‘Look,’ pointed Myers.
Craigson glanced at a large fish tank set in the wall.
A turtle the size of a large coffee table stared back at him.
That’s no fish tank, Craigson realized. It’s an aquarium.
Myers stared at the turtle as though a unicorn had just appeared. He watched the curious turtle a moment longer before waving the passengers forward.
Craigson put his finger to his lips. ‘You’ll attract less attention in smaller groups. Half of you head to the port lifeboats and half to the starboard.’
‘But the killers are already there!’ hissed one woman.
Myers pointed. ‘We have teams there now. They’ll help you. Those boats are your only chance.’
‘Can’t you take us?’ pleaded an older man.
Myers shook his head. ‘We have to stop any sick passengers following you. Now go. Quickly. Our people are waiting for you.’
The group still hesitated.
‘Go,’ hissed Myers. ‘If you miss the lifeboats you’ll never get off this ship!’
The passengers understood that. Their hesitation disappeared. They divided, chose corridors and dashed away.
Craigson hated sending terrified people away on their own, but he trusted the Captain.
After the passengers disappeared, Craigson heard a sound.
‘What is it?’ asked Myers.
Craigson pointed. ‘That way.’
The two Marines edged around the service counters toward the noise.
Snip...snip...snip.
‘That one,’ whispered Myers.
Craigson read the sign over the marble archway.
Aphrodite’s
A waterfall entrance feature blocked their view further inside.
Snip...snip...snip.
Craigson held up three fingers, then two fingers, then one finger....
Now.
Both Marines moved at exactly the same time to either end of the waterfall.
It’s a hairdressing salon, realized Craigson.
A very fancy hairdressing salon, with seashell-shaped lights illuminating renaissance style murals. In the floor, thousands of shells and coral fragments lay embedded under a smooth, transparent surface. A block of smooth sandstone functioned as the service counter.
Beyond were eight styling booths, each screened by shimmering blue satin curtains.
One booth looked open.
Snip...snip...snip.
Quietly, the Marines rounded the sandstone counter and looked in the booth.
In the styling chair slumped a man.
A dead man.
Twelve pairs of scissors were embedded in his chest up to their handles.
A woman wearing a shimmering blue dress was cutting his hair with a pair of scissors in each hand.
She was a heavily-set girl, and very pretty.
Snip...snip...snip.
Piles of brown hair lay around the chair. She’d trimmed the man’s head practically bald. She seemed absolutely absorbed in the process.
‘Hello?’ tested Myers.
The woman glanced up at Myers.
Apparently the dead man’s haircut was finished.
Myers was next.
The woman screamed and launched herself at Myers.
Neither Marine reacted in time.
The woman moved too fast.
As her body slammed into Myers, her scissors descended like daggers.
The impact knocked Myers backward. As they fell, the woman thrust her scissors at Myers’ eyes. With his XREP pinned between them, Myers had just one option.
Desperately he grabbed for the woman’s wrists.
He caught them.
He gripped her wrists as their bodies fell backward.
Crash!
Myers fell through a cosmetics table, but kept his grip on the insane hairdresser’s wrists.
He had little choice.
The scissors halted just inches from his eyeballs.
At this range, Craigson couldn’t miss the woman.
His ‘Liquidized Rubber Slug’ (LRS) rifle operated like any semi-automatic rifle. Only the ammunition differed. The projectile semi-liquidized during flight. The epoxy-elastin compound retained enough structural integrity to fly like a normal bullet, but on impact it flattened and hardened into a solid disk an inch wide and 5mm thick.
The projectile minimized penetration and maximized concussive impact.
Craigson knew the weapon had four times the knock-down power of a rubber bullet. He also knew, at this range, he would likely break the hairdresser’s neck or crack her skull. That’s why their new weapons were classed ‘less-lethal’ rather than ‘non-lethal’.
Craigson aimed by instinct, noting the red laser dot on the woman’s head.
The XREP and LRS both used laser sights.
‘Look out!’ Myers hollered.
Myers was looking past Craigson.
There’s someone behind me, realized Craigson.
Mirrors filled the salon.
One glance to his left and Craigson glimpsed his attacker from three different angles. While he was aiming at the hairdresser’s head, someone was aiming at his head.
And they weren’t going to miss.
Smash!
Craigson’s world jolted. Shards of glass tumbled around his shoulders and helmet. The force of the attack pushed him forward, but not off his feet. Whatever struck him hadn’t been heavy enough.
Spinning, he saw the weapon.
Another mirror. The type with handles on both sides to display a haircut from behind.
Craigson’s helmet had saved him.
His attacker was another hairdresser.
She wore the same kind of shimmering blue dress as the woman trying to impale Myers.
She lunged at Craigson.
Craigson fired.
The liquid slug struck the woman squarely in the sternum. At point blank range, the impact knocked her clean off her feet. As she fell, her head smacked against the sandstone service counter.
‘Craigson!’ yelled Myers, still struggling to keep the scissors from his eyes. ‘Shoot her!’
