Blood Cruise: A Deep Sea Thriller

by Jake Bible

  “Maggie is probably still passed out,” Ben said, but shut up as Tony shot him a harsh glare.

  “I want to hear from you in ten minutes,” Tony said. “You got that, Joey? Ten minutes whether you have the women or not. We clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Joey replied. “Ten minutes.”

  Tony tossed the radio onto the instrument panel in front of him and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. He took a deep breath, let it out, picked up a different radio and double clicked the transmitter button.

  “Mikey? Where you at?” Tony asked.

  There was a squeal of static before a crackling voice responded.

  “Getting the speedboat tied up to the ship,” Mikey replied, his voice sounding muffled and far off.

  “They’ll need to watch that speedboat closely,” Captain Staggs said. “That ship is still shifting around a lot. Won’t take much for it to crush the speedboat.”

  “Mikey? Make sure Sheeran knows how to tie up that speedboat, okay? That’s your way back,” Tony said. “And keep an eye on Ms. Romanski.”

  Mikey started to respond then cried out.

  “Don’t worry about me, Tony,” Niya said, having obviously taken the radio from Mikey. “I can handle myself just fine.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Tony said. “And give the radio back to my guy, will ya?”

  There was some muffled scuffling and Ben could hear Nick in the background snapping at someone.

  “We’re tied up and Sheeran is bitching about the waves,” Mikey said. “I’ll radio back as soon as we have confirmation of the cargo.”

  “You do that,” Tony said. The second radio was tossed onto the instrument panel and Tony turned his full attention to the darkness outside the bridge’s windows. “This thing have any floodlights? Shine them over at the other ship, Cap.”

  “This thing does not have floodlights like that,” Captain Staggs said. “Not accessible from the bridge. There are some auxiliary lights down on the main deck, but they are small and meant to illuminate approaching vessels, not a ship as far off as the one we are following.”

  “Sixty-five million dollars and this stupid boat don’t have floodlights,” Tony said. “What a gyp.”

  “You know that’s a racist saying,” Ben said. “Gyp. It’s short for gypsy and comes from…” He trailed off as he saw the look Tony was giving him. “Never mind.”

  “You know why I want you up here, Blogger Boy?” Tony asked as he walked over and sat down right next to Ben so their hips were touching. “You know why I want you on the bridge with me instead of locked in that game room with the others?”

  “Others minus Jessica and Maggie, you mean,” Ben said.

  “You want to get shot?” Tony asked.

  “No, sorry,” Ben said.

  “I have you up here because I respect you,” Tony said. “May not seem like it, but I do. I watched you play cards and you are as good as they say. But I know you’ve been around, seen some things, know some people, and you aren’t exactly a virgin to this life.”

  “You want me up here because you’re worried I’ll pull something and figure out how to take you down,” Ben said.

  “What?” Tony laughed. “No. Not even close. Don’t make me second guess my choice, Blogger Boy.”

  “Then why do you want me here with you?” Ben asked. “I’m too tired and stressed to figure it out on my own.”

  “Because I know the others below will try something,” Tony said. “I need you to convince them not to when the time comes. To remind them that they have family members that are far from safe. You are persuasive with words.” Tony waved his pistol back and forth. “I’m persuasive with this. I’d like to get through the next few hours without using this. I know I got some corrupt part of INTERPOL up my butt already. I don’t need any of our poker friends’ associates deciding a vendetta needs paying if harm comes to them.”

  “But you don’t mind harming their families? Or mine?” Ben asked.

  “I mind,” Tony said. “I honestly do. I have family of my own.”

  “Then why not let us go?” Ben asked. “We could take the speedboats and get out of here.”

  “I wouldn’t advise that in this weather,” Captain Staggs said.

  “He wouldn’t advise that,” Tony said and rolled his eyes. “But I don’t care about the weather. Let’s just say I’m keeping all of you around as insurance. I have some associates I recently met coming to take the ship off my hands once I confirm it holds what it is supposed to.”

