Chapter Three
“Mrs Sherman, are you really telling me that the only way to stop this thing is to incinerate an entire city!?”
“No, Mr President. What I’m telling you is that because you waited to have this conversation, we’ll have to nuke several.”
–Dr Ava Sherman. Washington, DC. 4 Days After.
* * *
This was definitely taking longer than Liam had expected.
It had been well over a week at sea, and though his raft was as strong as ever, his body could not say the same. His lips were chapped and split against the endless sprays of saltwater, and his skin had turned bright red. The sun beat down without mercy, making it difficult to recover properly from the concussion he had gained back at Purgatory.
Fresh water was also running low. That had always been a possibility, though he had been lucky enough to use the typhoon to his advantage once he’d cleared the coastline. His sail had been designed in such a way that rain funneled into a centralized barrel, where it had remained for collection. But then some days later, a few rogue waves managed to pollute it with seawater, and he’d been stuck with rationing out Thirsty ever since. For all his ingenuity, he could not have accounted for everything.
Which was what made this next risk all the more appealing.
Off at the cusp of the horizon, a cargo ship sat. At first, Liam had assumed it to be a mere mirage, no more than a passing fever dream spawned from his injury. But the more time passed, the longer it persisted, until he was certain of its existence. He’d then started his firepit, using rubber from the plane’s wheels to create a thick, blackened smoke. If there ever was a time to launch his home-made flare, it would have been then.
But the ship had not moved. It appeared to only drift with the current, and after getting his raft within a kilometer of it, the sight of rust and stillness did little to ease his mind. What were the chances of finding a derelict in the open ocean like this? Or, better yet… What could have happened to cause one to form?
Liam watched the monstrosity floating in front. The current was pushing the cargo ship back west, but the wind had brought his raft’s momentum onward to the east. The two were now moving in different channels, and even if Liam had all the strength in the world, he suspected that he would not be able to close the gap by hand.
There was no way out of it. To explore this new environment risked sacrificing his current one. Another uncertainty, another timetable that wasn’t on his side. Why was the world always so cruel?
Liam sat immobile, his eyes fixed on the cargo ship. This was his prayers answered, the best shot he could take, his nightmare born anew. It was the apple being dangled in front of Eve. Was it worth risking his life another time?
Promise me. Again Liam thought of Nelly. Of the memory of her voice. Of his hand in her hair. Of that moment the two had first met. Of their years together in Alaska, living the life they’d always dreamed. He thought of Lilith, and the moment she had let go of his hand to walk a few steps on her own. He thought of how old she must be by now, and how much she had suffered without his love. He thought of all the mistakes he’d made in putting his pride over her well-being.
Liam knew what he had to do.
* * *
Swimming the kilometer of distance proved simple, as did scaling up the fourty meters of rusty ladder to get from the water to the main deck of the derelict. No, what ended up being the most difficult task was opening any bulkhead door in sight.
Liam sat stumped. He’d caught the name, at least. The Xin Yue Jiang, just visible in both Mandarin and English from the side of the vessel. The main deck was easy to traverse, as its cargo capacity was low and easily navigable. There was no telling how long the Xin had been drifting at sea, but based off the level of degradation, it had to have been years. The usual multicolored crates were cast in a smear of brown rust, matching the rest of the ship’s hull. The windows on the bridge were smashed in more than one place, and the radio tower had collapsed entirely.
What seemed most confusing were the tents up top. Some crates appeared to have been removed to make room. Liam ascertained that perhaps fifty people had camped out right on the main deck of the ship, though it was difficult to tell as most of the fabric had disintegrated with time.
Perhaps refugees? It was certainly within the realm of possibilities that this ship had left a war-torn country long ago, only to be abandoned on the shore of another. One wrong twist in the tides, and the Xin Yue Jiang could have been trapped at sea for decades without being seen. Liam had heard reports of that type of behavior from the Chinese government before. But then, why would the passengers leave their belongings behind? It seemed that they had left in a hurry, as there were the remnants of rotted food, half-empty luggage, trash piles, and clothes sprawled about. There were even tools available, with everything from hammers to screwdrivers to crowbars…
Liam gasped. “Oh, Thirsty, I’m such an idiot.” He’d been living alone for so long that he’d forgotten that other people could make other tools, and he could use those tools. He waltzed over to the most undamaged crowbar and gave it a spin. “I guess we can get to the bottom of this mess, yeah?”
