Morse Code Read online

  To find out more about this book including the

  paperback edition or to contact the author, please visit:

  www.vividpublishing.com.au/morsecode

  Copyright © 2020 J.D Miller

  ISBN 978-1-925952-59-9 (eBook)

  Published by Vivid Publishing

  P.O. Box 948, Fremantle Western Australia 6959

  www.vividpublishing.com.au

  eBook conversion and distribution by Fontaine Publishing Group, Australia

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  For Oosh,

  (The real Ash Griffin)

  The more we fight, the more we divide.

  Now I know for sure our species won’t survive.

  I just hope, whatever takes our place,

  Learns from all of our mistakes…

  ...---...

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  1

  Seconds before fire ripped through the vessel, he’d been peacefully dreaming.

  Ash Griffin felt like he was floating, his weightless body gently rising towards the sky, rebelling against gravity in a silent triumph. He slept, and although he was not due to rise for several hours, an ear-shattering explosion forced Ash to wake from his slumber.

  Eyes bursting open, he froze as the boom echoed out, followed by screams of sheer terror.

  The fire alarm screeched down the corridors. Emergency red lights flickered throughout the sleeping quarters, and just as Ash tried to adjust to his current predicament, a second explosion rocked the entire ship.

  Fellow marines began to scramble from their bunks, arming themselves with the closest weapon in reach. Ash tore back the covers, threw his legs over the edge of the top bunk and jumped down.

  He landed barefoot in three inches of water.

  Heart jackhammering against his chest, Ash sprang into action. He dashed out of the sleeping quarters, colliding into his comrade as he sprinted down the corridors. He pressed on through the chaos, up the staircase, and stumbled out onto the main deck.

  An orange haze surrounded him, as plumes of smoke blanketed the night sky. He ran, half shielding his face from a flurry of embers, as he headed towards the control room. Ash felt the intense heat scorch his exposed skin.

  Just as he turned the corner, the reality of the situation hit him with full force.

  The entire ship was engulfed by flames.

  Planes roared overhead, engines buzzing furiously as they circled the vessel. A low whistle could be heard, growing louder by the second. Ash caught a glimpse of a falling missile just moments before it struck the front of the ship.

  More screams followed; the screeches of unrestrained horror.

  Ash, along with the rest of the marines, had been trained to cope in moments of high conflict. Several years of hard work and dedication had enabled the men to prepare for surprise attacks from the enemy. However, now that the moment had arrived, all those days of training were lost. Nothing could’ve prepared them for this.

  Ash glanced out towards the ocean. The other naval ships in his fleet were also under attack and the enemy had them surrounded.

  Ash darted down the deck, running towards the mission bay. He desperately hoped he could somehow defend his company but he knew the situation was getting bleaker by the minute.

  Just as the front of the ship came into view, Ash realised he was already too late. The first missiles had dropped, killing several of his comrades on impact and the rest could not be saved.

  The enemy was relentless and there was no chance to make a reprisal. The naval ship’s armaments had been blown to bits from the first explosion.

  Ash looked to the very front of the vessel and painfully acknowledged certain defeat. The stern was already beginning to dip into the ocean. There was no question about it – the ship was going down.

  There was nothing he could do. The missiles were still falling and he was unarmed.

  Hoping for orders, Ash turned towards the operations room to find it burning in a violent inferno. He had merely minutes to evacuate, if he had any chance of survival, but Ash wouldn’t abandon his brothers. If they fell, he would fall with them.

  To die fighting, was to die with dignity.

  However, many fellow marines did not feel the same way and they were diving overboard. Life and death situations bring out the true colours in people. Some may think they are brave and courageous, but when faced with a probable demise, so many would crumble into cowards.

  Just then, another missile plummeted from the sky, falling directly into the mission bay. There was a burst of white light. It was almost blinding. The force sent a shock right through the ship and Ash was unable to keep on his feet. He fell back like a domino, crashing down hard on the deck.

  Dazed, with a high-pitched frequency ringing through his ears, Ash pulled himself back onto his feet. Maybe twenty-five or so metres in the distance, he saw a pile of bloodied bodies. They had been thrown across the vessel from the most recent attack.

  Suddenly, one of the bodies began to move – it was his lieutenant. Half of his face was severely charred and he was missing his right arm, yet still, he looked directly towards Ash and made eye contact.

  Just as he prepared to dash over to assist him, the lieutenant shouted out, forcing Ash to stop in his tracks.

  “Hey!” yelled the lieutenant, nursing the bloodied stump at the end of his elbow. “G-Get out of here! Go.”

  Ash shook his head defiantly, refusing to stand down in the line of duty.

  “Abandon ship!” shouted the lieutenant. “R-Right now!”

  He couldn’t move. It almost felt like his feet were anchored on the deck.

