by Joshua Grant
--stopping once more, suddenly aware that he was no longer alone in the corridor. Someone was standing just in his peripheral (someone, not something thank God). Slowly, hesitantly, he looked up.
“The crew is dead,” Tom said plainly as if he was discussing something as mundane as the weather.
The bearded man suddenly broke into a smile, a half smile. A sick one.
“I’m dead too.”
Chapter 15
Deck 8, Starboard Hall
I don’t know how much time is left. I don’t even know why I’m taking the time to write this. There has to be some record I suppose. Something has to survive to chronicle what happened here. It’s been awhile since I heard gunshots or the screams. Oh God the screams—
The shaky writing faltered momentarily but picked up again.
I am resolved. Those of us that were left a few hours ago decided to begin making efforts to sink the ship. I, Thomas Anderville, First Officer of the Festival ship Emerald Rose, will take a different path. I pray my wife can forgive me for my cowardice. But people have to know what happened here.
We were just two days underway when Frank picked up the distress beacon. God, if only he hadn’t! We just didn’t know then. I’m sure Frank is around here still somewhere. I watched one of those things take him. He’ll be back. They always are.
The Captain ordered us to divert course. These are the kind of things best left to the Coast Guard, but the order came down right from the top brass back at headquarters. Something to do with some kind of important and expensive research project. I’ll be sure to tell Carver what I think of his little projects when I see him in hell.
Anyway, we found the source of the transmission, or what was left of it. The research vessel had only one survivor, at least that’s what we thought. Joke’s on us. We brought him aboard with the ship’s black box recorder. Contained a pretty log of what those boys were doing out here. We transmitted the whole thing back to the bosses. They were very interested. Maybe that should have been our first warning. The stuff in there…well, let’s just say everything that happened shouldn’t have been such a surprise. But then again, who in their right mind could believe it?
But whoever’s reading this had better believe it. If you want to live then don’t play the role of the skeptic. I’ve taken the time to transcribe as much of the La Magia’s log as possible. It’s up to you to do what you want with it, but make sure you believe it. And just remember, there are no survivors.
I’ve done my duty. I feel free now. Maybe I’ll hunt down old Frank and thank him properly for getting us in this mess in the first place. Yeah, two bullets should do the trick. It’s all I got.
Aubrey dropped the torn journal sheet back to the bed where she found it, her mind abuzz with more questions now than answers. She felt like she was going to be sick.
Carver you bastard! All along he knew what was going on out here. He may have even caused it!
The scientist in Aubrey told her not to jump to conclusions, at least not until she knew more. The gun-toting part of her wanted to put a slug in him at the soonest convenient opportunity.
The journal entry was a real find and it wasn’t alone. Upon entering the stateroom, Aubrey found several of the papers arrayed neatly on the bed. The display was in stark contrast to the rest of the tornado-stricken room. It was as if someone had removed these entries and laid them here for her to find, her specifically. Eerie would be the word if it didn’t creep her out so much.
Get a grip Aubrey. The boogey men aren’t out in force leaving bread crumbs for you to find.
At least that’s what she told herself before she picked up the first entry and read it. Something very unnatural was happening here. Anyone strolling down one of the broken hallways could have told her that. But something paranormal? Well, she’d have to see it to believe it, her apologies to Mr. Thomas Anderville.
Still, she read on in the hopes that some useful tidbit would spring up.
June 11 11:37PM
We found it! My God we found it! Jimmy has been trying to triangulate the source of the signal for nearly a week now. I can’t believe it myself. A signal from the bottom of the ocean! The science fiction nuts are going to be ecstatic. This is going to change the world, AND WE FOUND IT! Forgive my informality in the log, but they say it’s the lost city of Atlantis, it has to be, and it’s the discovery of a century, no, millennia! And I get to be one of the first people to see it! The La Magia will be in position in just a few hours. A few short hours and the world will never be the same! This had better not be some kind of advanced military sub we’ve stumbled upon. The signal it sent was beyond anything we’ve ever seen. Despite my excitement, I still have to ask myself who is transmitting? Guess we’ll know soon enough.
