Ark Of Hope: Beyond The Dark Horizon

by Roger David Francis

  “How bloody dare you!” The little man bawled.

  “Where did you get it from, a fancy dress shop?” Cassie asked, intrigued.

  “Certainly not. The Princess May is my ship.” He scratched his head again. “You might have thought you’d seen me in the theatre, pretending to be Tony-Tony, the ventriloquist but that was just someone who looked like me so don’t you go spreading rumours around.”

  “What was your puppet called?” Jade asked.

  The little man puffed himself up, “Teddy,” he said proudly. “Lovely he was, brown with two big blue marble eyes.” His eyes shifted around. “We had top billing, Tony-Tony and Teddy.” His mouth trembled for a moment. “Never mind that, it wasn’t me. I’m the Captain of the ship now. You have no right to question my authority, and,” he added, “I’m not too old, I’m forty seven.”

  Brett gave a short laugh, “And the rest, old timer. Okay you’ve had your fun, now where’s the real Captain, we need to speak to him.”

  A cunning expression crossed the little man’s face. “Follow me,” he said and disappeared out of the door.

  “Do we have a choice?” Jade whispered to Brett.

  He shrugged his shoulders, “What have we got to lose?”

  Cassie snuggled up to Robbie and lazily he put his arm around her.

  “This is nice,” he murmured.

  “Hmm, don’t get any ideas.”

  “Like this, you mean?” He turned his head and kissed her; at first softly then with more passion, his hand sliding under her t-shirt. Cassie began pulling away but he held onto her.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like, you and me,” Robbie said beginning to slip his leg over her.

  “No!” Cassie woke up and yelled. She was alone lying on top of the bed and Robbie was nowhere in sight. Where the hell had that dream come from, she wondered. She stood up shakily. “Robbie?” She called out but there was no answer. He’d left her alone and suddenly she felt frightened. What if he didn’t come back? Worse, what if Brett and Jade had disappeared? Cassie glanced back at the bed almost tempted to lie back down and fall back to sleep where she was safe. A dream about Robbie trying it on with her was preferable to finding herself alone on a ship that didn’t really exist. Poor Robbie, she thought, he was really suffering, perhaps he’d gone off somewhere feeling sick. She felt guilty; she was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.

  She checked the small toilet to make sure Robbie wasn’t passed out in there and then decided to go and look for him. He couldn’t have gone far, she reasoned, according to her watch it was ten past one, she’d only been asleep for ten minutes.

  No wonder she was having weird dreams though, all this talk about ghosts, her subconscious had sought out something normal, like being groped by her best friend’s boyfriend. She didn’t want to think about the legless woman under the bed or the strange couple; Maureen with her tattered wedding dress and Harvey with his chewed up fingers. She’d leave them alone for now, no doubt to find their way into her nightmares for years to come.

  She opened the cabin door and crept out. The ginger cat was sitting a few feet away watching her, his tail swishing.

  “Go away,” she hissed at it turning the opposite way. When she reached the door to the dining room she felt a tug on her arm. Startled she turned round. The little girl she’d met earlier in the toilets was standing behind her. She was still wearing her long blue polka dot dress and smiling.

  “I can’t find my granddad, Poppy,” she said to Cassie. “I’ve looked everywhere on the ship but he’s not here. There was a storm and a big flash of lightning took him away.” She put her head on one side. “Why aren’t you with your friends?”

  “We got separated. I’m looking for them now. You haven’t seen them, have you?” She eyed the little girl thoughtfully. “Your name’s Hope, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry you can’t find your friends.” The little girl looked sad. “Everybody’s lost on this ship. Do you know who that is?” She pointed back along the corridor to the ginger cat.

  “No, do you?”

  “Yes, his name is Oggy, he’s got a friend called Timmo,” She grinned, “they’re on their holidays, they live on the Island, they’re very old.”

  Like sixty years? thought Cassie. She turned back to the little girl but she’d gone.

  “You need to keep her under control.”