  “T-That’s an order, lad. I am still your c-commanding lieutenant...”

  The enemy planes were heading back for another attack. Ash could hear the engines growing louder with every second. Although leaving the vessel and the dying marines behind would be a great dishonour in Ash’s eyes, he did not want to disobey his lieutenant.

  Forcing away his reluctance, he gave a salute and advanced towards the railing. He waited until the very last second, and then he jumped.

  Keeping his legs together and bringing his arms by his sides, like a pin, he dropped into the ocean. The Coral Sea engulfed his body, and the screams were now but a distant noise. Ash held his breath as he swam towards the surface, narrowly missing falling debris as he swam.

  When he finally breached the surface, a final missile dropped into the centre of the naval ship, triggering an eruption of metal panels and shrapnel. Ash dived down once again, trying to dodge the wreckage. He swam as far away from the ship as he could, and w
hen he could take no more, Ash rose to the surface to take another breath.

  Barely able to keep his head above the water, he surveyed the damage.

  The ship was sinking fast. The vessel could hardly be seen behind the billowing smoke, but still, it stood no chance. Within a few minutes, there were no longer any screams.

  An eerie silence lingered in the dark of the night.

  Ash jerked his head around, desperately searching for any survivors, but there were only lifeless bodies floating on top of the ocean. He continued to tread water, becoming increasingly more exhausted by the second.

  By luck, a large plastic panel floated by. Ash threw his torso over the top and latched his hands firmly around the edges. Breathing hard, he tried to find his composure.

  Ash was no stranger to adversity. He had conquered far greater challenges in the past and he had seen his brothers die before him on several occasions. However, with every hit, you are weakened. Ash knew every man had his breaking point.

  The rival planes had completed their mission, and they were long gone. The enemy had yet another victory. Filthy bastards.

  A little delirious, Ash looked up, as if he expected the heavens to offer some level of reassurance – but there would be no answer tonight.

  Glowing embers and dust rained down from the sky, and that was the last thing Ash remembered seeing before the current dragged him out into the open sea.

  2

  The sun beat down on him in a persistent burst of heat.

  He opened one eye. His head throbbed. Every second of consciousness was excruciating, but Ash gritted his teeth and tried to bear it.

  He was stranded, in the middle of the ocean, awaiting certain death.

  Ash had been floating on a plastic panel for close to twelve hours.

  His arms were still draped over one side of the panel, and his bare arms had been scorched red by the unforgiving sun. However, his lower half had been submerged in water overnight, and his legs felt like dead weights, nearly dragging him down into the deep abyss.

  Ash longed to quench his thirst. How long could he last this way?

  Surely he had only days – perhaps even mere hours – before he reached his end.

  He tried to lift his head off the plastic panel, but it just bobbed around like a buoy caught in a rip current. Ash swore he could feel his brain sloshing around in his skull.

  He closed his eyes again, knowing his time was limited. He was not afraid of death. Dying was inevitable, yet still, waiting for his demise was almost worse than death itself. He just wanted it over and done with. In fact, in that moment he considered letting go of the panel and permit the ocean to swallow him whole. With any luck, maybe he’d sink to the bottom like a stone.

  Drowning was not the way he wanted to go, but it was better than dying of dehydration or sunstroke. However, it would also be the easy way out. Ash had been raised to fight to the bitter end, no matter how bleak.

  With that thought in mind, he held on.

  He drifted for hours, growing increasingly more nauseous as he rocked from side to side in a never-ending cycle. Even his grip around the panel had loosened up. Maybe he would just simply slide into the sea without even realising it.

  Ash used his remaining strength to force his eyes open. At first, the light blinded him, but as his eyes began to focus, a dark silhouette was beginning to take shape ahead of him on the horizon. He tried to squint, but his eyes were betraying him.

  It was several more minutes before the image came into a clearer view.

  There was no mistaking it now; he saw an island. Dry land. Perhaps only three hundred metres away.

  A pinprick of hope enabled Ash to lift his head from the plastic panel once more. He could’ve passed out, but pushing through the dizziness and disorientation, he managed to stay conscious. The panel floated nearer to the land. The shore was in sight.

  Minute by minute he was getting closer. Ash wanted to kick his legs and paddle in – just to speed up the process – but his body protested angrily.

  Wait it out. Not too much further now.

  In time, the size of the waves began to grow and pushed him closer to shore. Just ten metres out, a wave began to curl directly behind Ash, and slammed down on his back. The panel flipped out from underneath his torso as the wave engulfed him. Underwater, Ash was thrown in all directions; his head narrowly missing the sea floor as he tried to gain control. When the wave passed, Ash used the remainder of his strength to breach the surface. He broke through. Still alive.

  Just as he tried to take in a fresh breath of air, another wave crashed behind him, pushing him straight onto the shore.

