For Those In Peril (Book 1): For Those In Peril On The Sea (14 page)

‘From the beginning we decided that no one person should be in charge. Each group or boat has one person to act as their spokesperson at community meetings. Any proposals are put to a vote and we make decisions together. Anyone can make a suggestion or raise an issue if they want to. For the most part, people are free to do whatever they please within their own boats. They can come and go if they wish, and they can choose to go elsewhere if they don’t like the way things are being done. So far no one has left,
’ Jack eyes flicked over to a group of five boats set slightly apart from the rest, ‘But then again there isn’t really anywhere else they could go.’

‘This is our main base. It’s sheltered and we can anchor far enough away from the shore that the infected pretty much ignore us. We have to head out to forage though. We’ve been mapping out which areas are safe and making the places that aren’t off-limits, like Boat Harbour’s meant to be.’ Again Jack’s eyes flicked across to the small group of boats and I wondered whether one of them belonged to David.

‘If we come across boats that are empty and still seaworthy, we try to bring them here so we can use them. If we find ones with infected on board, we mark them so others will know and stay clear. That was another way we lost people at first, going onto boats that seemed empty only to find they weren’t. Marking the boats keeps that risk to a minimum.’

I w
ondered how many lives this had saved. I wondered if we’d have been tempted to try to get supplies from any of the boats in Man-O-War harbour if they hadn’t been marked. I didn’t think so, but then again, if we’d been desperate enough we might have taken our chances.

‘There were a couple of attempts to try to clear boats, but there’s no way to do it safely; there are just too many places where infected could be lurking, waiting for people to come near, and it’s almost impossible to fight them off in such a confined space. After we lost people on the first two attempts, we decided any marked boats should be considered off-limits, no matter what.’ He looked at me to make sure I understood.

‘We try to make sure we only go away for a few hours at a time, taking one of the small runabouts, but we’ve already used up almost all the nearby supplies that are easily and safely accessible. We’ve got a choice now between going ashore on some of the bigger islands or going further afield, to try and find safe places where we can get the things we need. That’s something we’ll decide at the meeting this afternoon.’ Jack stopped to gather his thoughts before continuing. ‘Personally, I think it’s pretty obvious which we should do. We simply can’t risk going ashore where there’re infected, but we need to do something.’

I considered all Jack
had told me about the community. It was amazing how much they’d achieved in such a short time: two, three weeks at the most. Then again, people who lived on boats and in places where there were lots of tourists and visitors were used to being part of a shifting, changing community, and they knew how to work with each other, with strangers. I’d seen it many times as I travelled round the world.

‘Things were going fine.’ Jack
looked out across the harbour to where the infected shuffled along otherwise deserted streets. ‘Well, as good as could be expected given the situation, until David arrived with the other boats from Florida. That was about a week after the islands were overrun. He wanted to do things very differently. He thought we needed a leader; that he should be in charge. He just didn’t want to play by the rules we’d set up. For him, it’s his way and nothing else.’ Jack spoke these last words with derision.

‘We’d have asked him to leave if it had just been him, but there were twenty-two of them in all and it boosted our numbers. We thought the more people we had the better, but when we meet to make decisions, David can cause problems. The people he came over with look up to him, but that’s not surprising; he got them here without losing a single one to the infected, and he can always rely on them to back him up. This creates a “them and us” situation, and, at times, it’s come close to tearing the community apart.’ Jack glanced at me. ‘That’s one of the reasons I was so glad to see you guys arrive. Maybe having a new voice in the group will help settle things down.’

I had seen it before; one egotistical person could easily disrupt the harmony of a group simply by their presence. They would demand, bully, do anything to get their own way.

‘Well, I should probably leave you guys to settle in. A couple of quick housekeeping rules before I go though. Standard stuff, but still it needs to be said.’ Jack smiled at me and then continued. ‘Don’t let your toilet empty straight into the harbour, and don’t empty your sewage tank here either. We’ve designated an area off Matt Lowe’s Cay for that. It’s the island straight across from the harbour entrance. If you’re going to make freshwater using a reverse osmosis machine, again do it outside of the harbour and well away from Matt Lowe's;
we don’t want anyone picking anything up. We don’t have medicines to treat people if they get ill. Don’t run your generator in the harbour, the noise riles up the infected. I think it’s the low frequency they put out, it carries further onto the shore than most other noises.’

So far the rules were pretty much the same as the rules for any anchorage I’d ever stayed in, but then the difference between then and now started to become apparent.

