Coldbrook (Hammer)(116)

There was plenty of air traffic. Most of it was military – Chinooks, heavy transports, and fast jets that screamed across the sky. But there were also private flights, mostly helicopters. Once they saw a distant speck in the sky spinning earthward, and watched as it struck the ground and bloomed into flame.

‘Marc, I just want to check out the map,’ Vic said. He opened Marc’s laptop and casually angled it away from Olivia and Lucy.

Marc paused for only a moment before he realised what Vic meant. ‘Click on US-map-red,’ he said, without turning around.

‘Right.’

‘For the world map, it’s world-map-red.’

Vic opened the map of North America first. The clock in the screen’s corner refreshed and started skipping forward from zero. In seconds it had passed Day One, and the spread of red dots merged and flowed like spilled paint. He tried to keep his face neutral, tried to keep the screen turned away from Olivia and Lucy’s line of vision. But his wife leaned over their daughter’s head and tilted the screen her way.

As the counter hit Day Four and clicked over a few more hours, the spread was extensive. The entire eastern seaboard was solid red, and to the west there were concentrations of colour, mainly centred around cities and the coastal regions. Looking at the screen chilled him, and when Lucy turned away without even acknowledging him he grew colder still.

‘What about France?’ Sean asked, leaning across and tapping Vic’s knee. He had realised what Vic was looking at. Beside him Jayne stirred, also waiting for the reply.

Vic closed the window and opened the world-map-red file. It took longer for this program to load, and with the timer starting from zero again the spread of red was slower, and less detailed. The spots spread across the map like measles. North America had the greatest concentration, South America was speckled more heavily to the north, and Alaska and Russia were also infected. Europe sprouted its first spots in Britain and Spain, and they spread quickly to the south and east, appearing all across northern Europe before heading towards the Middle East. Africa developed its own blemishes. The old Eastern Bloc countries succumbed. It looked as though a child had flicked its paintbrush at the screen before taking a breath and then concentrating on colouring in certain areas more fully.

Sean clicked off his safety belt and leaned over the open screen, looking at the mass of red slowly filling out France and Britain. He remained motionless for a few seconds, then quietly sat back down and refastened his belt.

Jayne whispered something in his ear and he nodded, unable to look at her. ‘And England?’ Vic heard her say. Sean’s hard expression did not change. Vic saw their sadness and grief, and he closed the laptop and switched it off, unable to look any more.

His heart was racing and he felt sick, and even though he heard Marc’s voice hissing from the headphones around his neck, and the man was turned around in his seat, Vic could not move his hands to slip them on again. Marc saw his expression and stopped talking, and Vic was glad he did not have a mirror. His face, he knew, told it all.

Panic gripped him, and he considered what the fall would feel like. He could open the door and fall out sideways, sure that Sean would leap across and close the door before anyone else was endangered.

But his family were here.

Just before he thought he might go mad and start screaming, Lucy took his hand. He could not bear to look at her, in case that uncertainty was still in her eyes. But he took comfort from the contact, and allowed himself to calm down.

They flew on, the silence between them heavier than before, weighted with knowledge and consequence.

Half an hour later Olivia started prodding him and said that his pocket was beeping. Vic pulled out the satphone. There was a message waiting, and the name on the screen was the last he’d expected to see.

‘What?’ Lucy asked.

‘Jonah.’ He read the message. It was from just before they’d lost contact with the Welshman. He must have sent it but it had failed to transmit, and now for some reason it had come through late. Vic sighed, because it could mean nothing. Perhaps he was about to read the old man’s final message.

And look after that family of yours, you bastard, the message read. Vic smiled and showed it to Lucy. She pointed at the phone.

‘What?’

‘Next to Jonah’s name.’

And Vic slapped his forehead because he had been so stupid. The small green square meant that Jonah was available, the line between them live, and that must mean something good.

‘Marc!’ Vic said, slinging on his headset. ‘I think I might be in touch with Jonah.’ He called Jonah’s speed-dial and held the phone to his ear. Somewhere in Coldbrook a satphone might be ringing, and Vic could not help imagining what might be hearing that noise, the things passing it by.