Dead Island

Chapter 6. THE SAFE PLACE

‘WE ARE HERE.’

Sinamoi, with Xian Mei in tow, had led them through the potentially treacherous resort on a circuitous route, avoiding the main thoroughfares where the tourists hung out and sticking to hidden paths and back alleys. Although Purna, Sam and Logan had followed him without question, Purna in particular had remained wary, constantly alert to the fact that, for whatever reason, their guide might be deceiving them or leading them into a trap. They had seen one or two zombies wandering about, but had managed to remain out of sight and undetected.

‘Very quiet now, but tomorrow this will not be good place,’ Sinamoi hissed at one point, after they had lain low for a couple of minutes while a clearly infected black man — scrawny, old and white-bearded — had shambled past, snarling and twitching.

They finally emerged from a winding, tree-shrouded path to find themselves on the main route down to the shore, though it was evident from the way the soughing of the waves had been growing steadily louder over the past ten minutes that this was where they had been heading. Purna half expected to see the lights of a boat twinkling out on the black water, ready to whisk them away, but instead Sinamoi led them to a grey one-storey building with barred windows, squatting on the dunes that overlooked the powder-white beach.

‘What’s this?’ she asked.

‘Lifeguard station,’ Sinamoi replied. ‘Very strong building. Very safe.’

‘How do we get in?’ Sam wanted to know.

Sinamoi grinned, reached into his pocket and produced a key. ‘I am lifeguard,’ he said.

He unlocked the door and they went inside. The station was well equipped with tables and chairs, a two-way radio and even a small camping stove. There was all-weather gear hanging on hooks on the wall, a metal first-aid box the size of a small suitcase and a camp bed in one corner.

Sam nodded at the camp bed. ‘You live here?’

Sinamoi laughed, as if Sam had made a joke. In his broken English he explained that one of the duties of the lifeguards was to stay in constant touch with the fleet of offshore fishing boats, which operated out of Moresby harbour. If a boat got into difficulties, it was the responsibility of whoever was on night-duty to alert the other lifeguards so that a rescue boat could be launched.

‘And it’s your turn now, huh?’ said Logan tiredly, looking drawn and exhausted.

Sinamoi nodded and grinned.

‘So who told you to come looking for us?’ asked Purna.

Sinamoi pointed at the radio, which was scratched and battered with chunky, old-fashioned knobs and dials, and headphones that looked as though they were held together with heavy-duty parcel tape. Happily crackling and buzzing away to itself, it looked like the sort of lash-up you only ever saw these days in old war movies.

‘Man on radio,’ he said. ‘He try to …’ He imitated holding a cell phone up to his ear.

‘To call us?’ said Sam.

‘Yes. But signal gone. So he call me. Much stronger signal. Promise me much money if I bring you here.’

‘Did he now?’ said Purna. ‘And did he say why he wanted you to bring us here?’

‘To keep you safe. Also he have message.’

‘What message?’

Sinamoi frowned. ‘He say go inland. Past jungle to other side of island. Go to prison island. Top of tower will be helicopter. It fly you away.’

‘Is that all he said?’ asked Sam.

Sinamoi nodded. ‘Yes. Except he try to call if he can.’ He mimed holding up a cell phone again.

Sam sighed. ‘You ever spoken to this guy before, Sinamoi?’

The lifeguard shook his head. ‘No.’

‘So you’ve no idea who he is?’

‘No. But he want to save you. So is friend, yes?’

‘I hope so,’ said Sam. He propped his weapon against the wall, pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down with a grunt. ‘Wish we knew who he was, though.’

Following his example, Purna and Logan also laid their weapons aside. Purna sat down too.

‘I’ve got a few ideas,’ she said.

‘Care to share them with the group?’

‘Sure. I could do with cleaning up a bit first, though, and we could all do with a drink. Need to keep our fluids up. Sinamoi, you got any water?’

The lifeguard nodded eagerly. Crossing the room, he pushed aside the all-weather gear to reveal a door, behind which was a tiny cubicle containing a primitive toilet and wash basin.

‘Much water. But this no drink.’ He put a hand on his stomach and stuck out his tongue, miming sickness. Then he crossed to the workbench on which the radio sat, knelt down, reached underneath it and dragged out a plastic, almost full five-litre water container. ‘This drink,’ he said.

As he poured water into a variety of chipped and grubby-looking mugs, Purna went into the toilet cubicle to clean up as best she could. Accepting a mug of water, Sam looked at Logan who was slumped against the wall. ‘You look wasted, man.’

‘I feel it,’ said Logan. Turning to Sinamoi, he flipped a thumb towards the camp bed and said, ‘Hey, mind if I crash a while?’