  “But you trust those associates less than you trust me or the others below,” Ben said. “Things go wrong and we’re all forced to help you because of our family members. We’re your back up.”

  “Something like that,” Tony said.

  “Answer me one question,” Ben said. “Why did you need to do any of this? You come from a pretty big organization. Why not just keep it all in house and handle this on your own? I’m calculating the variables and you have increased your risk potential by infinity when you decided to use Nick and this poker game to make your play.”

  “You get along with everyone in your family, Blogger Boy?” Tony asked.

  “Is that a serious question?” Ben responded.

  “That’s what I thought,” Tony said and smiled. “Yeah, my organization is pretty damn big. It’s also just like a family. More so than Garfield’s organization or Whittier’s or Holstein’s. Closer to Romanski’s, but even the Russians don’t do family business like we do.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be doing any of this, are you?” Ben laughed. “If this goes wrong then you’ll have your whole family on your ass.”

  “Again, something like that,” Tony said. “Did things get out of hand tonight? Yes. I’ll admit that. But as long as the outcome ends up the way I want then you and the others have nothing to worry about. In fact, I may compensate you all for your troubles. My new associates may not be handing me a blank check, but it’s pretty damn close, Blogger Boy. Pretty damn close.”

  “Boss? You there?” Mikey called out from the radio.

  “Showtime,” Tony said then frowned. He looked at Ben. “That too much? I’ve been reading some business blogs and they say you need to build a brand to be successful, no matter what your business is. Catch phrases and slogans are one way to do that. You think ‘It’s showtime’ is good or too cliché?”

  “If your brand is as an eighties movie villain then it’s perfect,” Ben said.

  Tony laughed and shook a finger at him. “You do have balls, Blogger Boy. I’d cut them off and shove them in your smart mouth, but I did ask for your opinion.”

  “I like my balls where they are,” Ben said.

  “Don’t we all,” Tony said as he picked up the radio. “What you got, Mikey?”

  34.

  “We’re in the ship, boss,” Mikey said into the radio as he waved his rifle at Nick. “Get a move on, Sheeran. You’re going first.”

  “What was that?” Tony asked over the radio.

  “Nothing, boss,” Mikey said. “Just telling Sheeran to hurry his ass up.”

  “It’s dark as hell in here,” Nick said as he opened a hatch and peered down into the deep blackness of the ship. “Anyone bring a flashlight?”

  Chip stepped up and smacked one against his shoulder.

  “Get going,” Chip snarled and gave Nick a nudge with the barrel of his rifle. He glanced back at Niya. “Then you, lady. No way I’m moving around in the dark with you at my back.”

  “I don’t have to be at your back to kill you,” Niya said, but didn’t argue as she stepped behind Nick.

  The four of them descended the stairs to the next deck. Nick shone the light around and stumbled a little at the shock of what was before him.

  “Is that blood?” Nick whispered. “Am I looking at blood? Because that’s a lot of blood.”

  “Hey, boss?” Mikey called out. “Things already ain’t right here.”

  “Didn’t expect them to be,”
Tony said. “I was told the ship might be in some distress when we find it. Just follow the instructions I gave you and work your way to the fifth deck down. There should be a vault there. If we’re lucky, someone will be there to meet you. Don’t matter if they are or not. You know what you need to confirm, so confirm it and I’ll make the call.”

  “Okay, boss,” Mikey replied. “I’ll call ya back when I know more.”

  “You do that,” Tony said and the radio went silent.

  Mikey tucked the radio into his belt then put both hands on his rifle. “Keep moving, Sheeran. This ain’t the first time you’ve seen blood.”

  “Not this much blood, man,” Nick said as he took a deep breath through his nose then shook his head. “Oh, man, that stinks. Is blood supposed to smell like that?”

  “That’s not just blood,” Niya replied, her .45s out and in both hands. “That’s death. I can smell piss and shit.”

  “Something else,” Chip said.

