HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2)

by Shane M Brown

  Erin had assured her aunt that Charlie and Monica would have the most fantastic cruise of their lives.

  Instead, Monica had transformed into a psychopath and murdered her new husband on their honeymoon.

  Imagine if my entire family had come, Erin thought. All of them. My brother. My parents. Everyone I care for would have been trying to kill each other.

  It was too horrible to contemplate.

  Erin halted again.

  Coleman had her arm. He pointed to one of the painted codes on a cabin door.

  ‘What do these codes mean?’ he asked.

  Erin nodded over her shoulder. ‘They were Neve’s idea. We used the fire teams to rescue people from their cabins when the first sick passengers began attacking their families. We locked the sick passengers in the cabins and marked the doors with a code. ‘V3’ means there were three violent passengers inside.’

  ‘You did a good job,’ said Coleman.

  ‘I hope so,’ replied Erin. ‘We were lucky Neve was on board to start a response plan.’

  ‘You saved lives,’ said Coleman. ‘What you did mattered.’

  Erin appreciated Coleman’s words. She hadn’t stopped to think about how she had helped save lives. She had just been running from one problem to the next.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said before noticing the others lagging.

  Neve had stopped in her chair to study a bald man lying dead in the hallway. One hand still clenched the jagged shaft of a broken walking stick.

  Like the woman earlier, he was barefoot.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Coleman.

  ‘Another one,’ pointed Neve. ‘I’ve seen dozens of them. He doesn’t have a wound on him. He died on his feet. Running.’

  ‘How do you know he was running?’ asked Coleman.

  Forest pointed. ‘Carpet burn. On his forehead. He died on his feet, tumbled forward and then slid along the floor.’

  Neve nodded. ‘He probably died from a massive heart attack or a stroke.’

  ‘Is that important?’ asked Coleman.

  ‘It’s a clue,’ replied Neve. ‘This sickness is changing people’s bodies. It’s not just sending them crazy. It’s making older people fast and strong, but it’s not improving their hearts or brains. The older people are dying from physical exertion.’

  ‘Let’s get to the hospital,’ prompted Coleman.

  ‘It’s just around this corner,’ said Erin. ‘This is the back entrance. It’s closer to the pathology lab. All the waiting rooms and offices are on the other side. This side should be quieter.’

  Coleman looked around the corner. ‘The sliding doors are open. Is that normal?’

  Erin thought about it. ‘They must have all opened during the evacuation.’

  ‘I don’t want any more surprises,’ said Coleman. ‘Everyone wait here.’

  Neve watched Coleman approach the door and draw a knife from his belt.

  ‘Let’s see if anyone’s home.’

  Clank!

  He rapped the metal knife on his rifle, sending a metallic sound echoing through the hospital.

  Nothing happened.

  He tested again.

  Clank!

  When no crazies came surging toward the sound, he waved the group inside.

  ‘Looks clear, but stay alert.’

  Ben Bryant wrapped a handkerchief around the fingers on his left hand that were cut by the glass.

  He tightened the impromptu bandage with his teeth.

  The bleeding has stopped.

  When the helicopter crashed, Christov had dashed straight over to the surveillance monitors.

  He was checking the Marines.

  ‘They didn’t hear it,’ he said. ‘They’ve got no idea.’

  Christov spoke into his radio. ‘Secure the stern helipad and start unloading.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ came the reply.

  Christov raised his radio again. ‘And do it carefully. Get them on the cushioned trolleys as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Ben got to his feet again.

  He heard someone shouting through the hole in the ceiling.

  ‘Last crate!’

  This was a new voice.

  Ben watched the last crate lower to the deck from the helicopter.

  Someone was standing on it, riding down the tether line from the helicopter.

  Ben hadn’t seen this man yet. Of all the intruders, this man was the only person not wearing a military-style blue uniform and gray protective vest.

  He wasn’t carrying a weapon either.

  The man leaped nimbly off the crate as it reached the deck.

