Chapter 34

Paul climbed into the crane’s control cab, waving the flare about and then discarding it as it sputtered and died. It was a tight squeeze for a man his size, but once he got into the seat he was fairly comfortable. The clinging insects had mostly abandoned him and the few that fluttered around inside the plexiglass box were of little concern at this point.

With the flick of several switches he brought the crane to life. Lights flared in the dark. The swarm of insects surged toward them.

Raising the boom launched another throng of the angry insects. Rotating the crane to the right did likewise. At this point, Paul could see almost nothing beyond the small cab he occupied, but that didn’t much matter anymore. He had no intention of being careful. In fact his plan was to cause as much chaos as possible without damaging the ship.

He extended the boom and let out some cable, lowering the hook. With a short turn to one side the hook swung around and clanged against the hull of the ship. The reverberation echoed with the sound of a hundred drums. A flock of the insects thick enough to walk on launched themselves from the stern.

Pivoting around, Paul swung the hook in the other direction. He missed everything, let out more line, and then tried again. This time the hook smashed through the ship’s rail and slammed against the superstructure.

Another epic bang rang out.

Paul couldn’t tell, but he was winning the battle.

He brought the boom back across the top of the superstructure, knocking things over in the process. This swipe took out the radar mast and the collection of antennae atop the high point of the superstructure.

Despite the unintended destruction, this hit brought the first true sign that his plan was working. A pair of high-intensity lights ahead of the radar housing were unveiled as the coating of pests fled from the pounding assault. Light filtered through the swarm, enough for Paul to aim his next strike. He centered the crane and raised it over the top of the wheelhouse. Reeling in some cable and then releasing it allowed the hook to drop like an anchor. It thudded onto the roof of the wheelhouse, causing an exodus from inside the bridge.

He made a second bombing run and then a third, working his way back until he was poised to hammer the science compartment. He hoped Gamay and Chantel would be smart enough to cover their ears.

He swung the boom to the left and then let the two-hundred-pound weight drop. It pounded on the hull plating, leaving a visible dent.

He could feel the ship handling better, cresting the waves without threatening to turn. I could do this all night , Paul thought. He swung the crane out to the left and then flipped the joystick back to the right, but, instead of moving back, the boom remained suspended over the port side of the ship. He jiggled the controls and heard a whining sound, but neither saw nor felt any movement.

He glanced down at the panel through his smeared goggles. It was a jumble of yellow and red lights. One was a hydraulic pressure warning light. Others were labeled in writing too worn for him to read through his distorted lens.

The lights in the cab flickered.

“Come on,” he said to the crane. “Don’t fail me now.”

He tried to move the boom incrementally, but after a few brief shunts it froze once again. The lights in the cab went dark. The insects had chewed through the lines.

The crane was dead. And, Paul worried, so were they.

He couldn’t tell in which direction the ship was pointing at the moment, but he had no doubt about its fate. As soon as the Isabella swung around again, she would roll over.

—

The pounding on the hull reverberated through the science bay, even before the direct hit shook the compartment to its core.

“What the hell is he doing?” Gamay wondered aloud as a huge dent appeared in the overhead.

She ran to the door. Looking out the window, she could see that the deck was mostly cleared. The piles of insects had been forced into the air. “I think I owe him an apology,” she said. “This insanity seems to be working.”

For a minute or two the pounding continued, and it seemed they were winning the battle. Then things suddenly calmed down. “He’s stopped.”

“Why would he stop now?” Chantel asked.

Gamay glanced up at the cab of the crane. It had gone dark. She had her answer. “He lost power. Just like you said, these insects are chewing on anything mildly organic. Electrical cables, hydraulic lines, anything they can literally sink their teeth into.”

The ship was turning from north to west. The oscillation had almost vanished, but was building again.

“I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news,” Chantel said, “but with the crane in that position…”

Gamay didn’t need her to finish. She knew what the danger was. “I’m going to the bridge before those insects land back on the ship.”

She grabbed a pair of safety goggles, pulled on a windbreaker, and wrapped a towel around her face. Before Chantel could catch up, she’d pushed through the door and out onto the deck.

She found the deck relatively empty. In their primitive fight-or-flight reaction, the insects remained airborne, swirling in the lights, their numbers countless.

Gamay ran forward, knowing she was working on borrowed time. She was halfway to the bridge when the flying creatures attacked. At first, just a few dive-bombing strays, but then they came in numbers, trying to cover her the way they covered everything.

She crashed through the cloud, waving her arms like a madwoman, found the ladder to the bridge, and raced up it without a second thought. Near the top she felt the ship swaying. It was turning in and down, just as Paul had feared.

Gripping the railing, Gamay pulled herself into the wheelhouse, ignoring the terrible sight of the two dead men and rushing to the ship’s wheel.

The rudder was all that mattered.

She reached the wheel. Threw it over in the opposite direction and held on. The ship was leaning so far over that loose items in the compartment tumbled past and out the door. She tightened her grip on the wheel as her feet threatened to slide out from beneath her.

The bow of the ship hit the bottom of the trough and, instead of rolling, snapped back. The Isabella swung onto her centerline, overshot the mark, and then rocked a few times until she was stable. In this new position it was running nearly straight and true.

Gamay glanced at the compass, saw that they were heading to the northwest, and decided she’d done enough. The insects were pouring in once again, growing rapidly in number. She checked the door, saw them covering the deck, and realized she’d never make it back to the science bay by going outside. She went for the interior corridor. A short way back she passed the body of the captain. There was no point in stopping.

Continuing backward, she found the door to the mess hall. She pounded on it with her fist. “Open up! Please!”

The door swung aside. Light spilled into the corridor and she dove into the room, rejoicing at the sound of the door slamming behind her.

Like Paul, she was now covered in bites, but at least the ship was running straight ahead and not in danger of capsizing.

The crewmen helped her up, brushing off the insects that clung to her, killing them as they landed elsewhere. They soon started asking questions, too many and too quick for her to answer. Finally, they stopped.

“I’ll get you some ice cream,” one of them said.

“I’m not really interested in dessert right now,” Gamay replied.

“For the bites,” the man said. “Hold the container against your skin.”

Gamay nodded. “In that case…sure.”

As they pulled cold items out of the freezer to help Gamay numb the pain, she used the intercom to call Chantel. She needed to know if Paul was safe.

“He’s back inside,” Chantel said. “Glad you called. He was about to go looking for you. We’re running straight again, but now what?”

“We wait till daylight and hope these things fly off with the sun.”

“And if they don’t?”

“We hide out on the ship until it hits land,” she replied. “Somewhere in East Africa, I’d suspect.”

It was as good a plan as any. But an hour later the engine began to choke and sputter as the intakes filled with dead bugs. Starved of air, it soon cut out. The battery failed two hours later, and for the rest of the night they drifted in the dark. No intercom, no air-conditioning, only a few emergency lights to see by.

The insects had reclaimed the ship, entombing it in their mass of bodies, trapping the heat inside. It soon felt like they were hiding out in a sauna or the outer level of Hades. The only noise that could be heard was the scratching and clicking of the insects crawling all over the ship.