‘Keep your cabin locked and all the hatches sealed at night; no matter how hot and stuffy it gets. Even here in the anchorage we get the occasional drifter.’

That was certainly something I’d never had to worry about before.

‘Don’t go ashore on any of the larger islands unless you have no choice. If you’re out foraging and someone gets injured — any type of injury — you need to report it. We’ll put them in quarantine for a couple of days, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s the same if you have a run-in with any infected, even if you don’t get injured. You need to tell someone where you’re going before you leave, and when you expect to be back. That way, if you get into trouble, we can send someone out to look for you, and help you get back. If you’re away overnight, and it’s looking increasingly likely we’ll have to start doing that, you need to check in on the VHF radio every morning. We have a meeting on channel sixty-eight at eight a.m. each day, just so everyone can catch up.’ Jack thought for a bit. ‘I think that’s pretty much everything. You got any questions?’

I couldn’t think of any.

‘Okay. Good. Community meeting’s at four. You’re welcome to come along if you want. It’ll give you a chance to meet some of the others.’

With that, Jack left. I stood on the deck and watched as he motored over to a large sport-fishing boat, about thirty-five feet long and very expensive. I didn’t know much about
him, but if Jack could afford a boat like that, he must have been pretty well-off before things changed, yet he didn’t act that way. Then again, maybe it hadn’t been his boat before; just like the catamaran hadn’t been ours.

I looked around the other boats, some with people on their decks, others apparently empty. A few people waved when they saw me. I turned my attention to the group of five boats that sat slightly off from the others, the ones Jack’s eyes had kept flicking to.
At the centre of this group was a large ketch, an old Morgan Out Island, about the same length as our catamaran a yellow quarantine flag was flying from its mast, warning people not to go on board, for the time being at any rate. A lone figure stood on its deck, binoculars raised, pointing straight at us. I had no doubt this was David, meaning the surrounding boats were those he’d led over from Florida. I got the feeling he was sizing us up. When he saw I’d spotted him, he lowered the binoculars and waved. I waved back, a slight unease rising within me. I couldn’t help feeling we’d stepped into the middle of a building feud and I didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

C
hapter Ten 

At first, people were wary of our presence, presumably because of the destabilising effect David’s arrival had had on the community, but they started to relax once they’d seen we weren’t going to cause any trouble. There were twenty-two inhabited boats within the harbour when we arrived, with ours making it twenty-three. The boats ranged from little day sailers with only one or two people living on them, to bigger ketches, schooners and catamarans with groups of five or six aboard, and even some larger power boats. While none were as new as ours, they all seemed in reasonable condition.

Many were covered in awnings to provide shelter from the midday sun, and most had other smaller boats either tied up alongside or anchored nearby. These were used as extra space to stow the many things people had scavenged, in case they might, at some point, prove useful. As Jack had driven me over to the meeting that first afternoon, I’d seen things like the tops of outboard engines, rolled sails, life rafts, bits of driftwood, empty propane cylinders and fuel cans sticking up above the gunnels of these storage boats.

The community meetings were generally held on Jack’s boat, not because he was in charge but simply because, as a large sport-fishing boat, it was the one with the most space in the cockpit and, indeed, in the cabin. The number of people present varied depending on what was to be discussed and what had happened in the preceding days, but it was a community rule that, if possible, at least one person from each boat should be there. This rule was relaxed later, once we started having to forage further afield, and boats were spending more and more time away from Hope Town, but at the time we arrived it was still in place.

There were twenty-nine people at the first meeting I went to, some boats having sent along more than one person. The main issue being discussed was whether to try and extend the safe foraging areas, to provide more opportunities to find food and supplies, or whether to allow people to venture onto some of the larger islands nearby. As a newcomer, I didn’t feel I should participate, so I sat back and listened, considering the members of the Hope Town community as I did so.

They all looked tired and run-down, with worry etched onto their faces. As with the party that had come to meet us off Man-O-War, all the men had beards of some description or other. Shaving with cold water was painful and heating water used up precious propane, or difficult to collect driftwood, so most chose to go without much of the time. Judging by the length of their stubble, some were shaving every few days while others were determined to let their beards grow full and wild. There were only four women at the meeting, three as representatives of their boats and one accompanying a man I presumed was her husband. None of the women wore make-up and most had their hair tied back in braids or ponytails. As with the men, it seemed that personal grooming was no longer high on their agenda.