  He looked like someone who’d spent his entire life working on the decks of ships, and those years of toiling in the sun had leached all the natural color from his body. His skin looked brown as beef jerky. His hair was all gray. Even his eyebrows, facial stubble, and the thick hairs on his arms were gray.

  He must be at least sixty, thought Ben. But his hands looked strong enough to crush rocks.

  Tiny bumps covered the man’s face and neck like small pox scars. They looked like the scars a welding professional would accumulate over a lifetime of shunning safety equipment. Tool pockets covered his dirty, blue, sun-bleached overalls. Burn marks scorched his boots, too.

  Working on cruise ships, Ben met thousands of people from all over the world, but he’d never met a man who looked like this.

  The man pointed to the blood splatter around the broken glass on the bridge. ‘Did the captain need a swimming lesson?’

  Christov stood studying the surveillance monitors. ‘Not yet. But it’s on my list.’

  The man shrugged and kicked a crate. ‘This is all of it. I’m ready.’

  Christov spun and checked his watch.

  ‘Good. We’re on schedule. You need to keep it that way, Bolton.’

  The man, Bolton, picked up a welding mask and waved at the trolleys. ‘I’ve got everything I need. You just tell me when.’

  Christov nodded and approached Ben.

  He pointed at the pilot’s chair. ‘Sit.’

  Ben complied quickly.

  Two men grabbed his arms.

  ‘I’m sitting down,’ said Ben.

  But the men weren’t pushing Ben into the seat. They were making sure he couldn’t get out of it. In seconds they had cable-tied his wrists to the armrests.

  Christ, what now? thought Ben. Are they going to torture me? What the hell do they want?

  Ben avoided looking at Karen.

  ‘Listen,’ started Ben. ‘I’ll take the ship anywhere you want. I’ll tell you anything you want. Just don’t hurt anyone else.’

  ‘He seems tame,’ commented Bolton. ‘But this bridge is overcrowded.’

  Christov nodded and waved at the three kneeling officers. ‘Get them on the chopper.’

  Ben watched Karen and the others being dragged toward the ladder. His last glimpse of Karen was of her back as she climbed the ladder.

  This could be a good thing, thought Ben. You don’t load people into a helicopter to shoot them. You put them in a helicopter to take them somewhere else.

  Ben felt a little relieved. Maybe they were through the worst of it. With Karen removed from Christov’s presence, her chances of survival seemed to increase markedly. If Karen was removed from immediate danger, Ben’s worst fear would be averted. It didn’t matter what happened to him. As long as Karen was all right, Ben could cope with whatever Christov had planned for him.

  He heard the helicopter lifting off.

  ‘Where are you taking them?’ Ben asked.

  ‘That’s up to you,’ replied Christov. ‘If you tell me what I need to know, my pilot will deliver them safely to the lifeboats.’

  Ben felt relief wash over him. Thank God. Thank God she’ll be safe. All I have to do is help them and she’ll be safe.

  ‘I will,’ confirmed Ben. ‘I have been. I have nothing to hide.’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  ‘Who?
’

  ‘Elizabeth.’

  Ben panicked.

  He didn’t know anyone named Elizabeth. Adrenalin and fear drove his brain into overdrive. Is she a passenger? A crewmember?

  Ben groped for an answer. ‘Is she...is she the woman we rescued?’

  Christov nodded.

  ‘She’s in the hospital,’ said Ben with relief. ‘On Deck 5. She went straight to the hospital after we picked her up.’

  Christov stood before Ben and studied Ben’s face.

  ‘What did she give the Marines?’

  ‘She couldn’t have given them anything. She was unconscious.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘She couldn’t speak. She was unconscious when we rescued her. The doctor didn’t think she’d survive the night. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.’

  ‘How do you know she was unconscious?’

  ‘I picked her up myself,’ Ben explained. ‘I took her down to the hospital.’

  Christov paced slowly around Ben’s chair.

  ‘If Elizabeth never spoke a word, then why are the Marines here?’

  ‘They came to help us,’ answered Bryant. ‘When the entire ship went haywire, they came to help.’

  Christov stopped behind Ben and put his hands on Ben’s shoulders.