Aubrey flipped to the next scrap, her eyes hungrily reading.
June 12 5:20AM
Our boys in the sub should be back anytime now. The footage they transmitted is incredible, there’s no other way to describe it. If this is the great city of Atlantis, whatever calamity took her to the bottom of the ocean left but a lone structure standing. What I wouldn’t give to be down there with the research team right now. It should be noted that we’ve had some communication difficulties with the team upon entry to the structure. Could have something to do with the mysterious signal that summoned us here in the first place. It has ceased transmission since then. Guess we’re the only audience invited to this show. Unfortunately, the research team is the only ones with front row seats. The rest of us will have to settle for the second hand account when they return, unless Jimmy can do anything about these damned radios.
June 12 12:15PM
We have yet to be able to reach headquarters since our initial transmission yesterday evening. Five members of the research team went down there. Only two came back, and they’re somehow…different. We’ve tried to establish contact with the stranded members but all we get is static. I’ve had Jimmy on it for the past few hours. Everyone’s a little strung out. The two that came back, Parsons and Zachovi, haven’t cooperated with the ship doctors. They won’t answer my questions either or tell us what they saw. Whatever it was, it changed them. They’re cold and quiet. I’m going down there right now. So help me I’ll beat the answers out of them if I gotta!
Aubrey shakily picked up the final log entry.
JuNe 112
I feel itchy. Jimmy made me feel that way. He didn’t %s*a good enough.& I don’t like when they do that. Makes me itch. I gotta scratch it. I’ll find Lauren. She smiled at me the other day. Find her and then I can finally scratch it. Maybe she’ll smile. I’m so itchy.
Aubrey dropped the paper letting it flutter to rest with the others on the bed. She felt the intense need to scrub her hands. And Atlantis? Pandora’s Box? Murderous crewmen and ship disasters? It was like she had walked into some kind of adventure novel. If she wasn’t standing here in the middle of it she’d blame Carver for the most elaborate hoax ever conceived.
It’s bullshit, she decided angrily, all of it!
The swell of anger cooled as quickly as it came leaving an icy vacuum in her chest, leaving her feeling so lost. What the hell was going on? As much as she wanted to believe this was all fake, she had to admit that pieces of the story added up. The research vessel rescue. The interrupted communications. The dark pit that formed in her stomach when she looked at the documents. There was something here she needed to see, that she better not dismiss. Some important piece of the puzzle still eluded her, and that same dark pit told her it was imperative she find it.
Aubrey’s neck itched. She resisted the urge to scratch it.
“Did you find anything?”
She jumped hard at the small voice and swiveled to find Gabe standing in the stateroom’s thin entry hallway. “Gabe what the hell are—“
She paused when he winced. It was a knee jerk reaction and she instantly regretted it. “—what are you doing out here?” she said more softly. “You should be on the bridge with Mac.
”
Gabe shrugged. “Mac doesn’t like me.”
“That’s not true honey.”
“He said, ‘I don’t like you.’” Gabe countered.
That sounds like him. Aubrey stifled a smile. Gabe did a pretty good Mackenzie impression. “Look kiddo, it’s not safe for you to be out here.”
Gabe stared at her hard. “None of us are safe anywhere.” He pointed at the handgun nestled in her belt. “Those don’t help.”
Aubrey looked at the weapon, searching for the words. How could she tell a disaster survivor that everything was going to be okay, especially after finding some pretty damning evidence that everything was about as far from okay as humanly possible? She met Gabe’s gaze again and sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here.”
Gabe looked at her quizzically but complied, plopping down on the bed next to her.
“Sometimes bad things happen to good people. And when that happens, we don’t want to talk about it because we’re scared of what will happen when we do. People might look at us differently or think we’re crazy so we clam up or pretend it doesn’t bug us.” Aubrey swallowed hard, trying to find the words.