Working outside without the luxury of being able to sit under a tree when the sun was at its highest was taking its toll on all of them. If anyone had had any sun block at first, it must have run out rapidly, and while the darker-skinned people now bore deep tans, the paler ones were blistered and sunburnt. Their clothes were worn but clean, or at least as clean as could be expected when they’d been washed in cold water with little or no soap. Some were rather ill-fitting and many were mismatched, suggesting they’d been scavenged rather than purchased.

After about twenty minutes it seemed everyone had had their say and it was time for the vote.

‘So, who thinks we should keep our activities on the water and that we should extend our range?’ Jack looked round as everyone present raised their hands.

‘Anyone think we should allow people to go foraging ashore?’ Jack only asked for the sake of completeness, and no one responded. It was clear no one wanted to set foot on the land if there was any possibility of avoiding it.

Jack carried on. ‘Right, so we’ll need some volunteers to do some scouting around.’

Two people raised their hands.

‘Okay, good.’ Jack pulled out a chart. ’Let’s try and work out where you’ll go.’

The chart had been heavily annotated and I could see many areas were outlined in pencil. While some of these contained rough sketches of a skull and cross-bones, others contained question marks or nothing at all.

Jack saw my interest and explained. ‘This is the master chart. We use it to keep track of where’s safe and where’s not. The ones with question marks are areas we’ve not checked out yet. Those with a skull and crossbones, like this one,’ Jack pointed to an area bearing the legend ‘Boat Harbour’, ‘are ones that we know are too dangerous because of the infected, and that we’ve decided should be off-limits. The ones with nothing in them are the ones we’ve checked and decided are safe, or at least are as safe as anywhere is now. When we know a particular island is free of infected, we mark it so that people can go
ashore to collect driftwood for cooking, and to look for things like coconuts.’

I examined the chart and saw that the areas marked as safe were very limited. I could see why they needed to extend it.

Jack glanced up at the two volunteers. ‘I think you should go down here and check out Lynyard Cay. If you report back to the meeting tomorrow, we can decide then how far north you can go the day after. D’you agree?’ Both men nodded.

‘What about the rest of you?’ Jack looked round the cabin for objections, but it seemed like everyone was happy with this decision and the meeting was starting to break up.

As Jack busied himself saying goodbye to various people, I studied the chart more carefully. I could see some of the smaller islands were marked as safe while others had skull and crossbones on them, but then I noticed that some of these symbols had been drawn and erased several times.

‘Hey, Jack,’ I called across to where he was standing. ‘How come these islands keep changing from safe to dangerous and back?’

Jack came over. ‘That’s because of drifters. They can turn up anywhere at any time. Unfortunately, it means that just because an island’s free of infected one day, you can’t assume it will stay that way. It’s something you’d do well to remember.’

I thought about this as Jack gave me a lift back to the catamaran. I’d presumed if we’d found an island was free of infected it would always remain so. Now I could see it wasn’t that simple, and if we went ashore, we could never drop our guard, not even for a moment.

I was brought back to reality by Jack. ‘Uh oh, looks like you’ve got visitors.’

He pointed ahead to a small dinghy that was alongside the catamaran. Three children were standing in it, hanging on the guard rail and chatting to Mike and Jimmy. I recognised them as the ones who’d been swimming in the harbour when we arrived. As we pulled up, the children waved to Jack and then turned their attention back to the boys.

‘In some ways the children find all that’s happened easier to deal with; in others, more difficult. I think they miss having kids their own age to play with, that and being able to run around. You’ll have noticed most of the people here are young men. They were the ones who were most willing to fight for survival, to do what needed to be done. The only youngsters that survived were ones already on boats when it happened. It’s the same with old people. None of them made it off either. Those kids there are the McGanns. You’ll have seen their father at the meeting. He was the one who volunteered to do the scouting tomorrow. The oldest, Jeff, must be about the same age as Jimmy. That’s their boat over there.’

Jack pointed to
a decent-sized schooner with a white hull, the name
Gone with the Wind
picked out on the transom in neat gold letters.

‘There’s six of them in all: Dan, his wife Kathy, Jeff,
Katie, the older of the two girls in the dinghy, Sam, the younger girl, and Kathy’s father. They were cruising the Abacos when everything went off and once they realised how bad things had become elsewhere they figured they might as well stay. They’re probably the most complete family left. I think sometimes others can be a little jealous of that; everyone else has lost family.’ Jack drifted off for a second, as if thinking of someone he’d lost. ‘But Dan’s really helpful, he knows his stuff. Speak of the devil ...’ Jack had turned to look over his shoulder.

