Salby (Book 2): Salby Evolution by Ian D. Moore Page B
Authors: Ian D. Moore
Tags: Zombies
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sip the barely warm beverage.
“Well? Are you able to share?”
“Russian authorities at the Port of Murmansk have picked up the freighter. They think it’s unmanned, or rather, there’s no one aboard alive. According to intelligence, the vessel carries bulk grain and has already entered the port breakwater. We need to be ready to move on this. If they don’t sink it, it’ll make landfall directly into the harbour in under an hour. Charles has arranged transport for us and will be sending a car. We need to be ready to move. Go get Stewey, brief him on the basics, we’ll need him. One of our UK operatives will supply the kit we’re likely to need, so pack light, Sergeant.”
“Shit. That bad, huh? Okay, I’m on it,” Nathan responded.
“Oh, and Nate?” Evie added, “I love you.”
Nathan smiled and came to her for a kiss. “Remind me to think twice before I take a holiday with you again, will you?”
*****
With Stewey briefed and his very perplexed and annoyed wife close behind asking numerous, unanswerable questions, the three of them packed ready to travel. Sure enough, true to his instructions, Charles sent a large, black car to collect them from the hotel steps.
Arrangements were made for Alisa to return to the UK, which didn’t do to appease her dark mood. Stewey looked at Nathan, and then at Evie and nodded his understanding. He turned to his wife, whispered in her ear, and kissed her goodbye.
The three of them sat in the car in silence as it drew away from the hotel. The scenery passed by quickly and changed from holiday resorts, hotels dotted on every available piece of flat land, to steep, barren gradients, which opened out into long stretches of recently laid motorway. The heat of the morning, made bearable by the over-worked air-con of the vehicle, ensured that the hour-long race to the one and only airport on the island offered at least some comfort. Upon arrival, the car took an off-limits route towards the service areas of the terminal to be greeted by two black-suited men, apparently oblivious to the Mediterranean sun. Both wore dark glasses and could have been twins, Nathan noted. The formal introduction was short and to the point.
“I’m Gladstone, this is Portman, follow me,” the darker-haired of the two men instructed.
10 – Ship in the Night
Port of Murmansk, Russia, 25 th June 2014. 2300 hours, present day.
“ Baltic Wanderer you are entering the shipping lanes and breakwater. Reduce speed now. Baltic Wanderer , Captain are you receiving me? Acknowledge immediately, over!” the wall-mounted speaker announced.
Deep in the cargo hold of the vessel, I opened my eyes to the relayed sounds of the radio hails and searched to find my bearings. The icy fingers I remembered so vividly were gone, as was the acute pain from my torn thigh. I flexed and stretched my arms and legs, unsure of just how long I’d been out. Slowly, I stood, greeted by a smell that made me choke back bile—the odour of death. My clothes, caked in indistinguishable muck, hung loosely from my undernourished frame. I felt as if was starving, though a quick check revealed that while I’d lost some weight, I was by no means so. My senses were not only keen to noise, but also to movement and I whirled to my left when a sound alerted me to another’s presence.
You, fight? Since when? You’d rather stoke up on JD than tackle anything that actually required effort!
Fists clenched, ready to defend, I moved towards the sound. I heard a whimper, almost a cry, accompanied by a scratching of some kind. Only when I was almost on top of her did I see Barbie, cowered so tightly into a corner and surrounded by grain. Her clothes were covered in bloodstains, the uniform of the store unrecognisable under the crimson mire. She didn’t seem to be aware of my presence, even as I bent towards her.
“Barbie? Hey, are you in there?” I offered.
There was no reply, she didn’t even look at me. It was as if she
“Well? Are you able to share?”
“Russian authorities at the Port of Murmansk have picked up the freighter. They think it’s unmanned, or rather, there’s no one aboard alive. According to intelligence, the vessel carries bulk grain and has already entered the port breakwater. We need to be ready to move on this. If they don’t sink it, it’ll make landfall directly into the harbour in under an hour. Charles has arranged transport for us and will be sending a car. We need to be ready to move. Go get Stewey, brief him on the basics, we’ll need him. One of our UK operatives will supply the kit we’re likely to need, so pack light, Sergeant.”
“Shit. That bad, huh? Okay, I’m on it,” Nathan responded.
“Oh, and Nate?” Evie added, “I love you.”
Nathan smiled and came to her for a kiss. “Remind me to think twice before I take a holiday with you again, will you?”
*****
With Stewey briefed and his very perplexed and annoyed wife close behind asking numerous, unanswerable questions, the three of them packed ready to travel. Sure enough, true to his instructions, Charles sent a large, black car to collect them from the hotel steps.
Arrangements were made for Alisa to return to the UK, which didn’t do to appease her dark mood. Stewey looked at Nathan, and then at Evie and nodded his understanding. He turned to his wife, whispered in her ear, and kissed her goodbye.
The three of them sat in the car in silence as it drew away from the hotel. The scenery passed by quickly and changed from holiday resorts, hotels dotted on every available piece of flat land, to steep, barren gradients, which opened out into long stretches of recently laid motorway. The heat of the morning, made bearable by the over-worked air-con of the vehicle, ensured that the hour-long race to the one and only airport on the island offered at least some comfort. Upon arrival, the car took an off-limits route towards the service areas of the terminal to be greeted by two black-suited men, apparently oblivious to the Mediterranean sun. Both wore dark glasses and could have been twins, Nathan noted. The formal introduction was short and to the point.
“I’m Gladstone, this is Portman, follow me,” the darker-haired of the two men instructed.
10 – Ship in the Night
Port of Murmansk, Russia, 25 th June 2014. 2300 hours, present day.
“ Baltic Wanderer you are entering the shipping lanes and breakwater. Reduce speed now. Baltic Wanderer , Captain are you receiving me? Acknowledge immediately, over!” the wall-mounted speaker announced.
Deep in the cargo hold of the vessel, I opened my eyes to the relayed sounds of the radio hails and searched to find my bearings. The icy fingers I remembered so vividly were gone, as was the acute pain from my torn thigh. I flexed and stretched my arms and legs, unsure of just how long I’d been out. Slowly, I stood, greeted by a smell that made me choke back bile—the odour of death. My clothes, caked in indistinguishable muck, hung loosely from my undernourished frame. I felt as if was starving, though a quick check revealed that while I’d lost some weight, I was by no means so. My senses were not only keen to noise, but also to movement and I whirled to my left when a sound alerted me to another’s presence.
You, fight? Since when? You’d rather stoke up on JD than tackle anything that actually required effort!
Fists clenched, ready to defend, I moved towards the sound. I heard a whimper, almost a cry, accompanied by a scratching of some kind. Only when I was almost on top of her did I see Barbie, cowered so tightly into a corner and surrounded by grain. Her clothes were covered in bloodstains, the uniform of the store unrecognisable under the crimson mire. She didn’t seem to be aware of my presence, even as I bent towards her.
“Barbie? Hey, are you in there?” I offered.
There was no reply, she didn’t even look at me. It was as if she
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