Sinamoi nodded vigorously. ‘Rest. Sleep.’ Then his brows beetled in concern. ‘You sick?’

‘Just tired,’ said Logan. ‘Lost some blood.’ He glanced at Sam, who was staring at him intently, and raised his right hand. ‘On my honour, man. It’s not the fucking virus. I’ve got no designs on your black hide.’

Unexpectedly Sam grinned. ‘Think you’d find my meat a little too refined for your palate anyway, white boy.’

Logan chuckled, trudged across to the camp bed and all but crumpled on to it with a groan.

‘You need medicine?’ said Sinamoi.

‘Sure,’ said Logan wearily. ‘I’ll take anything you got.’

Five minutes later, dosed up on painkillers, he was snoring quietly in the corner, mouth open. Sam, Purna, Xian Mei and Sinamoi were sitting around the table, hands curled not round mugs of water this time, but hot black coffee. Sam blew on his coffee before sipping it, then sat back with a sigh. Although he normally took his coffee with cream and sugar, he murmured, ‘Man, that’s the best cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted.’

Purna turned to Xian Mei, who so far had barely said a word. ‘So what’s your story?’ she asked.

Xian Mei looked defensive. ‘What makes you think I have one?’

Purna nodded at Sam, then over at Logan asleep in the corner. ‘I can see the connection between the three of us, but you’re the odd one out; the unknown quantity.’

‘You mean the blood drive?’ said Sam.

‘Yes. We’re all here because we gave blood and won ourselves holidays in Banoi. It therefore figures that our mysterious caller is something to do with the NBDC.’ She stared at Xian Mei, narrowing her eyes. ‘But who are you? His spy?’

Xian Mei tried not to react, even though the Australian girl had come startlingly close to guessing the reason she was here. Matching the girl’s intense stare with one of her own, she said firmly, ‘I’m nobody’s spy. Maybe I was included because I gave blood too.’

‘You did?’ said Sam, surprised.

‘In which part of the US?’ asked Purna.

Xian Mei shook her head. ‘Not in the US. In China.’

‘China?’ said Sam. ‘I thought this blood drive campaign was an American thing?’

Xian Mei shrugged. ‘There was one in China too. But it was organized by the Chinese government.’

‘Or at least, that’s what you were told,’ said Purna.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Sam.

‘Think about it. Logan got bit. Xian Mei got bit. We’ve both been sprayed with zombie blood, which means we’ve almost certainly ingested some — but none of us are infected.’

Sam frowned, assessing the implications of her words. ‘You mean we’re immune?’

‘Not only that, but the NBDC, or whoever’s behind this thing, knew we were immune before we came here. That’s the reason we are here. It’s not random chance. Our names weren’t drawn out of a hat. It’s because of our immunity.’

Sam’s eyes widened as the terrible truth dawned on him. ‘But that means …’

Purna nodded grimly. ‘It means that whoever sent us here knew about the virus before we arrived. It means they knew this was going to happen.’

Xian Mei shook her head. ‘No.’

Purna looked at her sharply. ‘What do you mean, no?’

‘I mean that whoever is responsible for us being here didn’t simply know that this was going to happen. That’s too much of a coincidence.’

‘Fuck, you’re right,’ said Purna.

‘You mean they did it deliberately?’ muttered Sam. ‘They created it?’

Both girls nodded in unison.

‘But why?’ Sam asked.

Xian Mei shrugged. ‘To use as a weapon? Biological warfare?’

‘Motherfuckers,’ snarled Sam. ‘So why throw us into the mix?’

‘As guinea pigs?’ suggested Purna. ‘To see how immune we really are? They’ve already got our blood, remember, so we’re expendable.’

‘The question is,’ said Xian Mei, ‘is our mysterious caller working for the people who put us here or working against them?’

‘So what we talking about here?’ asked Sam. ‘Rival governments?’

Purna spread her hands. ‘Who knows? Our guy could be appalled by the fact that we’ve been thrown into the lion’s den and is genuinely working in our best interests by trying to get us out, or he could be working for an enemy government who want to develop a vaccine from our blood in case the virus is used against them.’

‘Or maybe he has a different agenda entirely,’ suggested Xian Mei.

‘Whatever the reason, we’re being manipulated,’ said Purna. ‘Moved around like pieces on a chess board.’

‘So what do we do?’ Sam asked. ‘Go along with it?’

Purna looked at Xian Mei, who shrugged. ‘For the time being,’ Purna said. ‘I don’t see that we’ve got much choice.’

