Noah's Ark: Contagion Read Online Free PDF

‘raft.’ He had no idea why a raft would cause such confabulation, and neither did he care. People were outside, and that meant help was at hand.
    “Help me! Please, somebody help me!” he shouted as loud as he could, expecting assistance to burst through the door any second.
    Nobody came.
    Whatever this raft business was about, it was holding the attention of anyone and everyone who might possibly hear his cries. Doors were banging as people returned to their cabins, or went back outside to see what the fuss was about. He feared that he didn’t have long before the corridor would once again fall quiet. With a firm grip on the arms of the chair in which he was seated, he pulled himself forwards until he tumbled out and came crashing to the floor. The deep blue carpet was designed more to last the wear and tear of a thousand pairs of feet than for comfort, or soft landings, and Scott knew he’d have bruises in the morning. He tried pushing himself onto his hands and knees, but his legs refused to respond. Spurred on by the decreasing sound level, he thrust his arms out ahead of him and began to pull himself along the floor, legs dragging uselessly behind him.
    “Erica? Andrea? Someone? Anyone! Help me, please help me! I’m in cabin 849. Please, help!”
    The room wasn’t much bigger than the two beds which dominated it, and although Scott had felt a flush of disappointment upon first entering it at the beginning of the cruise, now he was thankful for its diminutive proportions. Still hauling himself forwards by his fingertips, he soon made it to the door. He reached up and found the chrome handle. The door fell open, and with a grunt he heaved his way through.
    The hallway was quieter but there were still people milling about. Passengers were exchanging theories and stories about other survivors. Scott wasn’t interested in listening though, he was crying out urgently, waiting to be noticed.
    “Please! Someone help me!”
    “Gosh, do you think that man has had too much to drink?” he heard a young woman say.
    “I’d like to know where he got it if he has. I’m sick of orange juice and desalinated seawater!” another voice replied, provoking a chorus of agreement.
    “Daddy! What’s wrong?”
    Scott heard his daughter’s voice cut through the hubbub, but couldn’t see her. Then an elderly couple were pushed apart, and Erica burst through the crowd, running towards him.
    “What’s wrong, Daddy? I’m scared! What’s wrong?”
    “It’s okay, my angel, daddy’s just a bit sick. I need you to be a big, brave girl for me. I need you to find the doctor. One of these people will help you,” he said, raising his voice, the people around no longer able to ignore the scene playing out on the floor.
    “Help my daddy! Somebody help my daddy!” Erica shrieked. The sound of the stricken child finally provoked action, and within seconds a crowd had rallied around to assist Scott at last.
    • • •
    “What do you mean empty? How could it be empty? Where did they go? I don’t understand!”
    “Calm down, Lucya, take it easy.” Jake put his hand on her shoulder gently, but she shrugged it away. Their recent relationship was no secret, but they made a conscious effort to try and remain professional while working. Surrounded by other members of the committee was not a suitable environment for displaying affection, although that hadn’t been Jake’s intention anyway.
    “I am calm! Sorry, it’s just…I thought there were more survivors, that it was a sign things were not as bad as we thought.”
    “It’s okay, Lucya, we all feel the same way. Well, those of us who knew about this last minute rescue operation,” Martin said looking at Jake pointedly.
    “As an emergency, my understanding is that the bridge crew has the authority to act without needing to convene the committee,” Jake said defensively.
    He looked around the table at the others on the committee, the recently created group of representatives