With the added leverage of a crowbar in his hands, Liam was able to yank his way through a bulkhead door, straight into the bridge. An effluvia of rot immediately burst out from the screen of black. He coughed and withdrew a step, nearly passing out from the stench alone.
“Maybe we’ll need a little more help,” Liam decided.
He had been sparse with his own equipment, and only had his high-altitude pilot outfit, Thirsty, and a knife fashioned from flint. Anything more would have slowed his swim down. But fortunately, the prior residents of this ship had left a survivalist like Liam with a cornucopia of options. Within five minutes of preparation, he had a sustainable fire going, several torches at his disposal, some luggage to hold supplies, and an improvised spear. One never knew what to expect in an old vessel.
Moving through the bridge of the Xin Yue Jiang filled his mind with more questions than answers. The source of the odor was immediate. The remnants of bloodstains splattered the walls, though no bodies were in sight, and it had oddly turned jet black. Pipes had been trashed and fluid was leaking, though he didn’t know enough about ships to guess their identity. Any signs had been written in the ship’s native Mandarin, adding another layer of complexity to an already enigmatic puzzle. He could hardly make heads or tails from any compartment in sight.
Until he found the kitchen and its matching storage room a deck below. The instant his eyes fell on the trove, he thought of nothing else. Oats, rice, dried beans, pasta, lentils, dehydrated milk, peanut butter, honey, cans of vegetables, meat, fruit. And most importantly, bottled water. Gallons and gallons of it!
Where could he even begin? Most of the goods would have to be tossed out of hand, but even then, there was more food in this one little room than Liam had ever collected in the entire time he’d been on Purgatory. He could think of no greater version of heaven than locking the door and camping out here.
Liam went straight for the peanut butter, not even bothering to check how many years passed expiration it would be. A single thumb’s worth later, and he almost had an orgasm on the spot.
Liam closed his eyes and drifted back to fonder times. “They say that peanuts were originally used by the Incas of Peru to aid their loved ones in the spirit world, and it’s hard not to see why, Thirsty. Peanut butter is high in protein and monounsaturated fat, and is essential for anyone looking to get a large amount of energy in a short amount of time. In circumstances like ours, it might just be the difference between life and death.”
He reached for some Spam next. “What they don’t tell you about canned foods is that the expiration date isn’t half as important as the integrity of the can. Most toxicity comes from rusting of the metal and contamination of the contents inside, and not the degradation of the food itself.” He sank his teeth into the meat, still edible in spite of the time. “It’s the acidity that can be otherwise dangerous. Notice how I’m not going for those canned beets? As much as I would love beets right now, the sugars inside would have most likely broken down and become inedible.”
Next, he went for rice. “There’s a story of a man who discovered a barrel of rice on a wreck outside Beijing, dating back to the early 1800s. The collapsed deck had applied pressure that created a vacuum inside the barrel, and so even though it had been on the bottom of the ocean for hundreds of years, it was still perfectly safe to eat, with all its carbohydrates and fiber intact.” He shoved a handful in his mouth and shed a tear. “Thankfully, we share similar luck.”
Liam reached for more food but paused. His hand quivered as he fought the urge. Now more than ever, he needed to deflect the thought. “Refeeder Syndrome is a well-known condition that’s killed millions of people across the globe.” He stood up and began funneling cans that met his standards into his empty bag. “What happens is… During prolonged states of undernourishment, your body stops producing insulin, and instead burns fat and muscle. This creates an imbalance that affects metabolism drastically. Foods that are normally harmless begin to… Force your body to produce more insulin to overcompensate, at which point your electrolyte balance will be severely compromised. That can affect the… Heart, lung, kidney, even digestive system. Then you get more hungry in spite of eating more food, and the problem compounds itself until death. We can’t have that, Thirsty, now can we?”
He paused, his bag filled. “No, no we can’t.”
With his food and water supply secured, Liam delved deeper into the Xin Yue Jiang. Navigating the decks was difficult without understanding the language, but it wasn’t long before he started to locate more supplies. New clothing found in a cabin was a welcome change from the pilot suit he’d been forced to wear since the crash, even if the cotton from civilian clothes itched after so much time out of use, and the pants was a size too large. Some of the lithium batteries he scavenged still held a charge, letting Liam swap his hand-made torches for a flashlight. The real prize came from a locker in the engineering room. A waterproof GPS locator, built for just this kind of emergency.