  ‘Just one more question, First Officer Bryant, then your officers will be set free.’

  Ben nodded. So far, so good.

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Where’s what?’

  Christov walked around the chair and raised an eyebrow at Ben.

  Ben tried to think. ‘The life raft? The life raft was carried down to the hospital.’

  Christov spoke into his hand radio. ‘He’s not being cooperative.’

  Who is he talking to? Ben wondered. The helicopter? Is he going to have Karen brought back?

  The helicopter didn’t respond immediately.

  When it did, it wasn’t how Ben expected.

  He heard someone screaming and then...

  ...THUUUMP!

  The entire bridge shuddered as something slammed down onto the roof above Ben’s head.

  What the hell was that?

  Christov twisted Ben’s head to the left.

  Ben saw a body get thrown off the bridge roof. He had time enough to see a white officer’s uniform. The man had black hair.

  Oh, God, realized Ben in an instant. They just killed Williams. They pushed him from the helicopter. He landed on the bridge. That was him screaming. That huge thumping noise was him hitting the bridge.

  ‘Stop!’ hollered Ben. ‘Just tell me what you want. Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you where it is. How can I answer when I don’t know what you’re talking about?’

  Ben struggled with his bonds.

  Karen could be next! They could push Karen from the helicopter any second! All Christov has to do is raise the radio and give the command, then it would be Karen screaming on her way down to a pulverizing death.

  ‘What is it?’ pleaded Ben. ‘Tell me what it is. Tell me!’

  Christov looked up through the hole in the bridge ceiling.

  ‘Cooperate with me and this will all be over,’ he replied.

  ‘I am cooperating!’ shouted Ben. ‘I don’t know what you mean!’

  Ben imagined them hauling his beautiful Karen to the edge of the helicopter. They could be up there right now getting her into position while she fought and cried and screamed.

  ‘Wrong answer,’ said Christov, both to Ben and into his radio.

  ‘No. No,’ begged Ben. ‘WAIT!’

  ‘Too late,’ replied Christov.

  ‘NO!’

  THUUUMP!

  The person landed on the angled glass window right in front of Ben.

  A body-shaped impression punched into the reinforced glass. The body neither broke through nor bounced off.

  It wedged into the glass.

  Ben made himself look.

  The crumpled corpse looked too large to be Karen.

  It was Geoffrey Radley’s corpse. They had pushed Geoffrey from the helicopter.

  Ben gave up trying to reason with Christov and focused every ounce of fear and anger into breaking his bonds. He thrashed his entire body around in the pilot’s chair, ignoring the plastic tearing away the skin around his wrist.

  Christov stood before Ben. He watched Ben’s frantic contortions.

  ‘You won’t break them,’ he said. ‘Are you ready to answer me?’

  Christov brought the radio to his lips.

  Panic-fueled words spilled from Ben’s mouth.

  ‘The Captain’s safe!’ Ben yelled. ‘I remember now. The Captain came down to the hospital. He took something from Elizabeth’s belongings. He went back to his suite. That’s where it is. In his safe!’

  Christov studied Ben, but didn’t lower the radio. ‘What did it look like?’

  Ben had absolutely no idea, but he would say anything to give Karen a chance of surviving the next ten seconds. He thought back to when he’d rescued Elizabeth. He hadn’t seen anything special, but he hadn’t searched the inflatable raft. He’d been focusing on saving her life. He remembered she’d been wearing long pants with cargo pockets.

  ‘It was about the size of a small camera. Maybe a bit larger, but I didn’t see it properly. The Captain kept it covered. It could have been something smaller though, something inside a case.’

  Ben was trying to be both vague and specific at the same time. He prayed he hadn’t just condemned Karen to a horrifying death.

  ‘The Captain’s safe isn’t hidden,’ he continued. ‘It’s in his walk-in wardrobe. In his suite. It’s biometric. You just need his thumbprint to open it.’

  Please, God. Please help me, Ben prayed. Please don’t let her die.

  ‘Is that the truth?’ asked Christov.

