Page 59 of Clive Cussler Desolation Code

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. TheIsabellaswung 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.

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