Life Goes On by Tayell, Frank (large ebook reader txt) 📗

“I can give you a hand with that,” Zach said.

“Um… you’re volunteering to help clean?” Sullivan asked.

“You’ll finish twice as quick,” Zach said. “If that’s all right, boss?”

“Permission granted,” I said.

“She joined our table for breakfast,” Clyde said after the pair, and Nicko, had gone. “To be strictly accurate, Zach joined hers, and we joined him.”

“She’s something to do with the helicopter crew?” I asked.

“And she’s the ship’s librarian,” Clyde said. “Something of a ship’s mascot, too. Saved the commander’s life during a fire, then refused a promotion because she was simply doing her duty. She asked permission to take over the library instead.”

“Good luck to Zach,” I said, and opened an oat-bar. “So how did plastic explosives end up mixed in with syringes?”

“Best I can tell, this was a temporary crew,” Clyde said. “The refit was rushed, and the ship was rushed back to sea out of political stupidity. While it was in dock, it was an accounting liability, but if it was at sea, it became an asset. Then came the outbreak. The more experienced hands were sent to command the fuel-freighters. A month on high alert, and standards slipped. But the captain now wants to make space for the injured when we get to Cape Town. She wants to prepare for the worst.”

20th March

Chapter 15 - Radio Free England

After three nights aboard, I’ve begun to fill my days with routine. Breakfast with my team, dinner with the captain. The rest of my time is spent helping move boxes, and in checking up on Dr Avalon. Today, I found her watching videos, though with the sound off.

“Have your headphones broken?” I asked.

“Most of these have no sound,” she said, moving the laptop around so I could better see the screen.

“That’s a zom attack,” I said.

“In Manhattan,” she said. “That coffee shop is where I used to wait for Leo. They did a passable croissant loaf.”

“Never had one of those. What’s it like?”

“As it sounds,” she said. “I dislike waiting on others, particularly if I’ve been summoned from a different continent. I cannot abide an inconsistent application of urgency. That is where I would wait until Leo said it was time.” She pressed the space bar with a forceful display of anger. Unusual for her. As was her giving an explanation of her past behaviour. But aboard this ship, we’ve all found ourselves with time to think and to tally what we’ve lost.

“Where did you get the video?” I asked as, on-screen, a customer pushed open the doors. She fell to her knees, and was abruptly tugged back inside, out of sight.

“It’s one of the clips uploaded before the internet collapsed,” Avalon said. “Leo gathered all that he could.”

“Watching them isn’t good for your mental health,” I said.

“I’m watching them to narrow down the location where the outbreak began,” she said. “We know it was Manhattan, and it can’t be far from the U.N. building. I have a few theories, but those won’t be enough when we get there.”

“If we get there,” I said. “I don’t know if we’ll even get to Colombia.”

“If we don’t, these videos will be the only evidence we have,” she said.

Talking with Dr Avalon is like talking to a drunk witness; it takes a lot of patience, and even more thought, to tease out some sense. But before I could formulate a new plan of verbal attack, a rat-a-tat was knocked on the door.

“Teegan said you’d be here, boss,” Zach said, pushing it open a cautious fraction.

“That’s nice of her,” I said. “Are you looking for me?”

“Not me,” he said. “I’m mega-busy, but the captain wants you on the bridge.”

“Zachary!” Avalon said, closing the laptop. “Your assignment is overdue.”

“You were being serious about that?” Zach asked.

“Of course,” Avalon said.

“What assignment?” I asked.

“The first part of his coursework for his degree,” Avalon said.

“At which university?” I asked.

“Whichever I decide to teach at when we return to Australia,” Avalon said. “I see no reason he can’t get ahead of his studies.”

“Yeah, actually, maybe you could help, boss,” Zach said.

“With your homework? Sorry, but you did say the captain needed to see me,” I said.

Life goes on. In weird and odd ways that sometimes seem like nothing more than getting from morning to night. But it does. We find ways of occupying our days, as we search for ways of filling them with joy. Although I’m not sure whether Zach will be getting much joy out of being Avalon’s pet student.

Leo was on the bridge, wearing headphones, and scrolling through radio frequencies. The crew were at their screens, but the captain was in her chair.

“Commissioner, thank you. We’re between Durban and Port Elizabeth,” Captain Adams said. “But I’ve cut our speed.”

“Have we picked up a distress call?” I asked.

“Not as such. These are rough waters, near the Cape. Ships with power, or sails, would have sought calmer waters, while those without would sadly not last long. No, there is a radio signal. It’s coming from land, and it’s not a distress call. We made good time to Durban. I’ve taken us out to sea.”

The captain has a deliberately split personality. The few times I’ve been alone with her, she’s spoken as a colleague, an equal. It’s not surprising. She’s only a few years older than me. We’re both at a similar level in similar professions, which are dissimilar enough that we’re neither rivals or subordinates. But when she’s within earshot of her crew, she reminds me a little of Dr Avalon in that she skips a good portion of the explanation, leaving you to fill in the blanks. With Avalon, it’s because her mouth can’t keep up with her brain. With Captain Adams, it’s the self-censorship of