Jack tackled the overweight man just as Joma was about to fall over. Immediately Jack started to pummel his fists into the man’s pudgy face, not because he had any hope of incapacitating him, but because it would at least keep the fat bastard down.
“Joma, find me a weapon,” he shouted. “Something solid.”
After a moment of shocked inactivity, Joma got moving, leaving Jack to deal with the overweight man on the floor. Along with the blood spewing forth from the man’s eyes, Jack’s barrage of punches had left his face a crimson mask. He was still snarling, though, ready to bite.
Jack was so consumed with keeping his current opponent down on his back that he did not see the other infected passenger coming up on his flank. The man leapt onto Jack’s back and instantly began biting and tearing at the back of his neck. Jack screamed out as he felt a chunk of flesh come away from the bone. He shot to his feet with the passenger still clinging to his back. The overweight man began to rise to his feet in front of him. Jack knew there was no way he could defend against both of them.
Suddenly the weight removed itself from Jack’s back. He spun around to find Joma standing over the body of the infected passenger with a heavy, glass ashtray. One corner of it was covered with blood and matted hair. Jack snatched it away from Joma and quickly turned to the overweight man who was now fully on his feet.
Jack brought the ashtray down on the man’s head and the heavy object made contact with a resounding thud! No other blows were necessary.
“Okay,” said Jack, panting and out of breath. “Let’s barricade ourselves back in the office. We only have to wait until midnight.”
***
The infected were trying their best to get in, but with the sofa-cube pushed in front of the office door and several bar tables placed on the other side as an obstacle course, Jack and Joma were relatively safe. Safe enough that Jack had relaxed sufficiently to polish off almost a quarter bottle of whisky. The fuzzy feeling in the bottom of his guts was pleasant and almost made him forget the horror on the other side of the door. The bite on his neck had stopped bleeding and was now just tacky and moist. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
“You need to end this,” said Joma, flinching as something unseen was tipped over in the lounge. “Time is running out.”
“What do you mean?” Jack took another swig of liquor. “You still haven’t told me what the hell it is I’m supposed to do. Is it still against the rules now that your cover is blown?”
“No,” said Joma. “You found me, which makes anything I say to you a consequence of your actions, not mine. It is now within the rules that I tell you what you need to know.”
“So tell me already!” Jack almost shouted it. “I’m tired, Joma. So goddamn tired of this shit.”
Joma rubbed at his face and seemed to have yet more wrinkles. “This virus…. It’s not just a danger to the passengers on this ship. It’s going to wipe out the entire world.”
“You’re shitting me?” Jack gulped the whisky down to halfway and let out a long sigh. “And you know this how?”
“I saw it, Jack. People like me, those that can see the pathways, have dreams. These dreams show us glimpses of the future – especially tragic events. We see death on a grand scale. A person’s death causes a small pulse in the fabric of existence, but when many people die at once it creates a ripple that travels in all directions – including backwards. When one of these ripples travels backwards it can reach some people through their dreams. I dreamt of this ship, Jack. I dreamt of the virus. I saw the end.”
“What, so this virus turns into…what? An epidemic?”
“More like a global pandemic. It will wipe the earth clean of life in less than a year. It will infect a dozen different species, as well as humans, and the world will fall apart. The infected will attack the healthy. It will be hell on earth.”
“But…how does it happen?”
“The ship will dock in Cannes and the virus will immediately spread throughout Europe and into Asia, reaching farther afield through national airports and contaminated food shipments. Once this ship hits the mainland it becomes unstoppable.”
“I don’t get it. Who would want to unleash something like this?”
Joma shrugged. “I don’t know, Jack. When I had the dream, I caught short flashes of the man responsible, but for some reason I kept getting images of a…of a doll’s face, or something. It was strange. Anyway, I doubt they expected the virus to exterminate mankind. It was probably just a terrorist act supposed to cause an international incident akin to 9/11. I don’t think they understood the immensity of what they were in possession of. All I know for sure is that if you do not stop this virus from reaching the shores of France, everyone is doomed.”
Jack felt faint. The throbbing of his neck wound had progressed to a full-on drumbeat pounding in his ears. “So what do I do? How do I stop it?”
Joma seemed to deflate. “I don’t know. I just knew the danger was coming and acted as fast as I could to stop tomorrow arriving until you could find a solution.”
Jack took another swig of whisky and felt himself getting a little dizzy. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the surrealism of the conversation. “How did you stop tomorrow coming? Tally said that you’re a pathwalker and that you can see alternate realities or something, but how did you mess with time itself?”
“By giving up the essence of my soul.”
Jack found himself laughing at the drama of the statement, but then he thought about what it meant. “What do you mean? Is that why you’re older than you were?”
“I’m dying Jack. Every time the day resets and I hold back tomorrow, I age. Only eight or nine days at a time, but eventually I’ll run out of life and then the spell will break with my death. You have to put a stop to this before it puts a stop to me. There is a candle in my room that gets smaller every day. It is how I fused my essence into the flow of time and gave myself the power to manipulate it.”
