• • •

The two minutes felt like two hours to Lucya. She knew full well that the quickest time the virus had killed anyone was about twenty-four hours, and that Jake therefore was not exactly on the brink of dying. But she had seen the symptoms that led to death. She had seen the effect on the victim’s skin, the pain that accompanied the gradual paralysis. She’d seen the hair loss, the bleeding from the ears. And most of all, she had heard the screams of agony as internal organs failed, as muscle detached itself from bone, as bodies slowly and agonisingly decayed, making death a relief when it finally came. The thought of her beloved Jake suffering like that was almost too much to bear.

When Ewan returned and crossed the walkway, he was clad in black neoprene.

“If you’re going over there, I’m coming with you. Here, put this on.” He handed her a wetsuit. She nodded without saying anything, and began to strip right there. She pulled the suit on as quickly as she could. “You need these too, on your feet.” Ewan handed her the same cut-off sleeves that they had used previously. “It will give you more protection from the ash,” he explained. “There are gloves and gas masks in the raft.”

“So what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

The two of them ran down the metal steps to the platform that had been designed for boarding the ship’s tenders. Those had both been destroyed. Now there were just two inflatable life rafts tied up. One had no bottom; it was still waiting to be repaired. She clambered into the other. Ewan untied it from the platform, pushed it away, and jumped in. He located an oar and used it to push them further away from the ship.

“Ready to start rowing?”

Lucya didn’t need to be asked twice. She grabbed the second oar, and the two of them began to paddle, making for the stumps of the ship lift that marked out the entrance to the base.

• • •

Mandy Chalmers was becoming increasingly concerned. Following the jab, Kiera had initially calmed down. Her convulsions had stopped, and for a time, her temperature had started to come down. But then things had gone downhill, and very quickly.

The first sign that all was not well was the gurgling noise. Mandy hadn’t gone far; she was outside in the corridor talking to one of the other nurses. Yet even out there, with the sounds of groaning patients emanating from almost every room, she had heard that strange gurgling noise.

She had rushed back into the cabin, worried that Kiera had vomited and was choking. Something was indeed stuck in the nurse’s throat, and it was blocking her airway, but it wasn’t vomit. Mandy had rolled Kiera onto her side, into the recovery position. She had put two fingers into her mouth, knowing the gag reflex would force out whatever was stuck. Kiera had heaved, just as expected. Something had come out. Something slimy, something rotten. It snaked from of her mouth, but it wasn’t all out. With her latex-clad hand, Mandy had grabbed the part that had evacuated and tugged, hoping to dislodge the rest of whatever it was and clear Kiera’s throat. As she pulled, more and more of the slimy, putrid mess slid from her lips until the tail end flopped free, slopping onto the bed. Mandy stared at it, covering her nose with the back of her hand to try and block the repellent smell, and realised with horror that it was Kiera’s stomach lining. She had thrown up her own gut.

Matters went from bad to worse. Kiera was no longer choking, but she wasn’t breathing either. Mandy rolled her onto her back and with the end of a sheet, wiped the residue of the regurgitated innards from her mouth, then placed her own lips over the patient’s and blew into her lungs. She performed the mouth-to-mouth for a full minute before Kiera coughed and spluttered, sending more blood spraying everywhere. Mandy stepped back, turned around, and threw up on the floor.

At that instant, another nurse came into the room. The blood drained from her face as she saw the state of the bed.

“Call Janice, or Vardy. They need to get up here. Go, now!” Mandy croaked. She found a bottle of water and gulped half of it down, washing away the taste of her own vomit.

Looking back at Kiera she saw with some relief that the girl was still breathing, but only just. She was wheezing and straining, every intake of breath an effort. Mandy didn’t want to leave her on her own, but she needed equipment, and that was in another cabin. In a few seconds she had made up her mind, and sprinted out of the door and down to a room the team had been using for storing what few medical supplies they could get their hands on. It took her almost two minutes to make the round trip and, to her relief, when she got back to Kiera she found she was still alive.

“Stay with me, Kiera,” she said as calmly as she could manage. Hands shaking, she fixed a plastic mask over her patient’s mouth and nose. A thin tube ran back to a small cylinder. Mandy twisted open a valve and oxygen hissed out. Almost immediately, Kiera’s breathing became less laboured.

Mandy sank down into a chair next to the bed, and watched the wretched girl before her. Even with the aid of the oxygen, it was clear that she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“It’s okay, Kiera, you’re going to be okay. They’ve given you a cure. Your body is fighting the virus, but you can do it, you can pull through.”

To her absolute amazement, Mandy saw Kiera’s eyes open. She even managed to turn her head very slightly to the side, and look Mandy directly in the eye. There was a brief moment of absolute clarity, of complete understanding between the two women. With one look, Kiera conveyed her gratitude to Mandy for the care she had given, and her resignation and acceptance of what was about to happen. Mandy felt her eyes fill with tears.

“No! Kiera, hang in there!” she shouted, leaping to her feet.

Kiera’s head was flung back, as if an unseen hand had been thrust against her chin. Her mouth opened, and through the mask she let out the longest, most blood curdling scream Mandy had heard in her life. It filled the room. It echoed down the corridor outside. It seeped into every other cabin on that section of deck eight. The fear and the pain in that single scream silenced everyone who heard it; those who were well, and those who were themselves suffering and in agony. The scream seemed to carry on forever.

As Mandy looked on, horrified, Kiera’s back lifted up off the bed. She knew what was going to happen next. She had seen Scott’s demise, but she stood rooted to the spot, paralysed by the scream, unable to look away. And then, with a terrible, horrific ripping sound, Kiera’s whole body seemed to split in two. A tear that started in her chest, ran the full length of her torso. At the exact same moment, her insides liquefied, and spilled out onto the bed. The scream stopped abruptly, and what little remained of Kiera Stevens collapsed, slopping into a black, oily puddle of pulp.

Twenty-Four

EWAN SET ABOUT securing the raft, searching for somewhere to tie it up. Lucya was already out of the craft and scrambling over the concrete boulders, desperate to get inside the base despite his protestations. He hadn’t explained to her exactly where the entrance was, and didn’t want her to risk spending any more time in the ash than was strictly necessary. As she disappeared out of sight over the top of the pile of debris, he realised he was going to lose her. He looked at the rope in his hand. It wasn’t very long, and there was nothing obvious to tie it to at the spot where they had alighted. Instead, he wedged it between two huge lumps of concrete, where it stuck fast, and set off after her.

When he reached the former base he realised he needn’t have worried. Lucya was following the footprints in the ash. They led directly to the door in the base of the ship lift support.