  Cassie’s head whipped round and a woman about fifty years old was standing behind her. She was highly made up with a thick pancake mixture plastered on her face. Her lips were two thin slashes of untidy scarlet lines and they were pulled down in a grimace of annoyance. Her hair was dirty blonde and tugged back in a tight bun off her forehead. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Her, the little girl. She’s a pest, running up and down the corridor, she needs a good smacking. You young girls need lessons in parenting.”

  “I don’t think so.” Cassie was beginning to dislike the woman. She was tall, just under six feet in her heels, wearing a shimmering tight fitting green dress that showed up her bulging stomach.

  “What you looking at?” the woman asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “Nothing. Are you going to a dance?”

  “No, of course not, I’m one of the cleaners, I’m just off to plunge my hand down a shitty toilet bowl to free up a blocked system,” she said sarcastically, adding, “What do you think?”

  That you’re a very rude miserable old bag, thought Carrie. “Sorry,” she said, “My mistake.”

  “You’re staring at me because you think I’m pregnant, aren’t you?” the woman spoke sharply.

  “No, you’re too old to be pregnant.” Cassie said bluntly, and couldn’t resist adding, “You’ve just got a fat stomach.”

  “How dare you!” the woman glared at Cassie furiously. “I’m having twins, and I’m not too old, I’m thirty two.”

  “And the rest.” Cassie wasn’t sure why she was tormenting the woman, she simply didn’t like her. Her remark about smacking a child had upset her and she’d never got on with people who thought they were better than she was. After the day she’d had she wasn’t prepared to take any more of the nonsense. “So when are the twins due?” she enquired sweetly.

  The woman patted her bulging stomach. “Any time now. My waters have already broken. I’m looking for a midwife.”

  “Of course you are but you not going to find one on a dance floor; are you?”

  “You haven’t seen my husband have you?” The woman asked abruptly. She looked behind Cassie, “Oh, it’s all right, he’s here now.” For the first time she smiled showing a row of small uneven teeth stained with red lipstick.

  Cassie turned and her breath caught in her throat.

  Staggering towards them was a caricature of a man. He wore grey baggy ill fitting trousers, a frilly pink blouse and a pair of red slippers. Blood was running from his nose splashing onto the blouse and one of his hands was missing. He waved the red bloody stump in the air.

  “Arthur, you’ve had another nose bleed, where’s your hankie?” The woman sounded irritated.

  “Stop fussing Violet, it’s in my pocket but I can’t reach it.” He waved his stump at her again.

  “The babies are coming, Arthur, what are you going to do about it?”

  Horrified, Cassie watched as he drew nearer. He smelt awful, like an abattoir, the stench of his unwashed body made her stomach twist and she thought she was going to be sick. She started to back away and then he grabbed onto her jacket with his other hand.

  “I want a word with you,” he said, his eyes round and staring. “Your boyfriend’s taken my trousers, left me with these,” he indicated to the baggy trousers, “I want them back.” His voice had thickened and he began dribbling. The pupils of his eyes began rolling and horrified, Cassie tried to pull away from him.

  “You look fine, Arthur,” Violet assured him. “Leave the girl alone, sh
e’s not one your bits on the side, you can’t do it anymore, don’t you remember? It got bitten off.” She sounded satisfied and Cassie’s eyes widened in disbelief when she looked down and saw a large dried bloody stain covering the front of his trousers. She cringed.

  The woman turned to Cassie. “You’ll have to help me, there’s no one else around.” She pointed to the man, “He’s no bloody use with one hand.” She staggered for a m0ment and then pushed open the nearest cabin door. “In here,” she said, “It’s as good as anywhere.” She looked over her shoulder, “Arthur, go and fetch some towels and hot water, it’s the least you can do.” She glared at him and waited until he’d shuffled off.

  “Silly old fool,” she muttered. “I told him to put a condom on it but what did he do instead? Tricked me, told me he’d had the snip, lying little weasel. I might divorce him, be a single mother, get a council house.”