Another runabout was heading towards us. A tall dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard flecked with tinges of red was at the wheel with a brown-haired woman standing beside him. They were both about my age, Kathy maybe a year or so younger, Dan possibly a couple of years older. While Dan would be considered rugged rather than handsome, Kathy was striking, even with her sunburnt face and mismatched clothes.

They pulled up alongside the dinghy. ‘Hey, Jeff, how many times have I told you not to take the dinghy out without asking?’ Dan’s voice was stern but not angry.

‘But we were so bored. We just wanted to say hi to the new people. Look, Jimmy’s my age.’ Jeff was talking as fast as he could. He was tall for his age and had short, scruffy hair.

‘Even so, you should’ve waited till we got back. What would’ve happened if the engine had quit on you? It’s not safe to go drifting around anymore, not even in here.’

Jeff looked at him as only a thirteen year old could, both hurt and disdainful. ‘Dad, I’ve been driving dinghies since I was eight. I’ve never broken down, not once. You know I can handle them perfectly well, and even if the engine did break down, we’ve got oars, haven’t we?’

‘Dan, maybe he’s got a point. We can’t keep them cooped up on the boat forever. There’s not that much risk to them taking the dinghy out in the harbour. There’re plenty of people around to help them if something goes wrong.’ Dan’s wife was siding with Jeff and I could tell from the looks on their faces none of her kids could quite believe it.

‘Humm ... okay, I guess. But there will need to be some rules.’

‘Yes! Anything, Dad. Whatever rules you want. I’ll stick to them. Can I take Jimmy round to the other boats so he can meet the other kids?’

‘Yeah, I suppose. Although it depends on Rob.’

Everyone turned to me. I could tell Dan’s kids were trying to weigh me up and work out whether I was likely to say yes or no.

‘It’s okay with me, but I think you should ask Mike,’ I looked over at him. ‘He’s your brother after all. What do you think?’

Mike looked slightly flustered. It was obvious he wasn’t used to being in a position of power over his younger brother, or being treated as a grown-up. Jimmy looked at him expectantly.

Finally, he muttered, ‘Fine with me too.’

Jimmy let out a yelp of excitement as he leapt over the side and into the dinghy. It was the first time he’d been off the boat since we’d picked them up and, just as I had been, he was keen to spend some time with someone his own age.

As the kids puttered off in the dinghy, I heard the younger girl needling her brother. ‘You just want to show Jennifer off to him. You like her, don’t you? You love her ...’

Jeff blushed and splashed some water on her.

As we watched the kids head off across the harbour, Dan lent on the centre console of his boat.

‘Well, now we’re here, we should probably introduce ourselves properly. We were going to leave it until tomorrow, but I guess the kids
ruined that plan. Can we come aboard?’

I already liked Dan, but
I liked him all the more for asking rather than presuming he could. Some people seem to forget that boats are people’s homes, and they shouldn’t just clamber all over them without asking first.

‘Come on up.’ I looked over to where Jack still stood in his runabout. ‘You want to come aboard too?’

‘No, I’ve got things I need to be getting on with, but I’ll drop by later to see how you’re settling in.’

As Jack sped off, Dan and Kathy tied their runabout to the back of the catamaran and climbed over the guard rail.

‘Nice to meet you properly,’ Kathy smiled as we shook hands. ‘We didn’t really get time to say hi at the meeting. They can get a bit tense sometimes but it wasn’t too bad today.’

‘That’s because David wasn’t there,’ Dan added as he shook my hand.

Dan and Kathy exchanged a knowing look.

‘Yeah, he does have
a tendency to try and take over.’ Kathy swept a stray hair away from the side of her face. ‘He’s been like that ever since he turned up. He seems to think he’s still in the army and that everything should run military-style. We’ve got things working just fine our own way, there’s no need to go changing it just because he thinks we should be doing it differently.’

She paused
and looked towards the lighthouse. ‘He’s also got this idea into his head that we should be trying to clear an island of infected so we can live on it.’

I couldn’t believe it was true. From what I’d seen of the infected, this would never be possible, not for a group like the Hope Town community at any rate. I could only assume Kathy had misunderstood, but she carried on.

‘David’s always pushing that one, even though no one else thinks we could do it, or even wants to try it. He just won’t take no for an answer. He’s just being so pig-headed about it. He’s got to realise he’s not in the army anymore; that this isn’t something we can solve with bullets and guns. He’s got to realise it’s not a war, it’s about surviving, not winning ...’