doing the right thing. This infection must remain quarantined to the ship. What’s your status, Officer Bryant?’

‘We’re secure on the bridge,’ confirmed Ben. ‘The sick passengers can’t reach us.’

Coleman’s posture relaxed very slightly. ‘All right then. It’s time to tell us what you know. We were sent to quell a riot. This isn’t a riot. These people are psychopathic. What’s happening on this ship?’

Erin shook her head.
No one knows anything.

But Ben’s answer surprised her.

‘Last night we rescued a woman from a life raft,’ Ben said. ‘We’re certain she brought this on board.’

Erin hadn’t been told about this. She could barely believe what she was hearing.

‘Is she still alive?’ asked Coleman.

‘Unknown,’ answered Ben.

Erin felt furious.
The Captain rescued someone? Someone sick? And he didn’t bother even telling me!

Ben Bryant was someone Erin trusted. She tried to stifle her anger, but she couldn’t.

She blurted over the radio, ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this, Ben? I had a right to know. I’ve been risking my life out here!’

‘Those were the Captain’s orders,’ replied Ben. ‘When I objected, he shouted me down. You know his style.’

Erin did.

The Captain conveniently forgot the ship was a floating hotel. As the Hotel Manager, Erin needed to know about anything affecting her passengers.

The Captain’s chauvinistic attitude proved a constant challenge, but it hadn’t put her life at risk before.

‘What were the Captain’s orders?’ asked Coleman, putting a settling hand on Erin’s shoulder.

Bryant replied, ‘After we advised mainland operations about the severity of the symptoms, we were contacted by the U.S. Agency for Infectious Diseases. They had protocols. They didn’t want a ship-wide panic. They informed us we had an infectious disease expert on board. A passenger. Her name was Neve Kershaw.’

‘Was she sick?’ asked Coleman, suspecting the worse.

‘No. Thank God. She put a response plan together in minutes. She suggested using the fire teams to extract healthy passengers. On her advice I quarantined everyone to their cabins and cut off the air conditioning to slow down the infection. She also ordered a full spectrum of medical tests on the woman we picked up.’

‘What did the tests show?’ prompted Coleman.

‘We don’t know,’ replied Bryant. ‘The results are still down in the hospital. The staff evacuated. I don’t know how far the medical staff got in their work. And the results wouldn’t mean anything to me. We needed Neve Kershaw.’

‘She evacuated?’ asked Coleman.

‘I doubt it,’ replied Ben. ‘I don’t think she survived.’

‘Why?’ asked Coleman.

‘She was in a wheelchair,’ explained Bryant.

Erin remembered welcoming Neve on board.

‘She was traveling with her son,’ Erin remembered. ‘He was only fourteen or fifteen.’

Another Marine cut into the conversation.

‘Captain, this is Myers. I have information.’

‘Go ahead, Myers.’

‘We saw a woman in a wheelchair cut through the atrium.’

‘Was a boy with her?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Which direction?’

‘Toward the promenade,’ replied Myers. ‘They were moving fast. The wheelchair wasn’t slowing her down, but about ten hostiles pursued them. We gave them the best head start we could, sir.’

‘Good work, Myers.’

Coleman turned to Erin. ‘How can we find them?’

Erin spoke into her radio. ‘What about the promenade security cameras, Ben?’

‘I’m searching them now,’ replied Ben. ‘I can see a crowd of sick passengers. I can’t see...wait, I’ve got them. I can see them. I know where they are. They’re in trouble, Erin. They’re trapped in Murphy’s Irish Tavern.’

Erin knew the way.

‘What’s the fastest route?’ asked Coleman.

‘Head to the promenade,’ said Ben. ‘But listen carefully. There are large groups of sick passengers all over the ship. I’ll guide you through them, but you’ll all have to move exactly as I tell you.’

‘My team has split up,’ said Coleman.

‘I know. I have you all on camera.’

‘Can you guide all of us?’

‘I’ll have to,’ replied Ben. ‘You’re going to need everyone. The promenade is crawling with sick passengers and they’re all heading toward Neve Kershaw and her son.’

Justin peeked over the wooden countertop.

He ignored the smell of beer and scanned the promenade.

Cobbled walking paths meandered around tall palm trees. Between the trees hung strands of lights that glowed day and night. Shops and restaurants lined the entire perimeter.

And the crazies were everywhere.

Justin studied them carefully.

Without someone to chase, they resembled a bunch of raggedy homeless people looking for dropped change or leftover food.

They were looking everywhere.

Searching.

They were searching every inch of the promenade.

They’re looking for us
, thought Justin.
They’re searching for people to kill.

And their searching wasn’t random.

At first it seemed each crazy was doing its own thing, but Justin now saw they were searching systematically from one end of the promenade to the other. Sometimes they overlapped, but their progress pressed always forward.

Closer and closer to Justin and his mom.

They looked like confused, homeless people now, but when they found Justin and his mother, they would turn hateful and vicious again.

How long have we got?

Justin scanned the structures between the sickies and the Irish Tavern.

They only have to finish searching the Duty Free Shop, the Pizzeria, two photo booths and the Art Gallery before they reach us.

He’d pushed his mother into the Irish Tavern because it looked dark and had plenty of places to hide. Running, he had swerved her chair around all the tables and up behind the bar as the crazies came bursting out onto the promenade.

We’ve only got a few minutes
, Justin estimated.

He’d found a heavy metal wrench behind the bar. It looked like the tool used for connecting kegs of beer to the pipes under the bar.

Crouching, he accidentally clipped his mother’s shin with the wrench.

‘Ouch,’ she whispered.

‘Sorry,’ whispered Justin automatically.

It took a few moments before the significance of his mother’s complaint struck him.

‘What did you just say?’

His mother’s eyes went down to her legs.

‘I think I said
ouch,’
she replied.

Justin looked from the wrench in his hand to his mother’s leg. For all of Justin’s life, he had never witnessed her react to anything touching her legs. She had to be careful when playing wheelchair basketball because she could injure her legs without even realizing.

Her spinal damage left her legs completely numb. Justin had seen the decade-old X-ray and MRI scans. The damage was irreversible. Therefore, she couldn’t have felt him clip her shin with the wrench.

‘Why did you say that?’ he asked.

Neve shook her head and rubbed her eyes. ‘Sorry, Justin. It’s just stress. I’m making things up in my mind now. Forget about it.’

Justin began to turn away, but spun back.

‘But how did you know?’ he asked.

‘Know what?’

‘How did you know I hit your shin with the wrench? You didn’t see me do it. You weren’t looking down.’

His mother groped for an answer.

‘Phantom pain,’ she finally said. ‘I haven’t felt it for years. It can return during stressful times. That’s all it could be. It’s all in my head. Just forget about it.’

‘Okay,’ said Justin, a moment before whacking his mother’s other shin hard with the wrench.

His mother lunged for her shin, her eyes opening wide in shock or surprise or pain.

Justin didn’t know which, but he was sure of one thing.

‘You felt that, didn’t you?’ he demanded quietly.

His mother stared at him, then at the wrench, then at her legs.

Justin didn’t need an answer. He knew she’d felt it. Maybe not like an able-bodied person might, but she’d definitely felt it.