‘Reg. Reg. Reg. Reg. Reg…’
Putner tore the headset off and threw it at the cot bed. He stared at the castoff headphones but it was like after he had had an extremely long session on a set – it was as though he could still hear the voices chattering and bickering away in his ears; ghosts in the ears.
He stared at the radio set and lit a fresh smoke. He sat down on the cot bed. Maybe I just need a bit of kip and then get back to it? He smoked the cigarette down quickly and then stubbed it out before tucking the lumpy pillow behind him and leaning back on the cot.
‘Where first?’ asked Snell.
‘The deck,’ replied Connelly. ‘Could be he wanted to feel the wind on his face one last time.’
Amelia took the lantern and Connelly took the lead. Keeping his pistol at the ready Snell brought up the rear.
Noise and lashing rain assailed them as soon as the bulk head door was open. The rain blew in on them in sheets that struck exposed flesh like bird shot. Connelly hugged the wall and Amelia got herself into his wake to shelter from the wind as best she could. Once he had the door shut Snell ducked low and followed, pausing only to push his pistol into his pocket where he hoped it would be safe from the elements. The filth on the deck had combined with the rain to make the surface as slippery and treacherous as walking across a greased pole at a fairground. They stepped gingerly but the deck shifted beneath them as the Shinjiku Maru rode the sea like a novice rodeo rider on the back of a bucking bronco. The waves were even darker than the sky and they hurled the powerless ship about with a furious anger, Neptune’s wrath brought to bear.
‘Up the ladder and we check the areas above,’ Connelly shouted over the wind before turning and stepping onto the first rungs of the ladder that led up. He scrambled up, accustomed to the bad conditions; he had seen worse.
Amelia grabbed onto a rung and tried to grip the next with the hand that held the lantern. As she went to step onto the ladder the ship tilted suddenly and her weight was thrown back. The hand holding the lantern lost its grip and suddenly Amelia found herself gripping the ladder one handed – all her weight held by her hold on a wet rung. Connelly came back down at speed, seemingly as agile as a Barbary ape despite the slippery surfaces, and grabbed her wrist.
‘I’ve got you. Give it a moment and the ship will right herself.’
The fear subsided in the young nurse and she was glad of the strong, vice-like, grip of Connelly around her wrist. The Shinjuku Maru suddenly righted and Connelly took the lantern from Amelia and they completed their ascent as Snell began his.
‘Bloody bitch tried to throw me off!’
Connelly laughed. Amelia’s cheeks were red and flushed.
‘We’ll have you talking like an old salt yet.’
She joined in with his laughter. A moment later Snell got up onto the deck.
‘I can’t believe that Collins could be out in this, not in his condition.’
‘Agreed. Let’s check these rooms anyway, never know what we might find.’
‘Let’s check the wheelhouse and then get out of this bloody weather. We can keep an eye open for other things while we search for Collins.’
They picked their steps carefully and made their way to the wheelhouse. Connelly stuck his head inside. Nothing looked to have moved since they had rifled through the room earlier. He turned to Snell and shook his head.
‘He isn’t in there. Let’s check the other rooms up here.’
Back in the mess, silence reigned broken only occasionally by the crash of waves beyond the port holes. Lily sat and watched Conrad who sat with his head in his hands further down the mess table. She watched him but he did not once look up. He didn’t even reach for a cigarette which was strange for him; as long as Lily had known him if he didn’t have anything else to do with his hands then you could guarantee that he would busy them with lighting and smoking a cigarette.
‘Penny for ‘em?’
He remained with his face pressed into his palms.
‘It can’t be all that bad, we got out of that lifeboat, didn’t we?’
Still no answer.
‘Come on, Connie, I’ve never been one for letting a bloke give me the silent treatment and you’ve never been that type.’
His face turned out of his hands.
‘What did I tell you about calling me that?’
‘Now, don’t start on that again – I’ve called you that since nineteen bloody forty!’
‘What did I tell you? I didn’t like it then and I sure don’t like it any more now.’
‘Maybe you should have said something back then then, Connie.’
Lily knew she was baiting him but anything was better than the cold silence that had reigned previously. He half came up from his sitting position and Lily followed suit her small hands clenching into fists.
‘Don’t even think about it. I’ve laid bigger men than you on their arses.’
Warner glared at her but didn’t make a further move towards her.
‘Oh, Lily. Lily, dear. If only you knew what there is in store for you,’ his sad countenance split into an awful parody of a grin. ‘The things they have been asking me to do to you… and me? Me, I’ve been sitting here telling them to shut up but you have to poke at me, don’t you? Like a kid with a rotten tooth – you just can’t help sticking your tongue in it.’
He reached for a cigarette then and Lily almost smiled.
‘Who’s telling you things? What the hell is happening to us?’
‘Hell sounds about right, or maybe something much worse than that,’ replied Warner as he shook his head as though trying to shake clear a fugue. ‘God, I could do with another drink.’
He settled instead on getting up and taking a deep draught of water from the communal pot. While Warner’s back was turned Lily picked up a short bladed knife that Hamilton had left on the worktop and slid it up her sleeve. She stubbed out her cigarette and continued to watch Warner.
Through dark corridors, Busby and Hamilton headed for the radio room. Hamilton threw a look back at Busby and was glad of the big man with him and the axe that he carried. Hell, he wouldn’t want to run into Busby in a dark place and he knew the man.
‘Alright?’ Busby asked Hamilton and the cook nodded in response.
‘Think I just got a touch of the heebie-jeebies.’
‘Your lot get the shivers more than most. Ghoster’ll do that to you.’
Hamilton ignored Busby’s first comment and then replied.
‘You been on one before?’
‘Yes, over in your neck of the woods.’
‘My neck of the woods?’
‘Aye, in the Caribbean it was, Yank marines guarding the factories on account of the rebels and bandits. We were running bananas back to the states for United Fruit. A day out the Captain spotted a ship, drifting like. Me and three others got sent over for a gander. Took a jolly boat and rowed ourselves over. Strange feeling being on that ship adrift, everything left like the crew had just nipped off about other duties but they were nowhere to be found. I got the same feeling I’m getting here – got my hackles up.’
‘Yeah, same here. Something real strange about this tub.’
‘Hold up, is that the room?’
‘Where the light’s showing? Yeah, that’s the radio room.’
‘Alright, let’s get Reg and head back.’
Hamilton pushed the door open. The room was in disarray; the chair overturned, blanket and sheet tossed from the cot, the radio smashed open and its innards spread across the desk.