Jack shook his head and looked at Joma. The man was already looking haggard and drawn. He hated to think how he would look in another week or two. “So, to save the world you had to give up your life?”
“It’s my purpose, Jack. Many of my ancestors have done the same. Global catastrophe is something that threatens us more often than you would think, and it always starts with a small-minded group of people with a big idea. I was born knowing that I may have to die before my time. That is the burden people like me carry – it is both our honour and our burden. Don’t make my premature ending be in vain, Jack. You must find a way to stop this. You have to-”
“Joma!” Jack staggered from the cube sofa and on to his knees. There was a burning in his stomach that was in contrast to the numbness everywhere else. He stared up at Joma and saw the man through a red-hazed filter. “Joma,” he repeated. “The bite wound on my neck…I’m changing. You have to…”
Joma raised the bloody, glass ashtray above his head and brought it down hard.
Day 247
Jack sat up in bed and cursed out loud. His death had cut his conversation with Joma short just when things were becoming clearer to him. While he had learned many of the answers he had sought about what was going on, he still had no idea what the hell he needed to do. Joma had said that time was running out and that if Jack didn’t stop the virus it would wipe out the world. It was time to focus.
Jack went into the bathroom to take a cold shower and clear his mind. As he lathered himself clean, Jack tried to the pieces together. If Joma’s dreams were to be taken literally, then the person responsible for the outbreak had something to do with dolls of all things. It also seemed that Tally was involved somehow, and that Donovan seemed to have been nothing but an unlucky bystander. Jack himself was only in this mess because his life lacked any meaning. He was just a lost soul with nothing to lose – a perfect martyr.
Once his shower was over with, Jack got dressed and thought about where to go next. He didn’t know how to find Joma during the d
ay and he couldn’t waste time looking for him. They would catch up later at the Voyager Lounge, but until then his only priority was finding a way to contain the virus and stop it infecting the mainland.
No sweat. What can go wrong?
There was a knock at the door and Jack suddenly realised what a fool he’d been. With all that was going on, he had totally forgotten that Security would be coming for him. Jack had to get out of his cabin, but the only way out was through the room’s only exit. There would be no avoiding the guards outside.
Jack opened his door and immediately took a swing. He clocked the bearded man on the left with a haymaker and then pulled back his fist and backhanded the man on the right. Both guards stumbled backwards, but remained on their feet. Jack tried then to get past them, but the wispy-bearded guard made a grab for him. Jack tried to struggle free but, as he twisted away, the other guard made a tackle at his thighs, knocking him off balance. The three of them fell to the floor in a heap, with Jack crushed at the bottom.
Jack was powerless to resist as his arms were secured behind his back with zipties. The plastic cords pinched at his flesh. He could do nothing as the guards hoisted him to his feet and took him to the brig.
I don’t have time for this, thought Jack. Joma doesn’t have time for this.
***
They stuck Jack in the same office as before and left him to wait for the Captain to arrive. He started to think that perhaps he was about to have a golden opportunity to stop the virus. If he could convince Marangakis that there was a deadly virus loose onboard then perhaps he could quarantine the ship and alert the authorities. If the people on the mainland knew what to expect then perhaps they could keep the whole thing contained.
The captain entered the room and Jack stood up to greet him. His offer of a handshake was declined.
Of course, thought Jack. He thinks I’m a rapist.
“Captain Marangakis. I am aware of the serious accusations that a waitress named Tally has made against me, but I assure you that they are ludicrous. She has an agenda, of which I am not fully informed of yet, but I would ask that you put her petty vindictiveness to one side for the moment, because there is something far more important we need to discuss.”
The Captain’s interest seemed to have been piqued. He took a seat opposite Jack and stared him in the eye. “What are you talking about?”
“There is a weapon onboard this ship – and I don’t mean the illegal shipment of arms you have in the hold.”
The Captain leant back in his seat and seemed surprised. “A weapon you say?”
“Yes, sir. A biological one. Someone onboard has released a virus among the passengers. If you take a walk around the ship right now you will see that about one third of the people onboard have developed cold-like symptoms. By the end of tonight, most of them will be dead and the entire ship will be infected. You have to quarantine everyone to their cabins and keep them there. You have to tell the French Government to be ready for us when we make port. This cannot get out on the mainland.”
“Utter nonsense,” said the captain. “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve, my friend, but I will not allow you to cause a panic aboard my ship. My doctor has already informed me of there being a nasty cold going around, but he has assured me that it is nothing to worry about. Your claims are unsubstantiated and you are just trying to subvert attention from the crime you have committed.”
“Allegedly,” Jack corrected the man. “Tally has made an allegation. That doesn’t make it true. And, as for Doctor Fortuné, with all due respect he has no idea what he’s up against. No one has ever seen anything like this virus before.”
The captain grinned. “This mysterious pathogen of yours gets better and better. I suppose you’re going to tell me next that it’s more contagious than AIDS and deadlier than cancer.”
