HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (10 page)

Without hesitation, Ben crossed to the communications station, squeezed Karen’s shoulder, and then triggered the evacuation alarm.

‘This is it!’ cried Justin.

The siren and evacuation message blared out all around the ship.

Click.

Justin heard their cabin door unlocking.

The door began opening automatically.

‘Come on. Let’s go!’ Justin yelled at his mother.

Justin was leaving everything. He only carried the wooden leg he’d unscrewed from the coffee table. If anyone got in his way, he intended to clobber them.

He gripped it tightly.

The cabin door swung fully open.

The evacuation alarm sounded even louder now.

Justin imagined hundreds and hundreds of doors opening all over the ship, releasing the sick and the healthy into the corridors together.

Justin’s mother shoved the ironing board back into place.

‘Hurry!’ yelled Justin. ‘We need to go before the hallway fills up with freaks.’

Justin’s mother played wheelchair basketball. She could move fast in her wheelchair. She did so right now.

They paused to peer into the hallway.

For a moment the hallway stood empty...

...and then pure chaos erupted.

People surged from everywhere into the hallway.

His mother grabbed Justin’s arm. ‘Wait!’

Justin saw why.

The sick passengers trying to escape their cabins had surged first into the hallway. Spotting open cabins all around them, they began charging into rooms.

The healthy passengers tried to escape.

The hallway descended into a state of violent anarchy.

Justin heard so much screaming it became one continuous sound. People were punching and biting, kicking and fighting. People rolled on the floor or in the doorways, battling for their lives. Justin couldn’t even tell who was sick now.

Everyone looked crazy.

And every second the corridor grew more crowded as the sick and healthy came together like magnets. The combat grew like an amorphous creature stretching the length of the corridor in both directions, rolling and squirming and bucking as pure animal savagery was released on both sides.

 Wherever possible, people began fleeing, trying to run the gauntlet of homicidal maniacs to reach the stairs.

Justin frowned at his little wooden club.

We can’t do this
, he thought.
We’ll never make it. We need to shut this door and—

‘Wait...wait...NOW!’ said his mother.

She zoomed from their doorway and straight into the chaos. One moment she was beside him, the next she was powering through the mayhem.

Justin sprinted after her.

Taking the lead, his mother lowered her head and charged forward in her chair.

Justin chased her, ducking blows and dodging kicks. A punch clipped the back of his head. Someone grabbed his shirt but lost their grip. A woman dove at his hips, but his momentum sent her tumbling into the wall.

Ahead, three struggling men fell between Justin and his mother like a felled tree falling across a road.

Justin didn’t slow.

Only momentum and speed mattered now.

He leaped over the struggling men.

His mother had chosen their timing perfectly. No one managed to stop them. Ahead, people sprinted up the stairs, avoiding the elevators.

People are getting through!
realized Justin.

His mother avoided the elevator and stairs. She raced toward a side corridor. The corridor led to ramps for passengers in wheelchairs. Her chair barely slowed as she swerved around the corner.

Justin lost sight of her.

He dashed around the corner just as his mother slammed down her brakes.

Their luck had run out.

A woman spun toward them. She looked like she’d fallen sick last night at the casino. Her black sequined dress hung from one shoulder. Spotting Justin’s mother, her face twisted with rage.

She gripped a pair of black stilettos like weapons.

Blood dripped off one spiked heel.

‘Dodge around her!’ Justin shouted.

Instead of dodging, his mother accelerated, smashing her chair straight into the woman’s legs.

Tangled together, the crazy woman and Justin’s mother slammed down onto the floor.

Justin didn’t have time to panic. His mom was vulnerable. Maybe hurt. He needed to get her chair back up.

But first he needed to deal with the crazy woman attacking her.

Justin didn’t play football, but he knew how to tackle.

He dove over the wheelchair and tackled the woman off his mother. His shoulder slammed so hard into her chest that he heard her ribs crack. The stiletto shoes went flying.

That should slow her down.

He was wrong.

She didn’t even pause.

She scrambled right on top of him.

God, she’s on me!

Justin swung his wooden club at her head.

Thump!

It struck her chin and split her lip.

She punched him back in the face. Before Justin could recover, the woman grabbed his club with both hands and shoved it down on his neck.

Oh, God, she’s winning. She’s going to kill me!

Justin couldn’t lift her.

He felt the wood crushing his windpipe. He could barely think, let alone breathe.

 The woman pushed down so hard on Justin’s throat that her arms shook. She stared into his eyes.

Justin saw nothing but anger.

Push her off with your legs
, he thought desperately.
That’s the only way.

Clang!

The crazy woman tumbled off him.

Justin grabbed his throat, sucking in air and raising his club defensively.

The woman lay still.

He climbed to his feet, holding his club ready, staring at his mother.

She sat in her wheelchair again. She held a clothes iron. She’d used the iron to clobber the crazy woman.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

Justin pointed at the iron. His voice sounded croaky. ‘I didn’t know you had that.’

‘Neither did she,’ said his mother.

Justin remembered his mother fussing with the ironing board back in their cabin.

She was arming herself
, Justin realized.

The steel clothes iron had felled the woman with one hit.

Justin frowned at his short, wooden table leg.

I need something heavier.

Coleman hauled open the Black Hawk’s cargo door.

‘Come on. Let’s go. Go!’

His team leaped down onto the helipad. The single helipad jutted off the ship’s stern.

Coleman leaped out last and waved everyone away from the chopper.

‘I don’t see any rioting,’ shouted Forest.

‘I don’t see anyone at all,’ replied Easterbrook.

Before them, colorful deckchairs surrounded a children’s water park and playground. The water park surrounded a rope climbing tower and two long waterslides. To Coleman’s right rose a rock climbing wall. To his left lay a surf simulator.

Beyond the surf simulator, a golf putting green wound back into lushly manicured gardens.

‘Check this place out,’ yelled Myers, bending to pluck something from the helipad. ‘Real grass.’

Coleman didn’t care about the grass.

Where are the passengers?

He signaled the pilot. The chopper’s rotor blades began to slow.

Forest snapped up his arm. ‘Captain. Look.’

A tall woman came sprinting toward them across the water park. A set of sliding glass doors closed behind her.

What’s she running from
? Coleman thought instantly, seeing the fear on her face.

And then he witnessed something truly disturbing.

A mob pursued the woman.

A mob of people.

When they reached the automatic glass doors, they didn’t stop running.

They didn’t slow.

They just ran straight into the glass at full speed.

SMAAAASH!

Bodies broke through the glass like a tidal wave.

The front runners fell through the breaking glass, impaling themselves instantly on the razor sharp shards. The mob pushed forward, charging right over the impaled people, crushing them underfoot with total disregard.

People poured through the doors faster than Coleman could count.

Like rushing water
, he thought.
Like water bursting through a broken dam wall.

‘Fucking hell!’ swore Myers. ‘What are they running from?’

‘They’re not running,’ pointed Coleman. ‘They’re chasing. They’re chasing her.’