There’d be no way to get a signal this far below deck, and that was even if the electronics could still function after so much time on a derelict ship. And yet, Liam dared to dream big. He swapped the batteries in his flashlight back out for the GPS, went to the nearest window for a better signal, and activated the power.
His heart skipped a beat. The screen flickered but for a moment before stabilizing. A few clicks passed the Chinese characters in what he could only assume was the update message, and Liam was back in business.
The screen went blank, and the little loading circle began to spin in the middle. And it spun. And spun. And spun. And right when Liam hit the cusp of certainty that it would never stop spinning, the screen darkened and the lights turned blue. There in front of his eyes, he could see a full maritime map, complete with longitude and latitude.
“Hah!” Liam laughed. “Looks like there are people out there after all, eh Thirsty?” He didn’t need to know much about computers to know that a GPS wouldn’t just work on its own. Of course his fears were ill-placed. How foolish had he been?
Buoyed by the discovery, Liam switched off the GPS for later use and continued to search the Xin. This day had taken an extraordinary turn for the better…
But then Liam thought he spotted another living human for a beat. Through the dust and grime on a nearby window, he caught the visage of a grown man with a long beard and streaks of grey throughout his hair. It wasn’t until he drew close that he realized his “window” was no more than a mirror, and the specter he had spotted was his own reflection. Closer still, and he could make out the familiar ridge of his nose and slant of his brow, but it had been distorted. His cheeks had grown gaunt, and his forehead was squeezed with wrinkles. Even his eyes had heavy bags below, and the deep, chestnut hue seemed to have faded after so much strain.
It was funny how effectively a man could deceive himself. When spotting his reflection in a pool, Liam had perverted his appearance into the image he wanted, of the strong survivalist celebrity still in his youth. But faced against the truth, there was no way out of it. He was staring into an old, frail stranger.
Not for the first time today, Liam blinked back the tears before they could spread. He still had more exploring to do, and there was too little time before returning to his raft would become impossible.
Liam pieced more of the Xin Yue Jiang’s puzzle back together to distract himself. One of the interior cargo holds had been sealed from the outside, and though it had not been initially apparent what the reason had been, some biohazard tape and the words ‘sick inside’ scrawled hastily on one of the bulkhead doors gave Liam his answer. The dangers of infections worsened when traveling in close quarters, and there could be no better breeding ground for an outbreak than an overpopulated ship at sea. At least the crew had done well to solve their problem before evacuating. Even if he’d had the desire to brave a quarantined room for medicine, the various bulkheads had been locked, if not fused outright.
“Looks like we have our answer, Thirsty,” Liam decided. “Our Chinese friends must have left in a hurry after discovering the outbreak. I just hope the passengers made it out without suffering too much damage.” He turned to leave.
The door thumped behind.
Liam paused. For a moment, he stood in silence, his eyes locked on the bulkhead door. Had he just imagined the noise?
The door thumped.
It can’t be. Liam swallowed the bile in his throat and leaned in.
Thump.
There was no denying it. This wasn’t just the ominous sound of an old vessel fighting against currents. It was a deliberate, precise pound, just on the other side of this door. Something was in there.
Thump.
“Now, that’s strange,” Liam said. “The, ah– cargo hold is most definitely sealed and… By the looks of the rust on the locks, I’d say it’s been that way for as long as everywhere else. There’d be no way for any type of creature to work its way above or below, at least not anything large enough for this kind of noise. So that leaves us with an important question.” He paused, his voice going somber as his usual showmanship failed. “How can anything still be alive back there?”
Thump.
A gurgling hiss followed. The hair raised on the back of Liam’s neck. What concerned him wasn’t the sound, but the source. He had climbed the Andes, traversed the Sahara, fought Siberian winters, lived in the Alaskan wild. He had survived in the most extreme conditions on every continent, and had more direct confrontations with predators of all stripes than any but a handful of others could say.
And yet, he had never heard any sound quite like this.
Thump.
“I think it’s about time we leave, Thirsty. We’ve gotten more than enough from here. We’d best get out of this place.”
Liam threw his luggage over his shoulder and moved to leave.
He needed to go far, far away.