They fell silent for a moment, each of them wrapped in their own thoughts. Sinamoi, who had been following the exchange with apparently little comprehension, now said, ‘More coffee?’

All three nodded and he crossed the room to heat more water on the stove.

Making it sound less like a challenge this time, Purna looked at Xian Mei and said, ‘You still haven’t told us the full story. You’re not a hotel receptionist at all, are you?’

Xian Mei sighed. ‘Is it really that obvious?’

‘Blindingly,’ said Purna.

‘OK,’ said Xian Mei. ‘I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.’

Purna hesitated a moment, and then said, ‘Agreed.’

While Sinamoi made coffee, Xian Mei told Sam and Purna the truth about her father, and the Special Forces squad, and her ‘special assignment’. When she had finished she looked at Purna. ‘Your turn.’

Purna sighed and sat back, as though wondering how and where to start. Finally she said, ‘When I was sixteen, I joined the Sydney Police Department. Nothing to do with my dad. I just … I guess when I was growing up I didn’t see a whole lot of justice and I wanted to redress the balance. But being young, and female, and half Aborigine, and — I guess — a bit of a looker, I had to put up with a whole lot of shit. Not just sexism and racism — though there was plenty of both, believe me — but people thinking I was dumb or that I couldn’t handle myself, that I was a soft touch.’

She paused, as if reflecting briefly on her past, then she said, ‘So anyway, all that crap … it just made me stronger. I was determined to prove myself, to be just as tough as the guys around me, if not more so. I’d been in the police force … five years, I guess, when I was assigned to this child molestation case. It was a bad one —’ she barked out a harsh laugh — ‘I mean, when are they not, hey? But this one was really bad. Nine victims we knew of, ranging from seven to thirteen. High level of brutality … I won’t go into details. Anyway, we found the perp. The evidence was irrefutable. He was a twenty-two-year-old rich kid called Jeffrey Lucas. Heir to Lucas Industries, a big pharmaceuticals company. On the surface he was a normal kid — privileged background, good school record, no previous, plenty of friends, girlfriend … the works. But underneath —’ she shook her head — ‘a moral vacuum. I mean, seriously. He was worse than any sociopath I’ve ever come across. He knew he was doing wrong, he understood the concept of human pain and terror, but he just didn’t care. He hadn’t killed any of the girls he’d harmed, but he’d brutalized them so badly that … well, let’s just say that if any of them manage to live normal lives after what he did, it will be a major fucking achievement.’

She was breathing hard and made a concerted effort to compose herself before continuing. After ten seconds of silence, punctuated only by the constant buzz and crackle from the radio, she said, ‘And the thing is, if he’d been allowed to continue he would have killed someone eventually. There’s no fucking doubt in my mind about that.’ She waved a hand almost casually. ‘Anyway, we arrested him, built up a rock-solid case against him, brought him to trial … and the bastard got off. Basically he was legally untouchable because of his wealth and connections. Top-drawer lawyer, money changing hands, a few words in the right ear … whatever. Fact is, he got off and he laughed at us. He fucking laughed. He thought it was all just one big game. So I hounded him, followed him everywhere. I got told to lay off. And when I didn’t I was threatened; someone broke into my house and smashed it up. And then one night …’

Her voice tailed off. She licked her lips.

‘One night?’ prompted Sam.

‘I killed him. Shot him right through the eye.’ She looked at Sam almost fiercely. ‘Best fucking thing I’ve ever done.’

‘You caught him in the act?’ asked Sam.

‘No. I followed him. And when he was alone I killed him. Simple as that.’

‘You executed him,’ said Xian Mei.

Purna rounded on her. ‘You criticizing me for that?’

Xian Mei held up her hands. ‘Not at all. I would have done the same thing.’

Purna stared at her intently, as if trying to work out from her expression or the tone of her voice whether she really meant it.

‘So what happened then?’ Sam asked.

‘I lost my job. Everyone knew I’d killed the guy, but I made sure I left no evidence at the scene, so they couldn’t pin it on me. I was drummed out of the force quietly, pushed out the back door. Psychologically unfit for service.’

‘What about the guy’s family?’ asked Sam. ‘Didn’t they come after you?’

‘You know, I think in a way they were relieved. Jeffrey was an embarrassment to them, and a sexual scandal was the last thing they wanted. A family tragedy, though … that brings people together, doesn’t it? Engenders a lot of public sympathy. To them, it was better that Jeffrey was in the ground than in jail.’

‘So when did all this happen?’ Xian Mei asked.

‘Three years ago.’

‘And what have you been doing since?’

Purna pulled a face, as if confronted with a bad smell. ‘I’ve been working as a bodyguard for so-called VIPs in various war zones and politically unstable countries throughout the world.’