  Niya looked over her shoulder at the man and gave him a sweet smile.

  “Yes, there is something else,” Niya said. “What is it?”

  “Pussy,” Chip said. “Smells like pussy.”

  “Dude,” Nick said. “Not the thing you say to a lady like Ms. Romanski.”

  “No, Mr. Sheeran, it’s not,” Niya said. “But I’m not going to faint because of it. I am well aware of what pussy smells like and Chip here is very wrong. You are smelling sea life. The fact you attributed it to female genitalia tells me that you probably don’t have a serious girlfriend.”

  “That ain’t true,” Chip said. “I got a couple of them.”

  “Then my condolences to the women in your life,” Niya said. Chip started to respond, but Niya held up one of the .45s. “Don’t. We need to be quiet and pay attention.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said as he swallowed hard and aimed the flashlight at the end of the blood-coated passageway. “Paying attention is good because I see a foot up ahead.”

  The four of them made their way slowly down the passageway, their shoes making loud squelching sounds in the sticky blood that had coagulated on the floor. With every step closer, Nick visibly stiffened until he was moving like a wooden robot.

  “Let me take point,” Niya said and moved in front of Nick. “But keep that flashlight aimed ahead. Can you handle that, Mr. Sheeran?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I can handle that,” Nick said.

  Nick aimed the flashlight’s beam directly at the foot that was clad in a heavy black boot. Niya approached the corner cautiously then swung around fast, both pistols up and ready. She shook her head and kicked at the foot. It rolled across the floor. Alone. Unconnected to a leg or a body.

  “If you are upset by the blood in that passageway then I would advise you prepare to suck it up, boys,” Niya said as she nodded at the passageway she faced. “It’s about to get a lot worse.”

  Nick stopped where he stood, but a hard jab by Mikey’s rifle got him moving again and he staggered around the corner, almost bumping into Niya. He lifted the flashlight, stared at the scene before him, then turned and threw up.

  “That is not being prepared,” Niya said.

  Chip and Mikey came around the corner, rifles to their shoulders, faces set like granite. They both turned around and puked, adding their sick to Nick’s pile. Niya grumbled then elbowed Nick in the ribs.

  “Stand up and keep moving,” Niya said. “We have three decks to cover.”

  “Great,” Nick said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  The passageway was littered with severed body parts. Boot-clad feet, bare feet, glove-clad hands, bare hands. Arms, full and partial; legs in the same shape. A head here, a dismembered torso there. And enough blood to keep a vampire happy for eternity.

  “More stairs down that way,” Mikey said, spitting on the floor again and again. “Get moving.”

  “Are none of you worried by any of this?” Nick asked. “These bodies were ripped apart, man. Ripped the fuck apart! How?”

  “Not our problem,” Chip said.

  “Seriously, dude?” Nick snapped. “Not our problem is your answer? I’m thinking maybe you aren’t appreciating exactly what we’re seeing here!”

  “Whoever did this might still be on board,” Niya said to Nick. “You want to keep yelling and letting them know our position?”

  “Well, no,” Nick said. “But, still…” He waved the flashlight around.

  “I see your point,” Niya sighed. “But Mr. Giraldi is under the impression that we were to expect this. We keep moving and find this vault.”

  “Better be nothing but gold in that vault,” Nick muttered as he carefully worked his way through the body parts, following directly behind Niya as the woman led the way. “And my yacht sale better be real when this is all done. Tony can’t go back on that, right?”

  “You are nothing if not single minded, Mr. Sheeran,” Niya said. “You are also annoying. Quiet for the rest of the time or I slice your tongue out.”

  Nick almost replied, but clamped his mouth closed instead.

  “Very good,” Niya said. “Here are the stairs.”

  The flashlight showed a set of stairs just as bloody as the passageways behind them. No body parts, though, so other than the occasional slip of the heel, the way down to the next deck was uneventful.

  They made their way through the next passageway and then the next before they came to something that made even Niya pull up short and gasp.

