The Storm Episode One

CHAPTER 7

  In spite of his heavy burden, it was incomparably easier, physically, to go up the internal staircase than down the external one. Outside, the waves, rain and wind were striving with all their might to throw anyone who dared stick his nose out into the sea. Nevertheless, the climb cost John a lot of mental effort.

  He involuntarily hunched up with every step he took. It seemed to him that his heavy tread could be heard all over the ship like the blow of a sledgehammer on an anvil. His imagination painted a terrifying picture of the unknown danger hidden somewhere deep within the huge ship waking up and tracking him by his footsteps. These bloodcurdling thoughts made him feel helpless against it, but overcoming his paralysing fear, he climbed the steps.

  Passing the deck where the galley was located, John watched the dog for his reaction. If there were someone in there, he would surely smell its scent and make it known. And indeed, at one point Rafael woke up from his dozy state and turned his nose towards the door. After taking several deep breaths, during which the nostrils of the dog’s black nose twitched, expanding and contracting, he lost interest. There was no-one in there. It seemed that John had imagined something when he looked in there earlier. How stupid, to get in such a state just because fear has a hundred eyes.

  In almost 20 years of seafaring, he had had to look danger in the eye more than once. On one occasion, the old man with the scythe had appeared about to take him, but changed his mind and postponed his visit till later. Today, he felt sure that Death was once again looking at him with empty eye sockets.

  John dismissed these oppressive thoughts. At moments when your fate hangs in the balance, you must not lose self-control. He had learned this lesson quite early on in his time at sea. Fear is one of the basic instincts, meant to mobilise all the forces of an organism to avert mortal danger. It helps quick action to be taken, snatching the organism out from under a blow, but it clouds the mind. It makes one act instinctively, predictably and illogically. You must not give in to its power.

  It was empty on the bridge. Everything was in its place, as it had been when he went outside. The cupboard containing the protective suits was open and its contents were lying alongside. Here John realised he had made a mistake.

  The open cupboard and the fact that one suit was missing showed at once that someone had put it on and gone outside. The few things he had hurriedly thrown out treacherously indicated the route, like the crumbs of Hansel and Gretel. Knowing where someone had gone made it easier to find him on the huge ship using the surveillance cameras. He must not allow fear to switch off his brain again...

  John went up to the console, lifted the satellite communications receiver and dialled the number of the operating company’s centre. The link was not working. This had happened before, admittedly not often, but today it could be deliberate sabotage rather than a breakdown. He then reached for the SOS button and even raised the glass that stopped it from being pressed unintentionally, but thought about it and stopped.

  Again he faced a dilemma. If there were strangers on the ship who had apparently kidnapped the entire crew, then if he activated the signal they would realise there were crew members on board who had escaped them. They would then search for him and, considering how far the ship was from land, not to mention the bad weather, they would have enough time to search every nook and cranny. They would find him long before help arrived.

  But if he did not send an SOS, it would be several more days before the control centre began worrying about why he had not communicated with them and send out a rescue crew. In that case, help would arrive even later, but he would not have revealed his presence and so would have a better chance of surviving until help arrived.

  While he bit his lip wondering what to do, a message appeared on the screen:

  8,414.5 kHz: SUBSCRIBER 15426-M CALLING

  John had not often had to use the short-wave communication, so he could not say from memory who was calling. He vaguely remembered that subscribers beginning with 15 had something to do with the meteorological service... Or was it the rescue service?

  For a second, he dared to hope that he had allies on board who had somehow managed to contact the mainland and report the emergency situation on the ship. He put the glass back over the SOS button and accepted the call.

  “Nordic Hope here.”

  At first he heard nothing but static, but then he could make out broken up parts of sentences in a female voice.

  “Good... Nordic... del Teide... warning... high activity...”

  He sighed in disappointment. Unfortunately, it did not promise any hope of a rescue, it really was some sort of meteorological service. But he could barely make out what they were saying...

  John put down the receiver and put on the headphones that were lying nearby. They completely covered his ears, cutting out extraneous sound perfectly. When communications were poor and it was difficult to understand what was being said at the other end, they were invaluable.

  “I hear you poorly. Repeat,” he said into the headphone mike.

  “Good day... Hope... intensive... storm...”

