SALT: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

  The rain had thankfully stopped, but the wind still cut a cold edge, attacking his extremities with a ruthless prejudice. He pulled his hat down lower over his ears and pulled his collar up, but still the winds bit deep.

  As he navigated his way through the dark tunnels created by the containers, he passed a number of flotilla citizens huddled around their small driftwood fires, the smoke twisting out the cracks of the metal doors within their container homes. He moved quickly to avoid recognition. They’d only bug him about Mike.

  Throughout his walk, passing through the maze of paths, he heard the same questions over and over within the boat’s cabins:

  “What do you think Mike saw?” “Is it true he found someone?” “Will we be saved, finally?” “I heard he’s sick; has he brought a new bacterium back with him?” On and on, endless conspiracy theories, conjecture, and rumour.

  By the time morning came around, the information and rumours would have twisted into wild flights of fancy. But that wasn’t something Jim could worry about now. He just had to make sure Mike’s return remained a mystery, one way or another.

  He came to the container that Faust had earlier tried to break into. To Jim’s satisfaction, the chains and locks were still in place. He tested them just to make sure. Still solid, secure. Although their drinking-water stocks might be in peril, individuals would be able to boil the seawater and gather the condensation. It would be tough, but they could survive for a while like that, at least long enough to get the desalination units up and running again.

  Coming to the edge of the Chinese carrier ship, Jim prepared to climb down to the lower level created by a number of damaged pleasure craft that were lashed together with boards and sheet metal, fibreglass and sails. He turned around to grip the rail. A dark figure appeared in front of him, making him jump. He let out a surprised breath.

  “Jim, old son, need a hand?”

  “Marcus, you scared me for a moment there. What are you doing?”

  “Just having a lovely stroll about. Nice night for it, innit?”

  “It’s cold,” Jim replied, his voice tightening. Graves wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to bump into on a dark night.

  Graves didn’t say anything, just stood there, looking grim.

  “About our deal,” Jim said, thinking he should just get it over and done with while he had the chance. “It’s off. There’s no need to… deal with Faust now.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and expected Jim to continue.

  “You see, things have changed. I’m going to release her, make things right with her people. Work out a peaceful solution to this.”

  “Oh, peaceful, huh? Yeah, that’s not going to work. That lot are beyond peace. They pose a threat that needs dealing with. Besides, Jim, you forgetting that I want Frank out.”

  “He tried to kill me,” Jim said.

  Graves shrugged as though that had no meaning.

  “He stays inside,” Jim said, “until I can trust he won’t pose a threat.”

  “Jim, my old son.” Graves gripped Jim’s shoulder, pulling him close. “I don’t think you fully understand the situation here. You made a deal, and we’re sticking by it. There’s no negotiation on this now. You understand? It’s done. I thought you were a man of honour, Jim. A man of your word. Or is Faust right? Are you a liar and a betrayer? Are you a sinner, Jim?”

  “We’re all sinners here,” Jim said, pushing Graves’ hand off his shoulder.

  Graves grabbed Jim by his coat and pushed him back until his feet started to slip on the edge. Jim tried to push out with his arms, but the jacket material had bunched beneath them, restricting his movement.

  “I’ll make this real simple for you,” Marcus said as he pitched Jim towards the edge. “If you don’t release Frank by the morning, we’ll take him by force, and you and I will have some serious words. You get me?”

  Anger bloomed inside Jim, and all he wanted to do then was smash Graves in the face and send him over, watch his body get ripped apart by sharks, but he had no choice but to nod and agree.

  “Say you understand,” Graves said.

  “Fine, I understand.”

  Marcus smiled and pulled Jim from the edge, letting him go.

  Jim had to throw his arms and body forward to prevent himself from losing his balance and toppling backwards off the container ship’s deck. He steadied himself, bunched a fist ready to strike out, but when he looked up, Graves was already walking away in the dark passages of the containers.

  Jim kicked out with frustration and stifled a shout. It seemed wherever he turned, trouble waited for him, and Marcus wasn’t the kind of trouble he wanted. He took a moment to gather his cool, and slowly, with shaking hands, made his way down to the lower level and headed for Singh’s medical facility, all the while concocting murderous scenarios of how to deal with Marcus, Frank, and Susan Faust. Would he have to add Mike to that list? He hoped not. He was one of the good guys. But if it came to it…

  If it came to it.

  Chapter 13

  Eva and Ade trod water, holding onto each other’s arms. They had their facemasks on, regulators in. Ade had brought along a high-powered diving light to help illuminate their way, while Eva had a diving knife clipped to her belt. Neither wore a full wet suit. There just wasn’t time. Ade was used to the temperatures, but Eva wore a short suit covering her top half and arms. They would only be in the water for a short while with any luck.

  She checked the pouch clipped to the arms of her buoyancy control backpack. Inside was the key to the lock that would give them access to the sub. She made the “okay” sign by forming a circle with her thumb and forefinger. Ade returned it. He pointed down with his thumb, and Eva nodded. With that, the South African dived down into the water, his body slipping through the darkness.