  “What are they doing?” Chip asked. “Why are they like that?”

  Niya kept her pistols up and trained on the eight bodies arranged on the passageway floor. They were seated in a circle and facing each other, their hands in their laps and their legs crossed. The problem was that none of the legs or arms matched the bodies they were attached to. None of the heads did either as facial skin tone clashed with the skin tone of the necks the heads were precariously perched on.

  “Is this some serial killer cruise ship or what?” Nick asked.

  Niya inched closer and closer then waved Nick forward. “I need light.”

  Reluctantly, Nick followed her until they both stood directly next to the macabre-looking tea party. Niya knelt down and studied the first body closely. She sniffed it and drew her head back quickly.

  “There’s something on them,” Niya said.

  She placed one of her pistols in its holster then reached out and ran her fingers across the jagged edges where the body’s neck and head were joined together. She held up her fingers to the light, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together.

  “More blood,” Nick said.

  “No, it’s not blood,” Niya replied.

  “It looks like blood,” Nick said.

  “Is blood black?” Niya asked.

  “What?” Nick replied and bent closer. “Oh. Yeah, I see what you mean. Not blood.”

  “What is it?” Mikey asked from the spot where he and Chip stood, several feet back and away from the circle of corpses.

  “Ink,” Niya said. “That pussy that you smelled? It’s ink.”

  “Ink?” Nick asked. “Why the hell would there be ink on these bodies? Who would do that?”

  “What would do that is a better question,” Niya said, standing up. She held out her free hand. “Give me the radio.”

  “Can’t do that,” Mikey said. “You got something to say then you say it to me and I say it to Mr. Giraldi.”

  “Never mind,” Niya said. “I have an idea of what is going on. I heard the same rumors as Mr. Giraldi, I just didn’t act on them. Looks like my reticence didn’t matter in the end.”

  “Want to fill me in?” Nick asked.

  “No,” Niya said. “But I suggest we retreat back to the speedboat and get away from this ship as soon as possible.”

  “That’s not happening,” Mikey said. He and Chip raised their rifles and took aim at Niya. They pretty much ignored Nick. “We keep going. I have been given a job to confirm the package for Mr. Giraldi. That’s what we are go
ing to do.”

  “Can’t really confirm anything if you are dead,” Niya said.

  “We’ve been told the package is contained,” Mikey said. “If I return without confirmation then Mr. Giraldi will gut me and toss me overboard.” He waved his rifle at the bodies. “I don’t know what did this, but it don’t scare me as much as Mr. Giraldi.”

  Chip nodded in agreement.

  “Contained?” Niya laughed. “Does this look contained?”

  “Something bad happened, I ain’t denying that,” Mikey said. “But if Mr. Giraldi tells me the package is contained then the package is contained. You didn’t have to come along, but you did, so that means you do what Mr. Giraldi wants.”

  “That’s not what that means, but I’ll keep playing along,” Niya said. “Mr. Sheeran? You can stop shining the light on these poor men. They are dead. That has been confirmed. Let’s go confirm that the package is contained like Mr. Giraldi believes it to be. Because confirmation will keep us safe according to the genius over here.”

  “This package, it’s not gold, is it?” Nick asked. “And it likes to play with ink? Are we talking about a cyborg printing press or something?”

  “You are a funny man,” Niya said. “A complete coward, but funny nonetheless. If you live through all this, we may have to get drinks. I like funny men. We can work on the cowardice part.”

  “Drinks are good,” Nick said. “Would now be a good time?”

  “Shut up and walk,” Mikey ordered.

  “Right. Maybe later,” Nick said. “We have to confirm that the ghost of Gutenberg the Ripper is still locked in his vault. Gotcha.”

  35.

  Joey knocked a second time, waited for thirty seconds, then stepped away from the cabin door and kicked out hard, his foot hitting the spot right below the handle. The doorframe cracked and the door swung inward. Joey rushed inside, his rifle covering the cabin with a fast sweep to the right then back to the left.