  Ash’s body smacked down onto the beach. He grabbed fistfuls of sand, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

  Before another wave could hit, he dragged his body out of the way, leaving a clear trail in the sand from the shore. Ash didn’t stop until he’d reached the dry sand, heaving uncontrollably. He must’ve swallowed several mouthfuls of seawater, because his stomach felt full and bloated. He was so damn close to being sick.

  Ash lay there for some time. Not daring to move, not daring to open his eyes.

  Fighting to stay awake, Ash listened as the waves behind him crashed onto the shore, almost rhythmically. He wanted to appreciate the sounds of solitude, but he couldn’t – survival was still his one and only priority.

  Slowly, he lifted his head. Pushing his arms down into the sand, he climbed onto his knees and surveyed his surroundings.

  The sand was soft, pure and untainted by man. In the distance he saw towering tropical trees and dense bush land.

  From this view, he couldn’t quite tell the size of the island, but it seemed reasonably large. Was it inhabitable? Only time would tell.

  When Ash could take no more of the heat, he climbed to his feet. Staggering towards the shade, Ash struggled to keep himself upright, feeling as though his legs were encased in cement.

  When he was finally out of the blazing sun, he collapsed under a tree and rested his beaten body. Exhaustion pulled him in all directions, but in order to survive he needed three things – water, food and shelter.

  Ash rolled over and tried to summon the will to stand, but his limbs ached and throbbed, forcing him to rest.

  Eyes fluttering with each weary minute, his head lolled to one side as he drifted into a numbing slumber.

  ***

  He awoke a few hours later – dehydrated, dazed and edging closer to death.

  Ash forced himself to sit upright. He looked to the sky and tried to work out the time of day. Judging by the sun’s position, it was the middle of the afternoon.

  As he stretched out his cramping muscles, a distinctive buzz could be heard from the west as the sound rapidly increased in volume.

  A helicopter came into view. Although it was still a fair distance on the horizon, Ash knew it was an enemy aircraft. He immediately jumped up and sought refuge behind a few shrubs.

  He would rather be left stranded than captured by the enemy.

  Watching from his hiding place, the helicopter flew closer to the island. No doubt it was a border patrol copter, surveying the ruins of the sea battle from the night before.

  There was a flag painted on the side of the aircraft. It was red and blue with five white stars centred in a constellation.

  Australians. Without doubt.

  Ash gritted his teeth in hatred, but soon the helicopter passed over and was long gone. When he emerged from the shrubs, his stomach growled and churned in discontent.

  It wasn’t even hunger; mostly a result of the ingested sea water.

  Ash longed to sleep off the pain, but there was hardly time for it. Ash took the opportunity to explore the island while he still had the energy.

  He remained in the shade as he began to walk the perimeter. By his best guess, the island was roughly fifteen hectares, and it inclined to a prominent peak in the centre.

  As Ash walked, he kept a keen eye out for edible plants, but fo
und nothing. Then again, he was in a foreign land, and didn’t have the slightest clue what plants could be deemed safe for consumption.

  The further he walked, the narrower the shore became. He was probably no more than twenty-minutes into the walk when he stumbled across a small cove littered in debris. Ash felt his heart sink when he realised the debris mostly consisted of broken fragments from the navy vessels.

  There were pieces of twisted metal, baggage and personal belongings. The debris had probably washed up on shore in the last few hours – the last remnants of a brutal attack.

  There were no signs of bodies yet, but no doubt his company had perished in the battle. Ash didn’t know if he was the only survivor, but perhaps he was.

  He edged closer towards the debris, curious to have a closer inspection. He was hoping to find tools of a useful nature, but all the personal items were mainly waterlogged digital devices. There were also a couple of empty containers, but one particular item caught Ash’s eye.

  Amongst the debris, he found a metal briefcase.

  He crouched down and tried to open the latches. Locked. He then lifted the briefcase from the sand and assessed the weight. It was not too heavy and better yet, as he gently shook the case, he could hear objects moving about inside.

  Ash inspected the latches. The locking mechanisms seemed to be operated by a three-digit code. He tried a couple of combinations, but after growing impatient, he decided to take a different approach.

  Carrying the briefcase by his side, Ash found a large rock by the shore and put it to good use. He smashed the rock against the locking mechanisms, over and over, feeling somewhat primitive.

  At last, the latches popped open, spilling its contents all over the sand.

  The briefcase had been water tight, but unfortunately the materials were of little use to Ash. There was a lot of paperwork, a couple of pens and a pair of black-lensed sunglasses. Junk. Nothing but rubbish in his eyes.

  However, amongst the clutter, he found a notebook.

  Although it was hardly what he needed right now, Ash took a moment to sit in the sand as he flipped through the pages.

  It had belonged to his now fallen lieutenant.