‘You make that sound bad,’ said Sam. ‘Like you a hooker or something.’

‘Maybe because that’s how I feel,’ Purna said. ‘I get a lot of work because, to be honest, fat, ugly, wealthy men like showing up with a pretty girl on their arm. It gives them a feeling of status, of power. And most people tend to assume that as well as protecting my clients I’m also fucking them, that it’s a double-whammy deal.’ She shook her head in self-disgust. ‘I make a lot of money, but I don’t mind admitting that what I do makes me feel dirty. I joined the police because I wanted to help those who couldn’t help themselves. But instead I’ve ended up as a servant of the rich and the spoiled … and sometimes that feels to me like Jeffrey Lucas has won, after all.’

‘You mustn’t think that,’ Xian Mei said firmly, ‘because it’s not true.’

‘She’s right, man,’ said Sam.

Purna smiled. ‘Thanks. But that doesn’t stop me hating myself sometimes.’

‘Yeah, well, I guess we all hate ourselves a little bit,’ Sam said.

Over in the corner Logan groaned and shifted in his sleep. They all glanced over at him and it was as if a spell had been broken, as if being reminded of their surroundings had snapped them back into the present.

‘So what do we do now?’ said Sam.

Purna frowned a little. ‘Why ask me? I’m not the leader.’

Sam spread his hands. ‘Hey, I was just throwing the question out. Far as I’m concerned, this is a democracy. But if you want my opinion …’

Both girls nodded.

Sam sighed and said, ‘Much as I’d like to stay here till this shit-storm blows over, I think the only way we gonna get rescued is if we rescue ourselves. Far as I can see, the two main things we gonna need are transport and proper weapons — preferably guns.’

Purna nodded. ‘And provisions — food and water.’

‘Medical supplies too,’ added Xian Mei.

Sam glanced up at one of the small barred windows. The glass was grimy but he could see the sky was lightening from black to a hazy, washed-denim blue.

‘In which case we should head out now before the world wakes up and we’re faced with more infected out there than we can handle.’

‘What about him?’ asked Xian Mei, nodding at Logan.

‘We’ll leave him here,’ said Purna. ‘He got bit pretty badly and needs to recover. It won’t do him or us any good to take him along.’

The three of them pushed back their chairs and stood up. Sinamoi, who had given the impression he had been following their discussion closely, now looked surprised. ‘Where you go?’

‘We need a car,’ Sam said, and mimed turning a steering wheel, ‘to do what the man says. Plus we need weapons.’ This time he mimed shooting a gun. ‘We gonna go look for some.’

Sinamoi looked concerned. ‘You not go. Dangerous.’

‘We got no choice,’ Sam said, spreading his hands.

Sinamoi held up a hand, finger pointing upwards. ‘Weapons. I got. You wait.’ Once again he dropped to his knees in front of the workbench supporting the radio and scrabbled underneath. He dragged out a battered cardboard box, the contents clinking together as they shifted. He indicated the box with a flourish, like a magician introducing his glamorous assistant. ‘You see?’

Inside the box was an assortment of knives and other tools that a lifeguard might need. There were several large, serrated diver’s knives, machetes for hacking aside foliage (and maybe, thought Sam, fighting off man-eating fish), a couple of crowbars with curved ends, and two stubby silver guns like the one Sinamoi had been wearing in his belt when he had first encountered them — and which Sam now realized were flare guns. Kneeling beside the box, he glanced across at his coat-hanger weapon, matted with now-dried gore, which was still propped against the wall, and wished it a silent goodbye.

‘Can we take some of this shit with us?’ he asked, looking at Sinamoi.

Sinamoi looked uncertain. ‘You not go.’

‘Your concern is touching,’ said Sam heavily, ‘but we got to. But we’ll be back to pick him up.’ He pointed at Logan.

Sinamoi was still shaking his head. Purna said, ‘I hate to burst your bubble, Sam, but I think he’s more concerned about the money he was promised than he is about us. He probably thinks if we go out there and get ourselves killed he won’t get paid.’

Sam considered a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of blue, red and orange bank notes. He held them out to Sinamoi.

‘Here you go, man. Plenty kina. You take it and we get to choose what we want from here.’ He indicated the weapons.

Sinamoi still looked uncertain. Sam pressed the money into his hand.

‘That’s all I got on me. OK?’

Sinamoi looked momentarily puzzled, then smiled. ‘OK.’

‘Cool,’ said Sam. He looked round and waved a hand at the box as if it was an open treasure chest. ‘Ladies, choose your weapons.’