“But the truth is, it does bug us, and it hurts, and it’s sure as hell not fair. Pain like that isn’t something you want to keep bottled up. You can carry it for a week, or maybe a year, but eventually it’ll devour you unless you share it.”
Gabe nodded thoughtfully. “Are you talking about your daughter? The one that died?”
Aubrey stood up out of pure shock. Anger and hurt flashed to her cheeks followed by a slithering suspicion that she hated but couldn’t help. “How did you—“
“Mac told me,” Gabe answered in his regular neutral way. “He said I probably creeped you out too. That you were probably poking around out here to avoid thinking about her.”
Aubrey decided she’d add discretion to the list of things she’d discuss with Carver. The bastard must have shared her personal tragedy with the team. Not the boy’s fault. She slowly resumed her perch on the bed. “That’s not true kiddo. Well, not entirely. I have been running away from Jennifer’s death for so many years. Hell, I ran all the way out here. But you, kiddo, you don’t scare me.”
Gabe smirked. “You sure? I can try to be more scary if you like.”
Aubrey laughed, a good warm laugh, something she hadn’t had in a long time. “I think I’ve had enough scary for one lifetime. Plus you don’t want to startle me with this.” She patted the pistol.
“You didn’t shoot me the first time I jumped out at you,” Gabe pointed out. “That’s why I like you.”
Aubrey laughed again and Gabe smiled back. It was hard not to feel affection for this kid. Despite the odds, despite the tragedy and the rising waters (some of them literal), he had managed to stay afloat and maintain his positive demeanor in a way that only a kid could. Maybe Carver was right about one thing. Maybe she would find hope on this trip after all. She stared at him a long moment, taking in his beautiful eyes and golden hair, all in stark contrast to the drab dead room.
“You know you remind me of her, my daughter I mean. She would have been about your age now.” She didn’t know why she said it, she just did. Strangely, the words weren’t accompanied by the sadness and tears that usually followed. Who knew a therapist could be a third of her age and half her height?
Gabe wrinkled his face. “Are you saying I look like a girl again? ‘Cause I don’t look like a girl.”
Aubrey laughed once more. Three times in one sitting. That had to be some kind of record. Sadly, the reality of their situation couldn’t be avoided. She looked away from him and back to the record of atrocities committed on both vessels. “Gabe, what happened here?”
The boy’s smile faded and she instantly wished she could retract the question. There was no choice but to go forward. “You said your mom is still around. Are there others here?”
Gabe didn’t meet her eyes.
“Gabe, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
The boy suddenly looked up, a fire in his eyes that she had not yet seen. “They’re all here. And they’re all dead. And they’re all gonna make sure we’re dead too if you don’t hurry up and get us off this boat!”
The ship’s lurking silence forced its way back to the forefront as Aubrey stared at him in shock. Maybe the boy was displacing his pain, inventing a story of ghosts and the dead instead of dealing with the real situation. He’d obviously been through a lot. God knew Aubrey had done the same when Jennifer passed. The best thing she could do was to keep him talking about it, walk him through it. Tough? Yes. Necessary?
Aubrey looked at the last journal entry again. Definitely.
She spoke evenly and soft. “Do you know where the—the bodies are?”
Gabe looked away. He rubbed at his emerald eyes. Aubrey didn’t think in a million years he’d answer but kids were apparently full of surprises. “One is on the bridge,” he said hoarsely and turned to face her. Tears streamed down his soft cheeks. “And two are sitting in this room.”
Aubrey blinked in surprise, unsure of what to say. Was there anything to say? She would sell her soul if it would bring this poor kid some comfort. “We’re not going to die Gabe. No one is going to hurt you.”
The boy suddenly leaned in and buried his head on her shoulder, and Aubrey’s arms instantly slid around his heaving shoulders. She was surprised to find that she needed the hug just as much as he did. She held him in silence contemplating the enormity of his words and their impossible dire situation.
“You’re right,” he said finally and looked up to face her. “But you’re wrong too. They don’t kill you, but when they find you they don’t stop hurting you. And they always find you. You can’t hide from Watcher.”
