Titanic 2020: Cannibal City

7 Wounded

It was the pain that woke her. Claire opened her eyes in the darkness and instinctively tried to rub some ease into her arm. She immediately let out a yelp. What had she done to it... ? Come to that, where was she? Why was she so cold and damp . . . ? Who switched off the lights? She felt around her with her good hand — soft . . . twigs . . . a reassuring smell of pine — the forest! She tried to tidy her jumbled thoughts together — The last thing . . . the last thing I remember... oh, my God . . . the minister. . . !

I'm shot, I've been shot!

Adrenaline coursed through her veins.

She desperately tried to catch her breath.

No . . . wait. . . wait . . . calm . . . don't panic . . . I'm alive . . . I'm still alive . . .

Claire carefully turned her injured arm so that she could see her watch, and pressed a button on the side to illuminate the face . . .

Six o'clock!

They'd been hurrying to meet the boat for four o'clock!

They were two hours late!

They . . .

Jimmy!

She remembered now! The gunshot, the incredible pain in her arm and then stumbling off the path and running as hard as she could. Then she'd fallen and didn't have the strength to get up again. She'd heard the minister calling out to Jimmy and then more gunshots.

A terrible feeling of dread swept over her.

Jimmy's dead!

Her best friend in the whole world — even though she'd hated him — was dead.

She immediately followed that with: No, I don't know that! Not for sure. Jimmy's a survivor, he'll find a way to survive. He's probably back on the ship already, writing up the story for the paper.

He probably hasn't given me a second thought.

Nobody has.

They think I'm dead! They've sailed on!

No! They're looking for me .. . they MUST be looking for me — but if Jimmy's dead . . . how will they know where to look?

Claire peered into the darkness — but there was nothing to see. If the minister was still out there then he could surely no more see her than she could see him.

She gingerly touched her arm again, and the pain of it caused her to momentarily black out. Her head fell back and cracked on the trunk of a tree. It was enough of a shock to jolt her back to consciousness.

This isn't good . . . this isn't good . . .

Oh my, oh my, oh my — I've been left behind! Jimmy's dead! I'm going to die! Small furry animals are going to find my body and eat me! Help! Help! Helllll—

No! Get a grip!

Calm down . . . calmer. . . think sensibly . . . If I was going to die, I wouldn't have woken up. I'm OK — for now . . . but if the minister doesn't find me, then I'll probably bleed to death. I have to get out of here . . .

She took several long, deep breaths to steady herself, but they just made her feel woozy. She rested her head more carefully back against the tree. Her eyes were drawn upwards — it was dark on the forest floor but there was still some light up there above the trees.

Which way to go?

Back to Tucker's Hole? They can radio the ship! But what if the ship is out of range already? Or the minister is there?

And I've no idea which direction the village is in. I must have lost a lot of blood — how long can I walk for? If I get lost in the woods . . .

She pulled and pulled at the arm of her shirt until finally the material ripped. She wrapped it around her wound and used her teeth to pull it as tight as the pain would allow.

East. I have to go east.

I have no idea where the rendezvous point is from here, but I know the coast is east. If I can strike the coast then there's some small chance someone might spot me.

And if they don't. . .

Claire forced herself up. She leaned against the tree, steadied herself, then cautiously let go. She was dizzy, her legs felt like lead and her arm — well . . . she'd been shot.

She had no choice but to start walking.

She had to . . . go . . . now. . .

The emergency rendezvous point was at a short stretch of beach a mile from the rivermouth where Tucker's Hole had been built. First Officer Jeffers stood on the sand, scanning a tree line that stretched as far as the settlement on his right, and then as far as the eye could see to his left. He glanced at his watch. It was now three and a half hours past pick-up time and it was almost completely dark. He was certain that something pretty terrible had happened to Claire and Jimmy.

His radio crackled.

'Mr Jeffers? Stanford here. Anything to report?'

Jeffers took a deep breath. Claire's father had been on the radio every ten minutes since she'd been reported missing. His desperate concern was understandable, and Jeffers was frustrated that he'd no positive news for him.

'Mr Stanford, sir, just waiting on the patrols returning. But it's almost pitch black in the forest now, sir.'

'I understand that. What about this settlement — Tucker's. . . ?'

'Tucker's Hole, sir. Sent two patrols in. Nothing there either.'

'Did you search thoroughly, Mr Jeffers?'

'We searched every building. As I told you earlier, sir, some kids thought they saw them going off into the forest and then . . .'

'Gunshots.'

'Yes, sir. It doesn't mean—'

'I know what it means, Mr Jeffers.' There were several long moments of radio static. 'I know you'll do your best, Mr Jeffers. She's a headstrong girl, but we do love . . .' His voice faltered, and what he had intended to say remained unspoken.

'We're doing everything we can, sir.'

There was another burst of static and then Captain Smith spoke, his voice calm and authoritative. 'Mr Jeffers, you may give it another ten minutes, then call off the search for the night. We will resume at first light.'

'Yes, Captain.'

Thirty minutes later, with the patrols returned and no sign of Claire or Jimmy, First Officer Jeffers reluctantly gave the order to reboard the inflatables and return to the ship. He knew that the more time passed the less likely it was that they'd be found alive. This new world was dangerous, and particularly dangerous for knuckle-headed, rebellious kids like Claire and Jimmy.

'All aboard, sir.'

Jeffers splashed through a metre or so of water and climbed into the hi-tech, high-speed boat. 'Very well — let's take her back to Titan—'

But he was suddenly interrupted by one of the crewmen crying out: 'Look, sir! There!'

All eyes turned to where the sailor was pointing — about half a mile away along the beach a small figure had emerged from the tree line and was hurrying towards them — albeit in an odd zigzag pattern. With an overcast sky and no moonlight it was impossible in the darkness to make out whether it was Claire or Jimmy or just one of the locals, running along the beach.

'Well spotted, Martin! Cut engines! Dalzell, bring the flashlight!'

Jeffers threw his legs over the side of the inflatable and waded back to shore, quickly followed by half a dozen others. He began to jog along the sand. Ahead of him the dark figure weaved off to one side before abruptly falling to the ground. Jeffers picked up his speed and seconds later slid to a halt beside . . .

'Flashlight!'

Dalzell appeared behind him, gasping for breath, and flicked on the torch.

It was a girl, for sure, but it was several moments before Jeffers realised it was Claire. Her face was a mass of cuts and scratches, as if she'd been dragged through bushes. Her hair was hanging dank across her face and her clothes were badly torn.

'Claire?'

Jeffers gently pushed the damp hair away from her eyes. He softly shook her arm — she winced in pain and let out a moan. He took the flashlight from Dalzell and shone it on her arm — then gasped as he saw the wound and the dirt surrounding it. He cursed himself for not insisting that Dr Hill remain ashore until the search was over. He began to check her pulse.

'Stretcher!' he snapped.

'Got it, sir!' Martin was already snapping open a foldable stretcher.

'Let's get her back to the ship! Dalzell! Call Dr Hill, have him standing by!'

'Sir!'

The stretcher was laid on the sand, and they were just preparing to lift Claire on to it when she opened her eyes. With her good arm she reached vaguely out in Jeffers' direction. 'Please . . . Jimmy . . . you have to find . . . Jimmy . . .' Her voice was barely audible. Her eyes rolled back in her head. 'Please . . . Jimmy . . . Babe . . . I'm not . . . talking . . . to . . . him . . .'

Jeffers took her hand. 'It's OK Claire, we're taking you home.'

He stood back then and gave his crew the signal to lift the stretcher. The Titanic was less than a mile off shore. He had absolutely no idea if she'd still be alive when they got there.