  Horrified Cassie watched as the woman pulled her dress off and lay down on the bed. She drew her knees up and began panting. “Well, do something,” she yelled. “Get some scissors ready to cut the cords.” Her face turned red and sweat poured from her. Cassie pulled open the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of nail scissors. At a loss, all she could do was watch the woman thrashing about on the bed.

  It seemed impossible that she could be about to produce two babies, her stomach was swollen but not more than an overweight persons, it was flabby and flopping, and Cassie thought it should it be hard with the contractions. But the woman was pushing down now and Cassie wished Arthur would return, she didn’t think she could cope on her own. She’d never been present at a birth before yet according to this strange elderly woman she was about to witness the birth of two babies. Maybe she’d got it wrong and the woman really was only thirty two. Looking at her wrinkled face Cassie could only suppose the poor woman had had a hard life.

  “Don’t just stand there gawping!” Violet yelled at her and then did something so unexpected Cassie could barely believe it.

  She burped. Not once but several times, long and hard and rattling, sending her body into spasms.

  “That’s better,” Violet croaked. With a pained expression on her face she straightened her legs and stood up. She picked up her dress and slipped it on. “Seems I was wrong,” she muttered.

  “You had wind?” Cassie was incredulous, “Seriously, all that performance for a bit of wind?”

  “Are you all right, dear?” Arthur came into the cabin clutching a pile of towels.

  “You’re not going to be a daddy after all,” Violet told him and turned to Cassie, her face tightening up. “I’ll be reporting you to the Captain,” she told her.” You’ve been most unhelpful.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she did her best, Violet,” Arthur bleated.

  Violet rounded on him. “Shut up. Some holiday this is turning out to be; kids running wild around the corridors, cats sneaking up on you and rude passengers.” She glared at Cassie, her eyes hard.

  Cassie stared at her in growing horror as the side of her mouth slipped down.

  “I’m having a stroke, Arthur,” she grumbled.

  “Hard luck old girl. What’s that coming out of your stomach?”

  Nausea rose in Cassie’s throat as the woman’s dress split open. Dead stinking fish began sliding out of her insides.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” Violet’s eyes were flashing at Cassie. “No wonder I had the wind, you’ve turned me into fish food!”

  A large eel slithered out and landed on the floor. It wriggled for a few moments and then lay still.

  Cassie let her breath out in a scream of disgust.

  Chapter 7

  Brett and Jade followed the somewhat comical figure of the self appointed Captain through a maze of corridors.

  “Where are we?” Jade asked. She was still astonished how clean everything was. There was no litter on the floor, no dust anywhere, the whole ship was pristine.

  “Amidships, young lady, don’t you know anything? You want to get to the Bridge don’t you? My Officer on Watch is waiting, you can ask him anything, he’s a know all, thinks he’s better than me.” The Captain’s voice was punctuated with little gasps as they began climbing a flight of steps. “His name is Malcolm Livingstone-Bryson, double barrelled, don’t you know. Wretched man thinks he can tell me how to run my ship.” He gave a short bark of laughter. “Loves the women he does, they fawn over him, disgusting. I’m thinking of firing him when we get to port.”

  Brett nudged Jade and whispered, “I saw that name on the seating cards at the Captain’s table. Livingstone-Bryson is the real Captain.”

  “So who’s the little fellow?”

  “One of the entertainers, I think, or he could just be a passenger gone rogue.”

  “Great.”

  They continued on and through a door leading out onto the deck. The little man pointed. “There’s the Bridge but you won’t find anyone steering the ship. All the crew have gone off to have sex with the passengers in the cabins, there’s only me left, I’m the last man standing.” He puffed himself up. “I expect you’re wondering where the ship is heading?”

  “That would be helpful, yes,” Brett said.

  “I can’t tell you, it’s a mystery tour.” He twisted his head around, “Ah, here comes that upstart, Livingstone-Bryson now, I’ll leave you to it.” He disappeared through the door.

  Coming towards them was a tall well built man in his mid thirties. He was wearing striped pyjamas and an open dressing gown, his slippers flapping on the wet deck. His sleeves were rolled up as he drew nearer to them Jade could see what looked like huge bite marks on both of his arms.