  The sound quality was awful. The voice barely broke through the crackle of static and noise. John strained to put the words together to make some kind of sense. It seemed they were warning about an approaching storm.

  He laughed, looking out through the panoramic windows to where the storm was raging, continually lighting up the sky with bright discharges of lightning. The rocking was so strong he could hardly stay on his feet. Thanks for the warning, we’d never have guessed.

  “Storm warning received,” he replied in a disappointed tone. “We are in the very centre of it. Gale force wind, much precipitation, thunder.”

  “No... front... magnetic...” The voice was lost in the ocean of static and he didn’t hear the end of it.

  Now he understood. The warning was not about atmospheric weather, but cosmic weather. It seemed that a magnetic storm was on the way or had already reached them. In recent years, cosmic weather had often caused breakdowns in navigation and communications. Now it was clear why the satellite communication was not working and why there was such a storm of static on the emergency frequency...

  “Magnetic storm, roger. When is the peak of intensity expected? What is the estimate of its duration?” John became immersed in the conversation, completely forgetting about everything else.

  “That’s right, magnetic... double peak... two weeks... take care...”

  The end of the sentence was again lost in static, but the sense was clear. Suddenly John remembered why he was on the bridge.

  “Roger. Listen, I want to report an emergency on board. An attack...”

  At that moment, Rafael tried to jump up, but weak from the analgesic still circulating in high concentration in his blood system, he fell back. John stroked his head, trying to calm him, but the dog kept scrabbling with his paws, trying to get out of the sling. Using all his strength, he managed to extricate himself. He was weak, but his weight shifted John’s centre of gravity forward, so it was hard for him to stay on his feet in the heavy seas.

  “What’s the matter with you?” John muttered. “Sit quietly!”

  He carefully gripped the dog’s paws, trying not to hurt him but to prevent him crawling out. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some sort of shadow approaching. Turning around, he saw a man in a mask swinging a fire axe at him. The next instant, John realised his mistake.

  By putting the headphones on to hear the voice more clearly, he had cut himself off from all sound on the ship. Someone had been quick to take advantage of this and had crept up on him from behind, with no fear of being heard. The sound of his footsteps had been completely drowned out by the noise of the storm raging outside, and the headphones had drowned out the rest.

  John’s legs bent of their own accord. He squatted down lightly and threw himself to one side. The headphones flew off his head. At the next moment, the steel axe came crashing down on the console. Knobs flew
in all directions. Sparks flared up among the broken glass and plastic. At that moment, half the control panel lights went out.

  If John had not reacted, he would have been hit on the head with the same force that had destroyed the console. He groped for the first heavy object that came to hand and stood up. Now they had changed places, and John was in the more favourable position, to the side of and behind the man with the axe.

  The attacker still had hold of his weapon, but it had got stuck in the cover of the console and he lost priceless moments trying to free it. John swung the piece of pipe in his hand and, with no compunction or fear of severely crippling another living human being, hit the attacker with all his might.

  The attacker instinctively drew in his head. Although John had aimed directly at it, the blow fell mainly on his shoulders, which absorbed most of the kinetic energy. The force of the blow was enough to make the attacker drop the axe, shriek and grab the back of his neck with both hands. He had not been knocked out, but it must have been painful all the same. John swung again and this time, the pipe was right on target. The man’s body shuddered and, a second later, he crashed to the deck.

  John had been in no doubt that he had hit the attacker hard enough to knock him out. Just as in baseball, when you hit a home run, you just know.

  The centre of the bridge, with the ship’s control console on it, was on a platform up several steps with an iron handrail on both sides. John grabbed the fallen foe by his legs and dragged him over to the steps. Then he ran to the cupboard, fetched some adhesive tape and bound the prone figure with it. He then taped him firmly to the rail.

  When he had finished, John checked his handiwork. Surely no-one would be able to escape from that on his own. The broad sticky tape was strong, and John had used a lot of it. No, the swine would not get away without outside help.

  The attacker was wearing a mask with cutouts for the mouth and eyes. The crew used such masks when they had to work outside in northern latitudes. John roughly pulled the mask up and off the wearer’s head.

  The face of the attacker now in front of him made him shudder, it was so unexpected.