by M. L. Banner
When they were following the group of humans down the stairs and came upon Flavio, he realized that all of those people they were following were infected too. Flavio wasn’t infected, and he was leading them in.
And so he had chosen to send his people off the ship and save the humans and give them a chance at survival. And when they took the bait and left the ship, he was happy. He didn’t even know he had that feeling still.
And so he hid with the small group of infected crew, on the other side, and watched them all leave.
But Eloise stopped.
She was too smart for their simple tricks, even if the rest weren’t. And as he watched her consider their trap, he knew that she knew. And he knew she could smell them there, hiding from her.
It was when she called out to him that Ágúst knew what he had to do.
He stepped from the shadows and made his way to her, while her back was still to him and she was facing outside. When she called for him, he responded with his call in their language that he knew she would understand. He told her, “I’ve been here the whole time.”
She spun around quickly to see him, her glare questioning. Unsure.
That’s when he used his newfound speed and bolted for her.
She saw him, but didn’t really know what he was doing until it was too late.
When he hit, he wrapped his arms around her and drove her out of the ship, onto the gangway bridge, where they both rolled down it, entangled in each other.
While he had a chance, knowing that she would kill him for this, he looked back and saw Flavio climbing back up into the ship.
“Close up, now!” Ágúst bellowed.
Ágúst caught a knowing grin from Flavio, who understood his sacrifice. But it didn’t feel like a sacrifice. It was just the right thing to do.
As Eloise wiggled free from him, he watched the door to the ship shut them out.
He turned back to face Eloise and his fate, which he knew would come as quickly as her vengeance.
As a mere human, he was always afraid of death and everything else that was a part of him being human. He wasn’t now.
He faced his death, remembering his life as a human and how he saved his ship.
113
Tomas
The cold drizzle quickly grew into a driving rain which pelted the windows so hard, Tomas feared they might break. He wasn’t much of a ship’s captain, having piloted the P114 only one other time, after his boss gave him a crash course on its operations. Trying to keep an eye on where he was going, he looked all around for the windshield wipers and couldn’t find them. Then Sal’s hand appeared silently from behind him, making him jump.
“It’s right here,” Sal stated, twisting a knob on the console that sent the blades slashing back and forth violently.
They rounded the stern of the Intrepid, now getting the full view of the giant cruise ship.
“You seem jumpy. No need to be. We’ll succeed, just as planned.” Sal’s voice was smooth and in control now, not at all like he was earlier. This was also the time when he was most aware of everyone around him.
Tomas also knew his boss was spewing bluster. Sal had expected to be in complete control of the cruise ship by now. But somehow the ship’s crew had thwarted Sal’s every move. They weren’t even supposed get any fuel from the barge, which was only a ruse to allow their armed crew on board, or what Sal called his version of a Trojan horse.
But that obviously didn’t work either.
Tomas was pretty sure it was just Sal’s way of being vindictive when he sent all of his crazy people to board the ship, with the idea that they’d kill everyone in sight. Not only were they not able to board the ship, but in addition to the thirty-plus crazy people on their island, the ship dumped over one hundred more on them. They were already running out of food for their current crazy residents, as they were down to only a few uninfected humans. That’s why they needed this cruise ship.
~~~
“You little people can’t win. We’re superior to you,” snarled Squat, his reddish eyes bouncing from Flavio to TJ. “You know what I’m saying, honey. Right?” he grinned at TJ when he said this.
It was just reflexive recoil when TJ socked him with her balled-up fist. A smile crept up her face, though she tried to hold it back, so that she wouldn’t pop the new stitches in her cheek. She rather enjoyed this, desperately wanting to put on a world of hurt on this dirty, sneering perverted man, who happened to be a symptomatic like her.
Squat attempted to wiggle his hands and legs free from his tightened table restraints. His head was strapped down as well, an extra measure by Flavio, not trusting the thick straps to completely hold the monster down.
They were tasked by the captain to get information from this man they called Squat, and to do so ‘by any means.’
‘Any means’ gave her a lot of latitude in the interrogation and she planned to take full advantage of this order.
“You’re wasting your time. You know I don’t feel pain. And at some point I’ll find a way to get free. Then I’ll kill and eat each of you. But you...” again he turned to TJ, “I’ll lick you first, before I—”
TJ struck him in the Adam’s apple, her hand stiff like a chopping knife.
A spate of uncontrollable coughing erupted from Squat.
TJ let her smile curl up high, feeling the tug of her stitches reach their limit, while readjusting her crutch under the other armpit.
“Just tell us why you wanted our ship and our food. We have little raw meat and that’s what you eat, right? And why hurt engines?” Flavio asked, scrutinizing the small, bulbous man with the deep-set scar in his mug.
“You...” Squat was trying to say something, but then burst out into a fit of laughter and coughing.
“This get us nowhere,” bellowed Flavio. “Answer questions or I just kill you myself.”
“You people really are”—he cleared his throat—“stupid, aren’t you? You said it yourself. We only eat raw meat.”