Craigson spun. For a moment the mirrors played tricks on him. It looked like another hairdresser was in the store.
Shit! There is another hairdresser. How many are in here?
From a rear doorway a third employee appeared. This one held a long shaft of wood with a wicked-looking point.
She sprinted across the salon toward Myers.
Myers didn’t have any more hands to defend himself.
While one hairdresser pinned him down, the other intended to impale him.
Craigson had one round left in his magazine.
One shot and two targets.
Crack!
The polymer slug flew from his barrel and struck the woman pinning Myers to the floor. The slug struck between her temple and her jaw, fracturing that crucial junction of bones and ligaments.
The impact sent the woman tumbling off Myers.
Myers’ hands became free just as the woman with the spear reached him.
He grabbed his rifle to deflect her attack.
But the attack never came.
The woman didn’t slow down. She leaped over Myers.
She ignored Myers and charged at Craigson. At that moment, Craigson realized the sick passengers were completely unpredictable.
Surprised, he stepped backward and tripped. He fell backward, totally off-balance.
Oh, God – she’ll be right on top of me!
Something caught him.
A chair! He’d fallen into a styling chair.
He had no intention of ending up like the dead man in the next chair down.
He focused on the wooden spear racing at his face. The point was glossy with blood. She had already killed someone with her improvised weapon.
He knocked the spear point off target with his rifle.
Slunk.
The spear thudded into the chair’s headrest bare inche
s from his face.
Craigson didn’t give her a second chance. He planted his boot in her stomach and kicked.
She stumbled back and then collapsed. She hit the floor in a fit of convulsions.
Behind her, Myers lowered his XREP.
Craigson reloaded his rifle.
Myers rose and studied the three bodies on the floor.
‘What are you thinking?’ asked Craigson.
‘I’m thinking that we just had our asses kicked by three hairdressers,’ replied Myers. ‘And I’ve used half my ammunition.’
Craigson counted his magazines.
‘Same here.’
‘These less-lethal weapons aren’t enough,’ complained Myers. ‘This entire ship is full of lunatics.’
‘We’re not fighting the entire ship,’ replied Craigson. ‘We only have to hold the atrium. Let’s go.’
Myers wrenched the wooden spear from the chair’s head rest. He tossed it away.
‘What the hell is wrong with these people? They look...I don’t know...brain damaged or something.’
‘Shhhhh,’ hissed Craigson as they stepped back into the atrium.
‘What is it?’ asked Myers.
Craigson cupped a hand to his ear. The sound of people running in their direction grew louder.
‘More are coming,’ replied Craigson. ‘A lot more. Get ready.’
Myers shook his head and lifted his rifle. ‘I hope the Captain knows what he’s doing.’
Chapter Six
Forest and King battled toward the lifeboats.
Forest stopped to listen.
The evacuation siren made listening hard, but Forest could still discern the difference between sick and healthy passengers.
The healthy passengers ran in spurts. Their footsteps sounded furtive.
The sick passengers ran with abandon. They ran fast. They didn’t care who heard. They didn’t pause. They just searched for their next victim.
Forest listened to the pounding feet heading his way from a side corridor.
A group of sick passengers were pursuing a group of healthy ones.
‘King! I have hostiles!’
He raised his rifle and took a deep breath.
Here they come. Concentrate on their faces. The truth is in their faces.
People sprinted around the corner into Forest’s view.
He couldn’t hesitate. Not in these confined hallways. Hesitation would get him overwhelmed like Easterbrook.
A large man rounded the corner first. He carried a teenager over one shoulder. In the other hand he carried a long piece of metal.
This guy wasn’t crazy.
His face showed nothing but sheer determination.
Behind them came four people who had clearly lost their minds. The savagery in their expressions left Forest no doubt they were in a killing frenzy.
The fleeing man spotted Forest.
Instead of blocking Forest’s line of fire, he dropped to the carpet. He covered the girl’s body with his own.
Forest fired four rapid shots. He didn’t have time to aim carefully.
In the mayhem, he hit one man twice.
One attacker kept coming.
‘Damn it!’ Forest swore, reaching for another magazine.
But the man on the carpet leaped to his feet and attacked.
He swung the piece of metal in a huge overhead arc.
Crack!
Steel met skull.
As usual, steel won.
The last pursuer collapsed with a concave forehead.
Forest finished reloading his LSR as the man helped the girl up. Her breathing sounded terrible. She wheezed with every breath. She held something to her mouth and leaned on the wall. She had a Ventolin inhaler.
‘We can’t stop,’ Forest instructed.
‘My granddaughter is having an asthma attack,’ said the man, peering into the nearest cabin. ‘We have to stop. It’s okay. We’re almost at the lifeboats. I’m a cop. I’ll get her there. You guys just make sure the lifeboats are clear.’
Forest shook his head. ‘Carry her.’
The man took two steps into the cabin and swung his metal shaft at something behind the door. Forest heard a – clang! – of metal on metal, and then the door began closing.
The man grabbed the door, having disabled whatever mechanism held it open. He helped his granddaughter inside.
