'This is . . . Government property! You are not . . . allowed here!'
'Jimmy!' Jeffers shouted from the other side. 'What's going on?' The man's eyes rolled back in his head.
'Please,' said Jimmy, 'we're here to help, we can take you . . .'
The man opened his mouth to speak again, but no sound would come. He was racked by a sudden coughing fit; the force of it bent him over and he dropped the gun. He sank to his knees and toppled backwards, thumping into the back wall. Jimmy turned quickly and unbolted the gate. Jeffers, with his gun drawn, was the first through. He immediately pushed Jimmy to other side and covered the fallen guard with his weapon. Another crewman kicked the dropped rifle over the edge of the rampart into the flames below.
Claire came running up to Jimmy. 'Are you all right?'
Instead of speaking, Jimmy nodded towards the fire. The other squad members were noticing as well.
'Oh my God,' said Claire. 'There must be . . .'
'Take a photo,' said Jimmy.
'I can't . . . they . . .'
'You have to.'
Claire took a deep breath. She nodded. 'I'll climb . . . higher. A better angle . . .'
Jimmy helped her up on to the wall and held her shins as she steadied herself and began to take her pictures.
***
Jeffers knelt beside the sick man and gave him a drink of water. He gulped greedily from the plastic bottle then splashed some over his face. Jimmy had thought he was an old man, but as the ash and dirt washed away he realized that he probably wasn't much more than eighteen or nineteen.
'What happened here?' Jeffers asked gently.
'My commander, he orders . . . burn the dead . . . but they just . . . kept coming . . .!'
'Where is your commander now?'
'He . . . didn't come back . . .' The guard stared down at the inferno below. 'Ten thousand . . . I counted. Ten thousand . . .'
'Where have the rest of the people gone?'
The guard was started to drift away. Jeffers gave him a gentle shake. 'Where are they? Where did they go?'
The guard's burning eyes flicked up. 'They haven't gone . . . anywhere . . .'
He looked towards the fortress walls, then he was wracked by another coughing fit and slumped down again.
Claire had finished photographing the huge funeral pyre. She turned to look down over the city. The smoke was slowly drifting to the south, and as it thinned out over the harbour the Titanic began to emerge. Claire raised her camera and took a picture. She noticed some movement around the gangplank but couldn't quite identify it, so she increased the magnification. For a moment she didn't understand what she was seeing. The whole area around the dock seemed to be moving; then there were short flashes of light. She increased the magnification once more — and then she let out an involuntary cry.
'What — what is it?' Jimmy shouted up. But she could only stand and stare. Jimmy heaved himself up on to the top of the wall. Claire handed him the camera. All she could say was, 'The ship . . .'
Jimmy took just a moment to focus in. The ship . . . the gangplank . . . and hundreds . . . no thousands of people packed around it, trying to force their way on board. There were flashes of light — gunfire — both from the ship and from the quayside. Jimmy raked the camera right along the length of the dock and back towards the city . . . people were emerging from houses carrying suitcases and bags and pushing prams loaded with possessions, all of them moving as quickly as they could in the direction of the Titanic.
He swung back to the ship and saw the gangplank begin to move backwards, hurling a number of people into the water. As it was drawn fully on to the ship there were several more gun flashes . . . and then there was a mighty blast of the ship's horn that seemed to roll towards them across the city. First Officer Jeffers looked up from the rampart.
'What is it, Jimmy?'
'It's the Titanic! She's leaving!'
25
A Rum Situation
There was no doubt about it, the Titanic was definitely leaving. Her sleek white form was slowly making its way out of San Juan harbour, much to the distress of all those left behind on the dock — not to mention those watching from the ramparts of the fortress of San Cristobal.
'Do you think it was a trap?' Jimmy asked. 'They set fire to lure us in, waited until we docked, then rushed to the ship?'
First Officer Jeffers, who was watching the scene through a pair of binoculars, shook his head. He could see that thousands were still making their way through the streets of the city towards the dock. 'I would be surprised if it was that organized. I think they were all hiding out of fear of catching the plague: they've probably been without food or power or water: and maybe word spread that we'd come to rescue them and they couldn't help themselves.'
'Well shouldn't we be rescuing them?' Claire asked.
'I'm sure Captain Smith took the first few on board, but there's no way we could cope with that many — it would be a disaster. He's quite right to sail away — and we'd be with him if it wasn't for a certain idiot.' Jeffers turned and glared at a sheepish-looking Petty Officer Benson, who was supposed to have maintained contact with the ship, but had instead dropped the only radio and smashed it — and then hadn't confessed in the hope that they'd get back on board without anyone noticing. Jimmy was just relieved that for once he wasn't getting blamed for something.
'They're not just going to leave us, are they?' Claire asked.
'They might leave me,' said Jimmy, 'but they definitely won't leave you.'
They took a final look down at the massive funeral pyre, then Jeffers led them back out of the fortress to the vehicles. They took the emaciated guard, Miguel, with them. He kept saying thank you, thank you, thank you. Eventually one of the squad said, 'Thank us if we get back to the ship.'
'Thank you,' said Miguel.
***
Instead of heading for the docks, Jeffers, with a map folded out on his lap, led them out of the city and on to a road heading west towards a town called Dorado. The plan was to get to what would hopefully be a less crowded harbour there and commandeer a boat capable of getting them out to the Titanic.
They had travelled less than a mile when Benson said, 'Sir, we're being followed.'
Everyone looked back. There was no mistaking it. Three cars.
'Maybe they're just out for a drive,' said Jimmy.
A moment later the first gunshot pinged into the road just to their left.
'And may be they're not,' said Claire.
'Step on it,' said Jeffers.
The two Jeeps accelerated, and their pursuers followed suit. It became a race, twisting through abandoned vehicles and careering across sidewalks. Jimmy and Claire were glad that they'd swapped Jeeps, as their original vehicle, now at the back, seemed to be attracting most of the gunfire.
'What do they want?' Jimmy shouted.
Before Jeffers could respond he suddenly swung the Jeep to one side. The road ahead was blocked by several cars. At first this seemed like just another obstacle to get round — but then a shot shattered their windshield. Claire screamed and ducked down. So did Jimmy. They weren't abandoned vehicles — they'd been deliberately placed there!
The second Jeep braked too quickly — veering up on to two wheels and then toppling over on to its side. The four crewmen scrambled out and tugged Miguel after them before racing across towards Jeffers' jeep. But just as they reached it another shot rang out and one of them fell, clutching his leg. Jeffers stood up in his seat, drew his gun and fired three times towards the road block, then swivelled and fired twice at the small pursuing convoy as it bore down on them. The shot crewman was picked up by two of his comrades and helped on board. Then they sped off in the direction they'd come, hopelessly overcrowded now and heading straight for their pursuers. Jeffers kept his foot on the pedal, refusing to budge until the very last moment when he threw the Jeep to one side. It mounted the sidewalk with a heavy thud but kept going, passing by the line of pursuing vehicles at speed, with all of them doing their best to keep their heads down and limbs tucked in as gunshots peppered the vehicle.