The Last Murder at the end of the World

ONE

Two rowboats float at world’s end, a rope pulled taut between them. There are three children in each with exercise books and pencils, listening to Niema deliver her lesson.

She’s at the bow of the boat on the right, gesticulating towards a wall of black fog that rises a mile into the air from the ocean’s surface. The setting sun is diffused through the sooty darkness, creating the illusion of flames burning on the water.

Thousands of insects are swirling inside, glowing gently.

‘… they’re held back by a barrier produced by twenty-three emitters located around the island’s perimeter …’

Niema’s lesson wafts past Seth, who’s the only person in either of the boats not paying attention. Unlike the children, who range in age from eight to twelve, Seth’s forty-nine, with a creased face and sunken eyes. It’s his job to row Niema and her students out here and back again when they’re done.

He’s peering over the edge, his fingers in the water. The ocean’s warm and clear, but it won’t stay that way. It’s October, a month of uncertain temper. Glorious sunshine gives way to sudden storms, which burn themselves out quickly, then apologise as they hurry away, leaving bright blue skies in their wake.

‘The emitters were designed to run for hundreds of years unless …’ Niema falters, losing her thread.

Seth looks towards the bow to find her staring into space. She’s given this same lesson every year since he was a boy and he’s never once heard her trip over the wording.

Something has to be wrong. She’s been like this all day, seeing through people; only half listening. It’s not like her.

A swell brings a dead fish floating by Seth’s hand, its body torn to shreds, its eyes white. More follow, thudding into the hull one after another. There are dozens of them, equally torn apart, drifting out of the black fog. Their cold scales brush against his skin and he snatches his hand back inside the boat.

‘As you can see, the fog kills anything it touches,’ Niema tells her students, gesturing to the fish. ‘Unfortunately, it covers the entire earth, except for our island and half a mile of ocean surrounding it.’