Blood Memory: The Complete Season One (Books 1-5) (17 page)

Big Daddy pulled forward once more. There was an ominous groan. Dirty black smoke erupted.

The rope creaked and twisted.

The Lurchers were almost on them.

Jordan swung the machete.

C
rack!
The rope snapped.

The boat
jerked forward. Working on instinct, Jordan grabbed Anne by the arm and pulled her onto the gangplank. They ran across it. The end was slipping free from Big Daddy’s deck.

The Lurchers made it to the gangplank
. They limped up it. Jordan felt their combined weight on the flimsy board, making it wobble to and fro. Anne jumped, suddenly in the air, flying, and so was Jordan.

The boat
jerked back, picking up speed, tossing up frothy wash onto the quay. The gangplank inched its way toward the edge. Big Daddy’s engine roared. Anne landed on the deck with a grunt, followed by Jordan.

The gangplank gave way, but not before the front Lurcher leapt
– more of a staggering fall. The other Lurchers fell into the sea.

Jordan looked back. The
lead Lurcher flew toward them, teeth bared, eyes red with rage. It reached the apex of its flight and fell, arms outstretched. The tips of his fingers brushed the sole of Jordan’s boot, curled for grip but found none until they came to the edge of the deck. It gripped tight.

Jordan raised his leg to kick it, but the Lurcher’s body smacked into the side of the boat and his fingers lost their grip, leaving deep gouges. The Lurcher screamed as he plummeted
into the sea.

Jordan lowered his leg and turned to Anne. “Are you all right?”

Anne was directly under him. Her breath was soft and warm against his cheek. “I’m fine.”

The Lurchers flapped their limbs uselessly in the water,
finding neither buoyancy, nor movement. The Lurchers on the quay reached stupidly for the rapidly disappearing boat.

All the Lurchers,
but one. He alone watched the boat drift away and made no attempt to reach for it.

A slender arm shook him awake. Jordan muttered the end of a sentence he had been speaking in his dream and looked up with groggy eyes. It was Stan.

A flock of geese honked as they flew over the boat toward the sun that hung low over the horizon. Jordan guessed he must have slept around six hours. Telling the time by the sun had become second nature to them all.

The sunlight kissed the yacht’s white skin, causing Jordan to shield his eyes with a hand.
Despite the unyielding hardwood deck, it had been a peaceful sleep. No screams or burning houses this time. His dreams always were peaceful at sea.

“Sorry to wake you,” Stan said, stirring Jordan for the second time. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “But I need to speak with you.”

Jordan forced himself to sit up. “What’s up?”

“It’s Mary. She’s, uh-” He wringed his hands. “God, how do I say this? I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Promised who?”

“Mary.”

Jordan stifled a yawn. “What did you promise her?”

Stan directed a look over his shoulder, toward the cabin. Anne was showing Jess how to steer the boat. They were well out of earshot but Stan lowered his voice anyway. “It’s Mary. She’s sick, Jordan. Really sick.”

Jordan snapped awake. “Is it the virus? Is she infected?”

“No,” Stan said waving his hands. “It’s not that. It’s a little more… complicated than that.”

Jordan relaxed. “Then it’s probably nothing to worry about. I’m sure we can find some way to help.”

“There’s no way to help.” It was the finality of Stan’
s words that grabbed Jordan’s attention.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s best if you come with me,” Stan said as he walked toward the bridge.

The sea was calm as a spring pond. Hardly a ripple dappled its smooth surface.
The hull of Big Daddy knifed through the water like a shark’s fin. High up on the deck behind a tinted window, Anne stood behind Jessie, who was at the wheel.

“Turn left, Jessie,”
Anne said.

Jessie didn’t reply
. She only stared out the window.

Anne took the wheel. “Like this. See?”

Jordan and Stan stepped into the cabin. Stan disappeared downstairs immediately without so much as a backward glance, while Jordan turned and offered a distracted smile.

“Woke up finally did you?”
Anne said.

Jordan’s hair stuck up like a
n unnurtured hedge. “Yeah,” he said, clearing the corner of his eyes of sleep. “When did you get up?”

“About an hour ago.”

“You’re showing Jess how to drive?”

“Trying. I’m not the best teacher.”

“You can’t be worse than Stan.”

Anne chuckled
, stepped away from Jessie, and said in a low voice, “I need to talk to you about Jessie.”

“What is it?”

“I’m worried about her condition. Jessie’s lack of reaction concerns me. A shock could do incalculable damage to the brain, rendering the patient distant and unresponsive, unable to register emotive feelings or physical responses. There’s little I can do.”

“You said it might take a
little time for her to recover.”

“But usually there’s a gradual improvement. It’s not sudden, like switching on a light bulb.”

Jordan frowned. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying Jess might have a serious problem.
And it might last for a very long time.”

“When will we know for sure?”

Anne shrugged. “A couple of days, a month. It’s hard to say.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Jordan,” Stan said. He stood impatiently in the stairwell.

“Sorry, Stan. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Stan headed back down the stairs.

“Is Stan all right?”
Anne asked.

“He’s fine
. If we need to make a visit to a hospital for her, let me know.”

The main living area was a kitchen
-cum-living-room-cum-dining-room-cum-every-room. It was designed to be the main congregation point of the entire boat. Everything was polished white with sparkly red trim for extra flavour. It was a shaggin’ wagon on the sea. The sofas still smelled like fresh leather, the cutlery in the cabinets had never been used. The mirrors didn’t have a smudge on them.