  ‘I swear it,’ answered Ben. ‘I swear to God. I swear it on my life. That’s what I saw. That’s where it is. Please don’t kill her. I can help you. I can do anything.’

  Christov lay his hand on Ben’s shoulder. ‘You did just help me. It’s over now.’

  Ben nodded, letting his head drop, thanking God that he’d thought of the safe at the last second. Hopefully the Captain had fled his suite like the other crazies. Christov might never find him. Without the right thumbprint, Christov might never discover Ben’s deception.

  ‘He’s told us,’ Christov said into his radio.

  Ben snapped his head up.

  Christov had promised to deliver the officers safely to the lifeboats if Ben cooperated.

  From the corner of his eye, Ben saw a fleeting shadow.

  In the large spot of sunshine on the bridge floor, he saw the shadow of a person waving their arms and kicking their legs.

  At that exact moment, he heard Karen screaming.

  He looked up through the ceiling, toward the sound of the scream, just in time to see Karen windmilling her arms as she plummeted through the hole in the bridge.

  She struck the deck with so much force that Ben felt a rush of wind.

  She landed just meters from him.

  Ben had witnessed the last few moments of her life. He’d seen her face. Her terror.

  He sobbed out loud, making noises no human should ever need to make. He moaned in desperation at Christov, ‘She...was...my wife. You just killed my wife.’

  Christov stepped forward and dropped something on Ben’s lap.

  It was the photo. The small photo Karen kept on her workstation from their honeymoon. In the photo, they were standing on the beach holding their shoes, still dressed up after a fancy dinner.

  He knew, thought Ben. He knew we were married all along.

  ‘I gave you three chances to save her life,’ said Christov. ‘If you paid more attention to what was happening on your ship, Officer Bryant, maybe your wife would still be alive.’

  ‘I told you everything,’ whispered Ben, feeling himself slipping into shock.

  �
�I hope so,’ replied Christov. ‘Otherwise you’re next.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Coleman scanned the ship’s hospital.

  ‘Why do you need all this equipment?’ he asked.

  ‘Because we have so many elderly and frail passengers,’ Erin replied. ‘Normally there’s a constant stream of passengers coming through here.’

  Erin pointed through the glass doors toward the different areas. ‘We have the consult rooms, x-ray lab, MRI machine, ultrasound booths, dialysis machines, a pharmacist–’

  Neve cut in. ‘Where’s pathology?’

  Erin pointed. ‘Right through there.’

  Justin, Craigson and Myers followed after Neve. The doors inside the hospital were all automatic glass sliding doors.

  ‘Stay alert,’ warned Coleman. ‘These doors won’t slow the hostiles down.’

  The place had obviously been abandoned in a hurry. A nearby counter looked like someone had scrambled over it to escape. A telephone receiver hung from the counter by its cord.

  ‘I’ll try calling the bridge on the hardline,’ said Erin.

  She reached over the counter and dialed.

  She listened.

  ‘No answer.’

  ‘And you said the bridge was secure, right?’

  Erin nodded. ‘There’s only one door in and out. It’s solid steel. The crazies can’t get in. They could damage the phone lines though.’

  Coleman didn’t have any resources to send to the bridge.

  ‘It must be the crazies,’ said Erin. ‘They’re tearing everything apart. They’ve damaged the phone system somewhere.’

  Coleman wasn’t so sure.

  Forest obviously agreed.

  ‘Captain, I’d like to set up a perimeter,’ requested Forest.

  Coleman looked to Erin. ‘How many entrances access the hospital, including the emergency and service entrances?’

  Erin studied an evacuation plan on the wall. ‘There are eight entrances.’

  Coleman shook his head. ‘That’s too many access points to control an effective perimeter. Make a perimeter sweep instead.’

  Coleman studied Sergeant King. King’s eyes were constantly sweeping from area to area, searching for any sign of trouble. He was covered almost head-to-toe in flecks of blood, a sign of extensive hand-to-hand combat. In his hands he carried a gardening shovel, which he’d obviously improvised into an effective close quarters weapon.