  The diving light created a wide bloom of illumination, making it easy for Eva to dive in and catch up with Ade. She followed him as he gracefully kicked his flippered feet and propelled himself toward the long, dark shape hanging under the water.

  Eva’s muscles tightened with cold and the terrible suspense of expecting a shark to suddenly appear out of the gloom. She and Ade had surveyed the surface while they got ready, and with the aid of the moon, they had concluded there were no fins apparent.

  It didn’t mean they weren’t there, waiting, in the dark.

  Ade’s light bounced off a tall angular shape: the sub’s sail.

  Eva could make out the two black fins, or planes, sticking out either side like wings.

  Within a few more feet, Eva could make out the links of the heavy chain wrapped around the sail and through the handles that opened into the lockout trunk or escape hatch.

  They drew nearer, all the while Eva scanned her periphery, waiting for something to come darting out of the shadows, but all she saw were small, frenzied schools of young mackerel.

  A graceful ray glided far below her, reminding her of a stealth plane as it cut through the water, its fins undulating with unseen currents.

  Ade kicked his legs harder and approached the sub’s sail. He gripped the chain and turned to give Eva the okay sign again.

  She kicked harder and caught up, placing her feet on the hull of the craft.

  It seemed strange to be standing on top of a submarine out here, she thought. But she remembered why she was here. Using the illumination of Ade’s diving light, she found the heavy-duty lock holding the chains together. They wove through the two large metal handles on the escape hatch, holding it closed.

  Taking the key from the pouch, she fitted it into the lock and turned it. Although she couldn’t hear it, she felt the mechanism click into place and the chains loosen. It was her turn to give the okay sign as she removed the key, replacing it back into the secure pouch, and pulled the chains from the lock.

>   The hatch slowly opened without the tension of the chains holding it closed. Ade went first, holding the light in front of him as he dove down into the dark of the escape tube.

  He had told Eva earlier, at the surface, how it would work.

  They would enter a separate chamber with its own pressure. It would be full of water if someone had recently left it, which it was. Once inside the chamber, the submarine had controls to expel the water and pressurise it, meaning they could open a second hatch into the main submarine compartment.

  The lockout trunk was exactly as Ade had said, full of water, but he was already scanning the controls on the bulkhead and lighting his way around.

  Eva gripped the handles of the interior hatch that led to the submarine to hold herself in place as she waited. At least in here she didn’t have to worry about sharks.

  Something slid against her leg, and she yelled out with surprise, sending a column of air bubbles upwards. She kicked out as something brushed her leg again, as though whatever it might be was inspecting her, testing whether she was food or not.

  Ade swung round, shone his light.

  Eva’s heart raced. She had the urge to just kick out and get the hell out of the tight confines of the lockout trunk. With her and Ade in there, with no other lights, she felt trapped. She spun round, trying to see what had touched her, and briefly felt something tap against her flipper.

  Ade questioned her with the okay signal, and she shook her head. He swam closer, placed his hand on her arm, and shone the light down into the dark water. Something quickly swam away, but as Ade tracked it, she saw it.

  An eel. Just a harmless eel.

  Eva controlled her breathing, letting her heart rate drop.

  Ade grinned behind his mask before turning to examine the controls once more.

  A few minutes later Eva sensed something start to shift and move as though the submarine had woken from its slumber. Lights came on, making the water glow.

  A deep rumble stirred the water before forcing it out through pressurised jets. Eva clung to the handles of the interior hatch as the water level dropped and the pressure increased. She spotted the eel thrashing in the movement and descending to near her feet.

  She feared for it then, worried that the water would fully drain, leaving it to gasp and thrash in the open air. She kicked gently with her flipper towards one of the jets and watched with relief as the eel righted itself and headed out into the sea beyond.

  A small mercy, a small act of kindness, she hoped it would bring her some karma for whatever may lay ahead, even though she never believed in such a thing. She saw hundreds of examples of why it didn’t exist in her time on the force. Plenty of good people who had dedicated their lives to helping others would find themselves shot, stabbed, beaten, or robbed.

  Many of the murders she investigated, the victims turned out to be some of the most generous and loving people she had known, and yet karma had deserted them, and they fell prey to some malevolent force. Paid a price on a debt they did not own.

  But then we all pay for each other’s debts, she thought, whether that was fair or not.

  When the water level dropped to chest height, Ade removed his regulator and took a breath.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You can breathe normally now. Save your tanks.”

  She pulled the regulator from her mouth, enjoying the sensation of being free from it. The air was stale, dry compared to the mix in the tank, but it was air. She wiped her hair back and removed her mask, letting it hang around her neck. She tucked the regulator under the straps to her buoyancy pack to prevent it from snagging.

  “That feels good,” Eva said. “I know it’s not long, but I’m not a natural scuba diver.” She’d done some in her previous life. When she was younger, she’d held ambitions to be a marine and spent some of her teenage summers in Hawaii learning to scuba dive and snorkel, but unlike Ade, who moved like a fish, she never felt entirely comfortable being under the water. Didn’t enjoy the idea of all the weight pressing down on her. She carried enough guilt already and didn’t need the extra burden.