  “Damn sharks,” He said holding his hand out. Brett shook it warily. The man smiled. “There I was trying to get to sleep, minding my own business and the next thing I knew I was being attacked by a shark. Bloody things are everywhere. Still, no matter, what can I do for you?” He absently scratched at his already sore arm causing a spurt of blood to soak into his pyjamas. He glanced down and sighed.

  “Are you the Captain?” Jade asked.

  “I am indeed. Livingstone-Bryson at your service.”

  “Where is everyone, all the other passengers?” Brett asked.

  “Swimming,” the Captain said firmly. “I saw them all go overboard at the same time. That’s what’s so good about this holiday; it enables people to enjoy themselves any way they choose. I mean, if they all want to go deep sea diving who am I to stop them?” He laughed. “They’ve paid a high price for this cruise after all. It was advertised as the holiday to end all holidays and they certainly got what they paid for.” He paused and looked Brett up and down. “You’re a bit casually dressed for dinner, aren’t you? Still, no matter, there’s room at my table for you. I’ll ask the waiter, Gary Wurner, to put out two extra plates.”

  “We’ve already eaten, thank you,” Brett replied politely. He was beginning to feel dizzy; there was something surreal about the conversation. He had no doubt that the man standing in front of him had indeed been the real Captain of the ship once a long time ago and of course he shouldn’t be standing on deck with a silly smile on his face as if everything was just fine and dandy. Brett glanced at Jade and thought she looked pale which wasn’t surprising.

  The Captain began to fidget and Jade felt sick. The man standing in front of her was shedding his skin becoming transparent. He was looking down at himself, a surprised expression on his face.

  “Oh dear,” he mumbled, “I seem to be disappearing. “Fortunately I’ve left Mr Burns, my Officer on Watch in charge of the command centre on the Bridge so you get off and enjoy yourselves. We’ll be stopping soon; you can take in the sights on Sandy Island.” He turned and lurched away gradually vanishing bit by bit until he’d completely disappeared.

  “Now do you believe me?” Jade asked.

  Brett’s eyes glazed over. “It’s too weird, Jade,” he said. “How can this be happening?”

  Jade ignored him, peering out over the ocean. “He sai
d the ship was stopping at Sandy Island, it’s our chance to get off this wretched ship. Let’s go back to the others and tell them.”

  “No, I still think we should go to the Bridge. Someone’s guiding this ship, we need to know what’s going on.”

  Reluctantly Jade followed him. How much more proof did Brett need before he accepted they were on a ghost ship? Jade wondered. She looked out across the ocean but she couldn’t see anything other than a great expanse of water. No Island, no signs of civilisation. Maybe Captain Livingstone-Bryson had made it up about Sandy Island, nothing was what it seemed she realised.

  They came to some stairs and Brett began climbing the steps. “This should take us to the topmost deck where the ship’s Bridge is housed,” he said.

  “Well, you already know the Captain isn’t there, we saw him disappear.”

  “Somebody has to be working the navigation system,” Brett replied stubbornly, and began striding along another corridor.

  A small fat woman stepped out of a door and stood in front of them. “Excuse me,” she said, “But you’re in my way. I have to get to the lifeboat.”

  “Jesus!” Brett breathed.

  Jade stared at the woman with growing dismay. She was soaking wet, the water dribbling down her skirt and splashing onto the floor. Her grey hair was plastered to her face in soggy tendrils. She could have been any age between thirty and fifty, it was hard to tell. Maybe she’d once been attractive but now she was grotesque, her fat red cheeks bulging and her nose squashed to one side.

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” The woman sounded irritable. She raised her voice suddenly, “Myrtle!” she yelled. “My daughter,” she explained. “I told her we had to go but she likes it here.” She coughed up a wad of blood and wiped it away leaving a smear on her skirt. “My name’s Stella.”

  A young woman about twenty put her head round the door. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, her hair hanging limply around her face. In a flat monotone voice she said, “Mum, Come back inside, it’s too late for us now, you need to dry off.”