Without warning

The disinfectant stung, but it was the least of Jules’s myriad hurts. She seemed to exist within a tornado of pain, of dull aches, and sharp, shooting agonies of bruised muscle and tortured bone. Apart from Mr Lee, who was smiling as he dabbed at the deep cut on her cheek, they had all taken damage during the fight with Shoeless Dan’s mob. Fifi had one arm in a sling and was limping from a flesh wound to her thigh.

The Chinaman finished up by gently pressing a thick bandage in place high on her wounded cheek and handing her a couple of blue capsules. The small pharmacy on the yacht had given up a treasure trove of sedatives and balms. ‘For the pain, Miss Julianne,’ he explained.

‘Thanks, Lee,’ she replied in a dry, cracked voice. Jules popped her pills and washed them down with a mouthful of gin and tonic, prepared for her by Fifi. ‘Would it be churlish, at this point, to remind everyone that a couple of hours ago Pete had Shoeless Dan tagged as a reliable chap and potential crew-mate?’

Fifi sniffed and shook her head. ‘He was always a fucking softie, was Pete. I loved him so much.’ Her face crumpled and she let herself go, releasing a high-pitched keening sound that turned into a series of wails and sobs.

‘It would be ungracious and beneath a lady of your breeding, Miss Julianne,’ said Lee, whose own face was a mask, carved from ancient teak.

Darkness had fallen outside, or a sort of darkness. It glowed with a noticeable red hue thrown off by the energy wave, which was now eighty nautical miles to their north, but still visible. The three survivors had bathed and changed after cleaning up the worst of the damage and bloodshed. While they were at it, they’d got rid of the remains of the former crew members too. It hadn’t been such a bad job, all things considered, compared to washing away the carnage of battle.

They’d wrapped Pete’s body in a blanket and stored him in one of the galley’s huge freezer units. He had once told Jules that if he ever bought it, he’d want his ashes scattered at an awesome surf break somewhere. Wouldn’t matter which one. Mavericks, Pipe, Margaret River… they were all good. Just as long as it was pumping when he took his last ride.

They had gathered in the upper salon, one of the magnificent yacht’s cosier, less formal spaces. A couple of olive-green two-seater lounges, hugely overstuffed and obscenely comfortable, sat around two sides of a giant brown ottoman. A pair of white single-seaters took up another side, where floor-to-ceiling bi-fold windows offered an expansive view of the sea far below. Jules had bathed and showered for two hours, to rid herself of the stink of the man she’d killed and the irrational guilt she felt at living when Pete hadn’t. A couple of hundred dollars’ worth of French toiletries had helped a little with the former, although she still felt as if some corruption had worked its way under her skin. And she knew she was going to be down about Pete for weeks. It was harsh, but she was more affected by his death than by the weird shit happening to the north.

She sipped at her drink, feeling lonely and abandoned, as she stretched out on the lounge and burrowed deeper into the waffle-weave bathrobe she’d found in one of the cabins. ‘You know what,’ she sighed, ‘Dan was always a bit of a maddy, but even he wouldn’t start a fight like that without good reason.’

‘He had good reason,’ said Fifi, who’d recovered some of her composure. ‘Fuckin’ Jane Austen on full volume. Drives me nuts when you play those vids, Julesy.’

Jules managed a sad smile. Fifi still held a grudge about having to sit through Sense and Sensibility with Julianne a while back. She’d thought they were seeing the sequel to Dumb and Dumber.

‘It’d make me go for the gun locker too. Stupid m… mo… motherfucker,’ she mumbled before lapsing back into tears.

Jules downed her drink in one long pull and stood up unsteadily, looking for the gin bottle. ‘I’m sorry about Pete,’ she said. ‘I’ll cry myself to sleep later, but we don’t have time to wallow. This Twilight Zone rubbish is going to upset the apple cart in the worst way possible, and it’s likely to happen very quickly. I suspect Dan was simply ahead of the curve. Well, him or someone who paid him. His operation didn’t normally run to go-fast boats and hired bandidos.’

‘Shoeless Dan always most unimpressive,’ declared Mr Lee as he cleared away the first-aid kit. ‘First I ever hear of him was of red-headed giant trying to sell stolen dog food to Vietnam criminals. Tried to say real dog in can. Vietnam tie bag of cans to Shoeless Dan and throw him in water. Only escapes because they cannot tie knot well.’