  “You’re doing fine, Eva. Let’s get inside and take a look around. Mike must have come here for a reason.”

  “And there’s no radiation risk from the damaged reactor?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I was with Stanic and the other engineers when Jim first brought this in with the subs. The power was off, but there was no radiation leak. We tried to run it, thinking the reactor could power the flotilla, but Stanic couldn’t find a way. Said it’d be too dangerous to try to run, but in its current state, it’s fine.”

  “I hope you’re right. I don’t fancy growing an extra head or something.”

  “Nah, man, you’ll get sick first.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Ade, I was trying to lighten the mood.”

  “Ah, sorry. Okay, the water is low enough, and the pressure is okay. See, the hatch has closed. When we leave, we do the opposite, and the hatch will open. Ladies first?”

  It was at that point she wished she had a firearm. She felt naked entering an unknown place without her police-issue pistol in her hands. But she remembered her knife, unclipped it from her belt, and held it out with a sure grip in her right hand.

  With her left, she pulled on the interior hatch. Without realising, she held a long breath in her lungs, and exhaled loudly after nothing came rushing out of the blackness.

  “Can I have your light, Ade?”

  He handed her the light. She shone it ahead of her and stepped inside the main compartment. For a moment she felt like the characters in the Alien film, the crew of the Nostromo as they explored the dark corridors of the abandoned facility. Only she didn’t have a maze to negotiate or a bleeping radar to give her a suspense device, but she did have a tight, unfamiliar tube to investigate.

  “It’s like a tomb,” Ade said, following behind her. “Only one where the bodies have been taken away. It’s creepy, man.”

  “And you’re making it creepier, Ade. Cut it out.”

  The light shone off metal surfaces in all directions as they ducked through the bulkheads to reach the deeper parts of the sub. “The mess hall,” Eva said as she stepped between tables and chairs lined up in a narrow section. To the left of the tables, an equally narrow galley with a food-serving area lined the opposite side.

  There were some plates still on the tables. Some of the food, perhaps potatoes, had dissolved into a mouldy gloop within the serving trays.

  Eva remembered something Jim had said about when they first boarded the sub: the entire crew were found dead. She pictured a corpse sitting at the table, the knife and fork still in his hands.

  She slid on the floor and slipped backwards before Ade grabbed her by the tanks.

  “Easy,” he said.

  When Eva looked down, she realised the floor was wet. Someone had been here recently after all. The hairs on her arms rose, and she shivered as she considered that someone might be in there, right at that moment, hiding in the shadows, like the sharks outside. Predators everywhere, biding their time, stalking their prey. Like she was hunting a murderer or a drug dealer.

  “Mike must have definitely been here recently,” she said, pointing to the wet prints. Using the diving light, she followed them through the mess hall until they arrived at the bunks. Three high on each side, they didn’t leave a lot of room for each submariner. She already felt a tinge of claustrophobia grip her, thinking about squeezing into one of these bunks. How they could spend any length of time down here, she could never know.

  “Check the bunks,” Eva said as she placed the light on the floor to light up the area as best as possible. Running her hands through the dark spaces, she tried to ignore the fear that something lurking beneath the sheets would grab her hand.

  Eva and Ade went from bun
k to bunk, investigating, wondering if Mike had stashed the USB drive here. All they found were the detritus of lives previously lived: photographs of smiling families before the drowning. Families smiling with a mixture of pride and fear.

  Despite herself, with each photo she saw, she pictured her own family, her daughter. She had had a similar photo in her locker at the police station. Her mom and pop, hardy farmer types, waving at her from the porch of their old house, bewildered as to why she’d give up a good honest, Idaho farming life for the violent, corrupt wilds of Baltimore.

  “I want to make a difference to people’s lives,” she had explained at the time. Growing potatoes wouldn’t bring closure or justice to a widow whose husband was murdered. There, among the filth and dregs of society, she could make a difference, even though at times she felt it wasn’t enough. One could never turn back the tide on one’s own. The Earth had taught her that one, time and time again.

  “Nothing here,” Ade said.

  “Ditto.”

  “There’s one place he’s likely to have used,” Ade said, pointing forwards. This time, he took the light and led the way.

  Eva followed as they continued to slip through the narrow accesses, passing great machines that would create oxygen from the water and others that scrubbed the recycled air. They stood like goliaths within the sub, their fascias an amalgam of dials, switches, and levers, a secret physical operating language that only a few would know.

  Ade disappeared into a side cabin, taking the light with him, plunging the rest of the sub into darkness. She stumbled, holding out her hands to find her way.

  “Ade, what the fuck?”

  “Sorry, man, here.” He pointed the light out of the room to guide her.

  This cabin was still as narrow as any other, but was clearly the captain’s room. A single bunk was a luxury here. A console with a computer unit and screen lined the main room, and next to it stood a desk and a switchboard. He could run the craft from here if he needed to, it seemed.