Melisande Mason - 2042 - The Great Cataclysm

‘I’ll lower you and Karen onto the roof using the hoist and sling, once you’re in the building you can assess how to get the people out.

The cable on the Liberty is thirty-three metres, should be just about enough. It’ll be bloody dangerous. I can hover around a hundred and ten metres from the ground with safety. That building is about a hundred which leaves me roughly only ten metres leeway. The wind will be gusting badly, so I’ll drop you and get out of there fast.’

‘What if someone’s badly injured?’ Karen asked. “We’ll need to air lift them out.’

‘We’ll to deal with that if it comes up.’

They found the jeep and had no trouble righting it. They replaced the tyre and headed back to Camp B with Graham acting as look out with the HK rifle gripped tightly across his lap. They arrived to find the camp crawling with army, police, civilians and medical people, all milling about in confused groups. Liberty waited serenely in the secured compound where Graham had left her. ‘I’m going to find Alex and get some supplies.’ Karen said, jumping from the jeep. ‘Don’t you dare leave without me!’

Nick had collected the two-way pod and Graham had completed the pre-flight inspection when she returned with Alex in tow, carrying medical bags.

‘Alex is coming too in case someone needs a doctor.’ She announced, scrambling into the passenger compartment. Dust whipped in circles forming a yellow cloud around the Veto as the jet thrusters began their familiar throb and the nine hundred and fifty horses pulled her at seventy knots in a vertical climb over the camp.

Within minutes they were flying over ocean, each of them silently absorbing the devastating picture unravelling beneath them. The new uneven shoreline, splattered and broken by massive piles of twisted steel and cement, broken timber and roofing materials, smashed motor vehicles and boats unfolded below them like one gigantic demolition scene. Bodies lay crushed among the rubble alongside mangled carcasses of horses, cows, and domestic animals. Great mounds of tangled building materials formed islands that the sea mercilessly pounded and dragged, spurting huge arches of sea-spray ten metres into the air. The surrealistic scene vanished behind them as Graham banked and headed Liberty over the ocean towards the Phoenix.

A Navy Frigate lay at anchor on the ocean side of the south-eastern complex. Nick blinked at the startling sight. One hundred and seventeen metres long, her deck almost level with the fourth floor of the building, the top of her tall Navilon dome riding high beside the tenth floor. Her Sea sparrow missile system on the bow pointed ominously to the south. From their perspective it appeared that one could almost walk from the deck into the building, but in reality, the building was gutted up to the eighth floor, and the only access for man would be by the turbulent sea. Her Veto pad on her bow was devoid of its machine; the huge grey Westland Sea Kite, now deployed to Brisbane. Graham hovered over the south tower.

‘Are you ready Nick?’ He shouted.

‘Too easy mate. After that episode last night I’m game for anything.’

The sling, as Graham called it was really a padded loop that fitted over the shoulders and under the armpits, a little more sophisticated than the crude rope sling he’d fashioned for their escape from the Phoenix.

‘I can angle the jets away from the skids but you’re going to have to drop fast and run like hell when you hit the roof.’ Graham shouted.

Nick checked his two-way, a small antiquated tool, but a very reliable one, and poked it into a pocket in his shorts, slipped the sling over his shoulders and edged out of the Veto ready for the drop down. ‘You’re next.’ He signalled to Karen. Alex’s face blanched as he watched Nick standing on the skids tugging on the spin resistant stainless steel cable checking its strength. Graham had assured him it would hold up to one hundred and forty kilograms. He slid off the skid slowlyto dangle momentarily below the fuselage. Graham pressed the spring-loaded switch on his guidance lever and Nick descended so fast it was unlike anything he had experienced. His breath caught in his throat threatening to choke him and his stomach felt as though it would drop right out of his body. In a matter of seconds his feet touched the roof. The hot wind whipped up by the wake of the tsunami whined and nipped at his body in an unsuccessful bid to pry him loose, as he landed as a parachutist, with knees buckling limply, falling into a roll then standing quickly, throwing off the sling at the same instant. He did as instructed and ran out from under the downdraft to wait for the others.Now we’ll see how brave you are Karen. He said to himself, as he waited for her to step out. Minutes later he saw the flash of her red jacket as she began her breathtaking descent. She shrugged out of her sling and rolled like a pro, bent low and ran away from the danger area in a blink of an eye.

‘Wow, what a ride.’ She said bending before Nick to catch her breath. My heart’s going a hundred miles an hour.’ She straightened smiling, and the instant their eyes met Nick felt a weird sensation of falling. He blushed as he reached to pull her to safety. They waited impatiently for the medical kit and ropes followed by Alex who managed to land without incident.

‘Just like bungee jumping without the kick back.’ He laughed. They signalled Liberty and watched as she banked away to the west. Nick’s two-way crackled. ‘Going home for a nap,’ Graham joked. ‘Call me when you want some more action.’

Nick flicked the transmit switch on the two-way. ‘Navy War ship below. Do you read me? This is Nick Torrens. I’m on the roof of the building beside you. I have a doctor and nurse with me. We’re going into the building. Over.’

‘Torrens, this is the war ship Mittagong, Hold for Dave. Over.’

Dave’s anxious voice came in. ‘Nick! Welcome aboard. We can see people on the ninth floor, but we’ve been unable to get a message through to them. It will make things a lot easier now you’re here and we can communicate. Over.’

‘Okay, Dave. I’m glad you’re down there. I’ll call you once we’ve found them, standby. Out.’

Nick glanced anxiously around from the rooftop. ‘We’ll check for people on each floor as we go down.’ Nick suggested. ‘Let’s go!’

They made their way down the emergency stairs, stopping at each floor to thoroughly search for injured survivors. The top three floors were empty, as was the shopping arcade. The damage was horrendous. Windowless walls bore huge cracks, some threatening to fall out into the sea below. They saw blood stains on the concrete stairs leading down from the thirteenth floor.

‘Someone’s badly injured.’ Alex commented.

Nick and Karen continued their search, finding nothing until they reached the ninth floor. The emergency door to the stairs was swinging open, and gathered in the internal foyer away from the howling wind, were a group of twenty or so silent people, and some children huddled together in fear. Karen gasped when she saw a man among the heads of another small group to their right raise a gun. She grabbed Nick’s wrist to warn him. Too late! Nick jerked forward when the gun rammed into his back.

‘Well, well, well. What have we here!’ A thickset man sporting a rakish flaxen beard and clad in Navilon and denim appeared before them. Large deep blue eyes peered suspiciously from a handsome face, and thick blonde wavy hair fell into his eyes. He spoke in a cultured clear voice, not unlike Hud’s; the thin man they had come up against before the tsunami. ‘Which one of you gentlemen is in charge?’

Nick stepped forward. Without speaking the man jerked the two-way pod from Nick’s hand and examined it, grinning evilly.