Static blared over her headset making her jump before she could ask what that was supposed to mean. “Aubrey, are you nearby?”
It was Mac. He sounded alarmed. Aubrey’s temper flared. “Yeah Mac, I’m here with Gabe. Remember Gabe? He seems to have gotten the impression that you don’t like him.”
“Look Doc, now’s not the time—“
“Mac—“
“Aubrey there’s something up here with us.”
Perhaps it was the way he said it, or Gabe’s morbid warning, but a very real chill crept up her spine. He said something, not someone.
“Another person, a member of the crew?” The question was absurd but warranted. Gabe began to tremble in her arms.
“Can’t be sure, but whatever it is it’s not human.”
She shouldn’t have left Mac alone. The guy spooked too easy. He probably saw a bird or maybe a stowaway rat. “How close?”
“Just outside the window. It flew by. I didn’t get a good look with the fog. Starting to get dark too. I can’t be sure if it’s still there.”
Yep, a bird. Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief. This place was making her just as jumpy as Mac. She’d be happy to be rid of it. “Alright, hang tight. We’re on our way back.”
Gabe began to protest. “No, we can’t—“
CRASH!
The sound of shattering glass was unmistakable, even heard through a few walls.
“What the--!”
The explosive bursts of Mac’s machine gun echoed through the hallway, their every blast quickening Aubrey’s heart rate amping it into overdrive panic. What the hell’s going on!?
“Mac?” Aubrey tried. Static and gunfire answered. “Mac!”
Aubrey sprang to her feet, Gabe still clinging to her side. “Gabe—“
“I’m not leaving you!” He said adamantly. She didn’t want to put him in harm’s way, but she didn’t exactly have another option either.
“Alright. Stay close, and stay behind me.”
She levelled her pistol and headed for the door. The bridge was just around the corner. Aubrey prayed they weren’t too late and it didn’t already contain Gabe’s fulfilled prediction of a body.
Chapter 16
Deck 7, Starboard Hallway
“I’m dead too,” Tom reemphasized as if trying to convince himself that the absurd statement was true. His out of place smile faded into a tight grimace.
Julian cast a wary glance at the otherworldly fungus. It hadn’t moved since Tom’s arrival, instead just sitting there dormant—grotesque and bulging—but dormant. That didn’t make it any less of a threat, nor the open stairwell door behind him for that matter. Something told him a few bullets to the creature’s nasty face weren’t enough to ward it off for long. They needed to get out of this freak show hallway, now.
Deciding that laying here doing nothing was the riskier of his two options, Julian rolled up onto his side. The growth to his right susurred in protest, but either it didn’t have the ability to act on its undoubtedly hateful instincts or it didn’t feel like he was worth the effort. Either way, it fell silent at the completion of his roll which was one hundred percent okay with Julian.
He could see Tom more clearly now. Thankfully, the man looked in better shape than Harry did, at least on the outside. His clothes weren’t torn, though there was a spatter of blood staining his vest and a matching droplet accentuating the corner of his mustached mouth. Julian hoped that didn’t mean…
“Are you okay Tom?” he asked, although okay didn’t mean what it used to.
Tom blinked his sweaty eyes slowly as if seeing Julian for the first time. Not a good sign. He brought a shaky hand up to touch his pale cheek. Perhaps to him this was all a bleak nightmare and he was checking to see if he was still a part of it. Julian glanced sidelong at the growth. The moist pustules observed the strange scene silently. He still got the sense that they were coursing with malice for him, that they wanted desperately to lash out and hurt him like the thing in the stairwell and the other one below.
Like Tom.
The man’s once friendly eyes now bulged bloodshot red with intensity and hatred. But there was something else there. Fear? Maybe remorse?
Julian’s stomach wrung several twists tighter. It can’t be! It can’t! He refused to accept that he had lost another comrade so easily. There had to be something left of his friend in there. If there was any hope of saving that, he’d cling to it. He wasn’t going to lose another man to the abominations that had infested this ship, no matter what it cost him.