Stan stood in the middle of the floor, nervous energy impersonate, his hands never still. One second they were in his pockets, then wringing themselves,
and then running through his hair. He moved to the door leading to the main bedroom. Stan’s hand shook when he reached for the door handle and turned it in an arc that seemed to take forever. Finally the door swung open.

Against the back wall was an empty bed
worked in three different kinds of wood. The headboard was in the shape of two bulls in the midst of battle with ‘DADDY’ written across the top in glittering gold. Draped across the bed were blankets of zebra, tiger and bear skins.

T
hen Jordan realized the bed wasn’t empty.

Poking out from the covers and barely making a dent on
the pillow was Mary’s head. Her skin was so pallid and drawn that she was almost invisible against the pillowcases. There was a gasping sound as she inhaled, a faint whistle when she exhaled. She was so thin. How did he not notice before? She had probably lost weight gradually over the weeks and he hadn’t picked up on her bodyweight fluctuations. But that was no excuse. A friend should have noticed.

Stan sat in the chair beside the bed. He took Mary’s hand and brushed her hair back from her face
. “Mary,” he said. “Mary… Jordan’s here.”

Mary’s eyes flickered open. Her lips moved in what might have been words. Her eyes were thin and strained. She spoke in a voice whisper-thin that Jordan couldn’t hear.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” Stan said. “I had to tell him. I had to tell someone. I couldn’t hide this from the others forever.”

“What’s wrong with her, Stan?” Jordan asked.

Stan looked from Jordan to Mary, as if asking her for permission. “It’s cancer, Jordan.”

Jordan blinked with surprise. “Cancer?”

“She was diagnosed about fifteen months ago. It’s funny, really. Of all the things to die of in the New World, she’s going to die of an illness from the old one.” He smiled. “She always did have to do things her own way.”

“Oh
, Stan.” Jordan took a step forward and rested a comforting hand on the old man’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“We went to see the doctor after Mary complained of feeling lethargic. Mary’s always been an active person. She could never sit still for more than five minutes. At first
, they thought it was her age. Everyone has to slow down eventually, they said. And then one day we went into the doctor’s office to get the result. I held Mary’s hand like I am now and the doctor told us. Afterwards, we couldn’t believe it. ‘But she’s just a little tired,’ I said. I even accused the doctors of mixing the records up. Maybe we had someone else’s results. Then Mary put her hand on mine.”

He looked down a
t the fragile woman in the bed.

“Somehow, on some level, I think she knew. We worked our whole lives scrimping and saving so that one day we could travel round the world together.” Stan’s voice cracked and he took a moment to compose himself. “It was so unfair. But God was just getting warmed up. Mary was due to begin treatments two weeks later when all this madness kicked off. Every day she was on Haven she had a purpose, and I think that’s what kept her alive, kept her going. But whatever fight she had was taken by the storm. She’s got nothing left.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“I’ve been giving her medicine. Personal stuff we brought with us. But it’s only a matter of time now. With the therapy she wouldn’t’ve had to suffer like this. She might have even made a full recovery.”

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Jordan asked, keeping the anger he felt out of his voice. “We could’ve gone to the hospitals, found medicine, something…”

“That’s exactly why she didn’t want you to know. You might get ideas and go onto the land, risking your lives for her
s. She wouldn’t allow it. You know Mary. Sometimes she can be as stubborn as an old mule.” He wiped his eyes with a sleeve.

“We must be able to do something.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried everything I can think of?” Stan barked. He heard himself and calmed down. “There’s no changing the past. You don’t need to be a history teacher to know that.”

Mary grunted, her eyes clenched in
pain.

Stan checked his watch. “No more medicine for another two hours
, Mare.”

Mary’s lips moved.

Stan leaned in close. He shook his head. “Mare, you’re not strong enough.”

Mary
spoke again.

Stan sat there for a moment
and then nodded. “Okay.” He stood and turned to Jordan. “She wants to speak with you.”

“About what?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

With Stan gone t
he room suddenly felt empty and large. Mary lay still, unmoving.

Jordan looked back toward the door
. He dragged himself over to the chair beside the bed. Mary’s breaths, slow and shallow, counted down what remained of her life. Jordan leaned in close.

“Uh, Mary? You wanted to speak with me?”

Nothing.

Jordan leaned in closer. “Mary?”

Nothing.

Jordan shivered. A faint mist billowed in front of his mouth and nose. The temperature must have dropped. He looked around the room but saw no
air conditioner vents. Jordan looked toward the door again. He shook his head. He stood, but before he got to his full height, Mary’s hand seized him by the wrist. Her fingers dug into his skin, her eyes wide open. Unnaturally wide. Impossibly wide. And so was her mouth, filled with empty darkness. Whispered words escaped with the barest of movement of her lips.

“Sit… down.
”

Jordan’s eyes didn’t leave hers as he did so. Mary
loosened her grip. Loosened, but didn’t let go.

“Calmer seas…” the voice said, sounding like it echoed from somewhere far and distant. “We must find… calmer seas.
”

“Calmer seas?” Jordan
said. He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. “Where?”

“Out past… the Channel… and across… the blue emerald sea. They will tempt you… but you shall not be tempted. You must make your way… past them, past them… and continue on.”

Mary raised her head. There was a tearing sound.

Jordan bent forward and saw that great clumps of Mary’s hair had stuck to the pillow and come away from her scalp. “Mary, your hair…”