“You don’t catch AIDS, Captain. You catch HIV which develops into AIDS. Anyway, the virus onboard this ship makes AIDS seem like a sore throat. You have to take me seriously about this!”
“No,” stated Marangakis. “I do not. This is my ship and you are now my prisoner. You will be taken to the brig and detained until I can hand you over to the French authorities.”
“Okay,” said Jack. “Whatever you need to do, but please just put a call through to the mainland and warn them to take precautions. Tell them I’m a terrorist, for all I care, but take what I’m saying seriously. Please.”
The captain examined Jack, focusing on his face. He let out a sigh and clasped his hands together. “You realise that if I do as you ask, they will add terrorism to your list of offences. If you make empty threats about a virus onboard, you’ll be in a great deal more trouble than you are already in.”
Jack didn’t care what threats were made against him; he just wanted to put a stop to the festering evil once and for all. “I’m telling the truth,” he said. “Just, please, accept the chance that I may be right. Warn the mainland.”
The captain cleared his throat and stood up from his chair. “Fine, but on your head be it.” He left the room without a further word and Jack was taken to the cell that he was beginning to think of as his.
***
The infected attacked the passengers at a little after eight, just as Jack had suspected. He knew there was nothing he could do to prevent all the death onboard, but that wasn’t the point. This was a big-picture problem and all that mattered was preventing that death from spreading into the world. Jack hoped with all his being that, as midnight came and the ship grew quiet, with the last lives onboard being extinguished, morning would come and lead on to dawn. If that happened then the future would be corrected and Joma, having seen it was so, would retire his spell. The ship would reach the coast of France with all the passengers most probably dead – except for Jack locked safely away in his cell – and the authorities would take adequate precautions to contain the virus. This could all be over in a matter of hours.
Day 248
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Jack saw the alarm clock flashing 1400 on the bedside and smashed his fist against it. The unit shattered and Jack’s hand came away bloody. The pain was nothing compared to the frustration he felt. The best chance he’d had to end this thing had been a failure. Whether the captain had simply ignored his pleas to contact the mainland, or if he had and they still hadn’t been sufficiently prepared to contain the virus, the spell was still in place. Only Joma could tell him why. Only Joma could tell him whether or not his actions had meant a damn.
Jack got dressed and left in a hurry. He was in no mood to tussle with the security guards today. Every hour he wasted would kill Joma a little more. Jack sighed. He was getting tired of all the dying.
He still didn’t know where to find Joma during the day, but he didn’t have time to wait around until the evening. He headed for the Voyager’s Lounge and, when he got there, approached the man that was currently on duty behind the bar.
“Hey, there. I was looking for Joma.”
The man was polishing a glass with a stringy rag. His English was nowhere near as good as Joma’s. “He not here till half-seven, my friend.”
“Do you know where I could find him now?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t know. He a quiet man. He keep to himself.”
“Do you know which is his cabin?”
The man gave Jack a suspicious glance and placed the glass down on the bar. “I can no tell you that. You will have to speak to him later, here.”
“Please,” said Jack. “He is a friend of mine. I really need to speak with him.”
The man frowned, but then relented. “Okay, but you no cause trouble. His cabin is C14.”
Jack thanked the man and headed for C Deck.
The elevator seemed to take forever to descend and Jack almost leapt out into the corridor when the doors finally opened. He was now in the middle of C Deck. The lower-numbered cabins were towards the fore of the ship and Jack headed for number 14 cautiously, aware that the guards would probably be search
ing for him by now. When he reached the door he knocked quietly.
There was no answer.
Jack knocked again. “Joma? Joma, are you there?” He leant against the door, placing his ear against the wood to listen. As he did so, the door swung open slightly. The lock had been busted.
Jack pushed aside the door and tiptoed into the room, mindful of dark corners and other places someone could be hiding. “Joma? Are you okay? Call out, if you can.”
The room had been witness to a struggle. The television was knocked into a strange angle and the room’s telephone was hanging by its cord. At the back of the room was a small table; a thick white candle stood as its centre piece. The candle had melted down to a length of about only one inch and the flame had recently gone out. He could tell by the thin trail of smoke still filtering from its blackened tip. Jack’s guts turned over with concern as he noticed the blood on the bed.
Jack took several creeping steps across the room, following the blood trail that led to the far side of the bed. He knew he would find something horrible on the floor there. The feeling was undeniable, and once he had crossed the room, Jack realised that he was right.
Joma lay dead in a thick pool of his own blood. It seemed to still leak from a deep crater which had been bludgeoned into the side of his skull. The murder had been recent.
Jack dropped to his knees beside Joma and shook the man’s body. “Damnit, Joma! You can’t be dead. I don’t know what to do yet. I…I need more time.”
Joma opened his eyes. They were blood shot, not focusing properly, but they were alive. “Jack…”
Jack couldn’t believe it. “Yes, it’s me. What the hell has happened?”
Joma’s eyes closed again briefly but fluttered back open gradually. “T…t…”
“Tally? Are you trying to tell me that Tally did this?”
Sea Sick: A Novel of Horror and Suspense Page 16