Once again, he leered at TJ, his tongue sticking out slightly. “Aside from this tasty one, I was going to have the pick of any of your passengers. And with three thousand, we weren’t going to go hungry for a long time. And you brought your own food. We just couldn’t believe our luck when you showed up. It was like a farmer bringing us fresh farm animals and the animals agreed to fatten themselves up with their own food. You were so gullible to think that we would give you fuel for just a little fo—”
TJ had had enough. This time, with her free hand, she struck him with a heavy metal tray she’d found on the table next to them, almost falling over in the process.
~~~
Tomas had pretended not to know Sal’s real plans, mostly to protect himself. He figured if Sal cared enough not to let him know that they were planning to eat everyone lured to their island, he must want him around for a while.
But it had gone too far and he was just tired of being scared all the time. He lived in constant fear of his boss’ anger or one of his boss’ lieutenants or of one of the crazies, who he knew wanted to kill him and tear him apart. He was done accepting his fate.
When this cruise ship thwarted their actions, he thought there might be a chance, a way for him to stop this monster and for him to get off this island and go someplace safe.
He shuddered in anticipation.
“You’re shivering. You should have brought a jacket,” Sal said, his attention mostly on the Intrepid off their port side.
“All right, hold up there.” Sal pointed to a spot on the starboard side of the Intrepid’s bridge. “Guess I don’t need these things.” He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the small table beside Tomas. Sal flashed his dark red eyes at him. “I’m going to make our demands known,” Sal said, snatching a bullhorn from a rack before punching open the door of their little bridge.
A swirl of rainwater poured in and then the door slammed shut.
Tomas watched his boss splash his way to their weapon on their boat
’s forecastle, all loaded and ready. Sal turned back to Tomas and held up his palm, indicating he wanted to stop here.
Tomas pulled the boat’s throttle all the way back, causing them to slow to a couple of knots. He reversed the engines to halt their drafting, when he heard his boss’s voice over the bullhorn.
“Ahoy there, Captain Jean Pierre Haddock of the Intrepid. This is Salvadore Calderon. We met a short time ago. Apparently I didn’t make my demands clear; instead I attempted subterfuge, when clearly I’m dealing with an intelligent man. So I’ll make myself perfectly clear now and I’m only going to say this once, so you better be listening, Captain Haddock of the Intrepid. You are to surrender your ship in the next two minutes or I will sink it. Is that clear enough?”
Sal placed his bullhorn on the wet ground by his feet, horn down, stood back up, straightened himself and then swung the 12.7 mm machine gun around so that it was pointed right at the cruise ship.
Tomas mentally counted down sixty seconds.
Ninety seconds later, the Intrepid’s captain appeared on the swing deck about thirty feet above them. He too had a bullhorn in his hand. He held it up, causing it to squeak first. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists. Leave now and our security will not shoot and destroy you.” He put his bullhorn down and appeared to wait for Sal’s reply.
Tomas knew this game. It was called the game of chicken. Whoever chickened out first and pulled their car aside before both cars careened into each other, head on, was the loser.
The captain’s response must have incensed Sal, because he kicked the bullhorn, sending it clattering against the other side of the boat he couldn’t see. Sal first aimed at the captain, but then lifted the barrel high in the sky, aiming the large gun over the ship. That way, the captain could see Sal was purposely trying to miss, but only this time: the equivalent of accelerating your car to force the other guy to chicken out faster. Sal fired, sending twenty tracer rounds over the Intrepid’s bridge.
Tomas needed to end this game now, before it was too late.
He stepped out into the rain, slowly pacing to his boss, who had his back to him, all his attention focused on the Intrepid’s swing deck.
Tomas focused on Sal’s head, willing it to not turn back to him.
The rain hid his splashing footsteps, bathing the world around them in a loud, pattering drumbeat.
When Tomas was halfway from the bridge to Sal, he drew his Beretta, hidden beneath his shirt, and held it low and slightly behind him, so that Sal couldn’t see it.
Sal huffed and murmured a fusillade of words under his breath, all of them not good. He was getting very angry again. This time, Sal swung the gun down, aiming the sight’s crosshairs at the Intrepid’s bow, right around its water line. The rounds were armor piercing, so Tomas imagined they’d go through their hull fairly easily. The Intrepid wouldn’t survive if Sal fired the gun from bow to stern, even if he only sent over half of the rounds he was loaded for.
Tomas was three meters away now, raising his pistol and aiming directly at Sal’s head.
Sal pulled back on the machine gun’s charging bolt once again, readying the 12.7x108mm rounds for their intended destination, obviously figuring if he couldn’t have this ship, he wouldn’t let anyone else have it.
Two meters away, Tomas clicked the safety off.
“Really?” Sal yelled loud enough that Tomas could hear him in the rain. “Do you really think you could fool me, Tomas?”
Tomas halted, his arm starting to quiver, along with his nerve.
“I knew this was what you were planning...”—Tomas wasn’t sure if he was pausing for effect or thinking out loud—“That’s why I removed a round from the chamber... You’ll now have to chamber a round before you can shoot and you know in that time, I can turn around and rip your throat out. Or Tomas, you can lay your gun down and join me.”