‘Carrying her is suicide,’ said the man. ‘I can’t carry her and fight. She’ll be on her feet again in a minute. We’ve gotten this far. You just get the lifeboats clear and we’ll meet you there.’
Forest couldn’t stop to argue.
He glanced at the weapon the man had fashioned. He’d unscrewed the solid metal leg off a dining table. It had gotten him this far. That and his training.
‘I’ll watch for you,’ said Forest. ‘But don’t be long. The lifeboats won’t wait.’
‘Understood,’ replied the man, closing the door to protect his granddaughter until she recovered.
Forest turned and looked for King.
Where the hell is he? Did he push on ahead without me?
The sound of nearby combat provided a solid clue. Forest dashed around the corner and discovered King in hand-to-hand combat.
Sergeant King had shouldered his less-lethal XREP.
Instead, he wielded a shovel.
Forest watched King swing the shovel like a fly swatter. Nothing was getting past the giant man. Nothing still conscious anyway. King used every part of the shovel, both offensively and defensively. He looked like he’d trained with one for years.
As Forest reached King, only two hostiles were left.
King charged them, holding the shovel sideways.
The man and woman fell like dandelions under a lawn mower.
Before they could rise, King knocked them senseless with the shovel’s flat blade.
Clang! Clang!
King leaped over them without a backward glance.
‘King!’ called Forest.
This wasn’t teamwork. King was just berserking ahead like some kind of rampaging giant.
‘KING!’ yelled Forest. ‘STOP!
King halted reluctantly.
Forest hurried to reach his friend. ‘Back in the pool I stopped someone ramming a garden pick through your head. I can’t do that if I can’t see you.’
King nodded and wiped sweat from his eyes.
‘We’re a team,’ said Forest. ‘Remember?’
King’s readjusted his helmet and glanced back at Forest.
‘Then keep up.’
The lifeboats are right around this corner, thought Coleman.
‘Wait!’ blurted Erin.
She lifted her radio.
First Officer Bryant spoke over her radio. ‘Listen to me, Erin. Hundreds of healthy passengers are heading your way.’
‘We’ll get them on the lifeboats,’ replied Erin.
‘Listen!’ insisted Bryant. ‘You’re not listening, Erin. The starboard lifeboats are gone, and there’s a large pack of hostile passengers behind you. They’re right behind you!’
Coleman had heard enough.
A large group of healthy passengers were about to reach a dead end in more ways than one. Unless he thought of something quickly, he and Erin would be among them.
He dashed onto the outer deck.
All the starboard lifeboats were gone, like Bryant said.
Bryant was also correct about the fleeing healthy passengers. They surged onto the outer deck, peering left and right as though unable to comprehend the missing lifeboats.
‘They’re gone!’ a woman yelled. ‘They’re all gone!’
More and more terrified passengers pushed onto the outer deck. Their reactions approached hysteria.
The hostiles are heading this way, thought Coleman. If they catch the healthy passengers like this it will be a bloodbath.
Coleman needed two things. He needed to slow down the hostiles and he needed to get these two hundred healthy passengers off
the ship.
Erin cut Coleman’s problems in half.
She jumped onto a bright orange chest.
‘Listen to me!’ she yelled, holding up her radio. ‘Listen to me. I’m talking to the First Officer. The lifeboats haven’t left without us. They’re waiting for you!’
Erin pointed over the railing. The lifeboats had moved only a short distance from the ship.
‘You need to swim to them,’ Erin instructed. ‘They’re waiting to pick you up!’
A dozen people instantly leaped over the railing.
‘We can’t jump that far!’ someone yelled.
‘Go down two levels,’ Erin instructed. ‘It’s a safe jump from there. Hurry! Go!’
‘Look. They made it!’ yelled a woman, pointing over the railing.
The people who had leaped over the railing began swimming toward the waiting lifeboats. Several more people jumped, but most began crowding down the stairwell to the lower level.
‘Hurry!’ Erin yelled at them, waving them down the stairs with her radio. ‘Go! Go!’
Erin jumped down in front of Coleman.
‘We need to give them time,’ she said. ‘Just two minutes. That’s enough time.’
Coleman studied the chest Erin had climbed on. Instructions and diagrams covered the large orange box.
‘I can do that,’ he said. ‘Keep these people moving.’
Coleman hauled the large orange box back toward the corridor. If he wasn’t fast enough, the hordes of violent passengers would engulf him like a tidal wave and reach the terrified passengers.
The hostiles sounded close.
He could feel them coming.
The deck vibrated as though a huge beast was squeezing itself through the corridors toward him.
That is the sound of evil, realized Coleman.
It sounded monstrous.
It sounded terrifying.
And it had arrived.
Coleman looked up as the pack rounded the corner.
They were twenty feet away.
They spotted him.
Coleman hadn’t seen anything more repulsive in his life. Racing each other, the hostile passengers jammed so close together he could barely make out individual shapes. They filled and spilled into the corridor like water. Their faces radiated such fury and loathing that Coleman knew exactly what they were thinking.
They wanted to tear him apart.
HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) Page 8