Tomas thought about what Sal said, now unsure if Sal was bluffing or not. Tomas always checked the chamber of his weapon before he holstered it and Sal knew this. But Sal had him remove his weapon and holster earlier and Tomas was so nervous about hiding the gun under his shirt, he didn’t remember checking it.
He pulled the trigger anyway.
The sound was hollow, but his bullet struck home with all the force he needed.
Sal’s head buffeted back, but he didn’t go down. Sal turned and faced him, his evil-looking eyes taunting him for more.
Tomas didn’t hesitate. He put another round in Sal’s head and four more into his body, until the man went down for good. Sal had been super-human, but he could still die like all humans.
Tomas dropped his Beretta, pulled his head up and immediately saw that a rifle was trained on him from the swing deck. He dropped down, ducking out of sight, and scooted over to the bullhorn.
He shook off its coating of water and held the bullhorn to his lips. “Please don’t shoot me. I’m not one of them. He forced me to be here.”
Raising up, unprotected by the hull, Tomas held both of his hands high in the air. He waited to be fired upon, not really caring anymore.
114
Four Orders
Jean Pierre made Tomas wait almost eight hours before allowing him to come aboard. It wasn’t to punish or some sort of plan to wear down a potential combatant. Jean Pierre and his crew simply had a lot of work to do first, before they’d let anyone else on board.
In suite 8000, the captain convened his wardroom and invited his assistant security director and his environmental compliance officer to join them. He first discussed their preliminary status and then he went into his four orders, making sure they all understood and gave him their feedback. He sent them on their way and returned to the bridge.
At precisely, 10:30 AM, Jean Pierre stood in front of the ship’s intercom and clicked the microphone button.
“Attention all crew of the Intrepid, both new and old. It is now safe to come out of your cabins as the danger has passed. I will address you all in the coming days and explain in more detail what has happened and what our situation is, but there is much work we must do right now.
“To this end, I have issued four orders to all of my crew, and that includes you. The first two have already been given to my most senior crew and they are executing them as I speak. The last two relate to everyone else who is currently on this ship.
“The four orders are as follows: first, to put a safe distance between us and the island’s port; the second, to make sure we are properly fueled and then detached from the refueling barge on our starboard side; the third is to make sure there are no more combatants from the island or parasitics on board; and the fourth order is to clean up the mess.
“Because you are all a part of my crew and we are all in this together, I’m making you aware of all my orders. Again, only my third and fourth orders apply to everyone hearing this.
“We believe the immediate threat is over. The parasitics, which we had been holding in our Wayfarer Lounge, are no longer on the ship. Additionally, even though we let several on board, there should be no more guests from the island”—Jean-Pierre chose not yet to reveal their symptomatic nature—“on board.
“I won’t lie to you; many have perished at the hands of the islanders and the parasitics. And many of them were killed as well. But the threat has passed.
“That's where you come in, and this leads to my third and fourth orders, which I am now giving to each of you.
“Everyone with a last name beginning with the letters A through L is on search patrol. Everyone with a last name beginning with the letters M through Z is on clean-up patrol.
“First, to the search patrol. Your job, beginning at the conclusion of this announcement, is to scour every cabin and every room on the entire ship, from deck 3 all the way up to the highest observation deck. You are looking for any islanders or parasitics. If you see either, alive or dead, do not engage them by yourselves. Call attention to any of our personnel wearing Regal European Blue. They will have our security staff toss t
hem off the ship.
“For our clean-up patrol, your job is equally important. Besides cleaning up the debris in the areas that were damaged, so as to minimize any future hazards, you will also help us with identification and disposal of any bodies. If you find a dead body, please do not touch it yourselves. Report this to one of our personnel wearing Regal European Blue, and they will tell you what to do.
“Our personnel wearing Regal European Blue are already making their way to various locations. If you’re unsure what to do, simply ask them.
“For both groups, consider this the ultimate scavenger hunt, where the prize is not a bottle of wine or fine dining, but all of our survival. Your work in the next few hours may be just that important.
“Those are my orders. As a member of my crew, I expect each of you to follow them. Thank you for your cooperation.
“This is your captain, Jean-Pierre Haddock. Out.”
~~~
Flavio was tasked to lead a team to carry out the captain’s first order: giving them a safe distance from Vila de Corvo’s port. This order posed their biggest challenge. They certainly didn’t want any more unauthorized boardings and having their port side moored to this dock left them too exposed and vulnerable. And that’s where their challenge initially appeared greatest. On this, they realized quickly they had caught their biggest break.
Flavio had personally just dumped all of their parasitics out their exit and onto the dock, with another thirty parasitics, all of whom were hungry, angry and anxious to get back on board and make a meal out of his crew the moment they opened up their gangway again.
He was told that they couldn’t just abandon the mooring lines, because they had a limited quantity of the specially designed rope on board and they had already cut one free when they had to flee the Port of Malaga.
