by Stead, Nick
“Mind if I put the TV on for a bit?” he asked. “It’s one of the inventions I find most intriguing in this modern age.”
We shook our heads. There weren’t many channels to choose from, but he managed to find an old horror movie from the early 70s. I’d never really been a fan of old movies and yet the film seemed to have a magic to it that night. Maybe it was just because I’d not been expecting such luxuries aboard the ship, but I found myself enjoying the movie as much as any present day blockbuster. For a while it helped take my mind off all my current troubles, my spirits rising once more. Perhaps our time at sea wouldn’t be so bad after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY–SEVEN
The Coming Storm
The ship rocked gently beneath my feet, a motion I was coming to loathe. Waves rolled across the seemingly endless watery expanse, stretching out in every direction as far as my eyes could see. Land was becoming an increasingly distant dream. By day there were only the grey skies above and the equally dull ocean below, and by night it was all just black under the sliver of moonlight.
At first there’d been a novelty to it all. I’d stared out across those waves with fresh hope, and searched the water for any sea creatures lurking just below the surface. Once or twice I thought I might have seen a dark shape swim by, but as the days passed I was beginning to think there was nothing but shadows. I certainly hadn’t seen any dorsal fins slicing through the waves, and I’d given up on catching a glimpse of the sharks I’d been looking for.
The novelty soon wore off, and with each new day lost in the sheer vastness of the ocean, my resentment of life on board grew. How anyone could choose a life at sea was beyond me. I was struggling to hear the same alluring call Zee talked of, and the sound of the waves was far from soothing. The shrieks of the gulls and other sea birds and the splash of the water merely grated on my nerves, and it was all I could do not to scream.
My world had been reduced to the ship we were trapped on. Zee might have found his freedom out here, but in my heart I would always belong to the earth I longed to run across once more. I was built for chasing down prey over miles of land, not pacing the confines of this new type of cage, with its unchanging surroundings and lack of things to kill. Feeding on cuts of meat held no satisfaction, convenient though it was, and fishing couldn’t satisfy my desire to hunt. This was no life for a creature born to lope across solid ground. My freedom had been taken from me, my eyes mournful. With the dawning of each new day, I searched the horizon for the land I longed to return to and found none, and all the hope I’d had fell into a newly opened pit of despair.
It had only been a handful of days, perhaps a week at most, and yet it felt so much longer. Each of those days seemed to stretch into months, the thought of having to endure another few days or so of this new torment now unbearable.
I supposed I should be grateful to be on a modern ship. Sailing would have been much harder in Zee’s day, and we’d have needed a far bigger crew. Thanks to the wonders of technology, we no longer had to rely solely on the elements to carry us across the waves, which meant none of the hard labour as far as dealing with sails and rigging and things went. All that would have been easier with our greater strength, but it would surely have become a chore as the days wore on. Then again, maybe it would have given us something to do.
Having a toilet on board also made things considerably more pleasant than they would have been on a pirate ship in the eighteenth century, and we even had a shower. We had to be careful to conserve our water supply so I’d only used it once to wash off some of the blood and gore caked to my skin, but it was an added comfort I’d not been expecting. And yet, such comforts did not make the days any easier to bear. Even the TV failed to cheer me up after that first night. It didn’t help that the choice of channels was limited, and they rarely showed anything of interest. Daytime TV was worse than staring out at the sea, and there wasn’t much more on during the evenings, or at least not for a creature with my tastes.
I turned away from the depressing view and glanced at the wheelhouse. Brendan was at the wheel as usual during the daylight hours. Gwyn stood beside him, deep in conversation with the human.
“Hey, Gwyn, you know what YouTube is?” Brendan asked, as I made my way back into the cabin.
“I’ve heard of YouTube before, aye,” Gwyn answered. “It’s an internet thing for sharing videos, right?”
“Yeah. We won’t get a signal out here but I’ve still got a few I uploaded saved on my phone. Here, watch this.”
They went quiet for a moment, probably while Brendan went through his files for the relevant video, then it started playing. The sounds coming from the phone didn’t really give any hints as to what they were watching, but it ended with the two of them in fits of laughter.
I ventured into the galley. The vampires were dead to the world and Selina was taking a shower. I raided the fridge for more raw steak and took a seat at the table, ripping into the meat with little enthusiasm.
Gwyn came to find me a moment later.
“Nick, you gotta see this,” he said, Brendan’s phone in his hand.
“I doubt it,” I growled, in no mood for whatever it was. Nothing short of land on the horizon was going to raise my spirits, and until that happy moment, I wanted to be left to deal with my misery in my own way. Some might call that nothing more than childish moping around, but it was what I needed. I’d socialise with them again when I felt like it, after I’d made it through this latest dark patch.
“Come on, it’s only short,” Gwyn insisted, tapping the buttons while he spoke. “Damn, I lost it. Give me a minute to get it up again.”
I glared at him but didn’t bother saying anything aloud. My response should have been pretty clear, and yet he sat beside me anyway.
“Okay, it’s one of these. Just give me a moment to find the right one,” he said, tapping the arrow keys to navigate through Brendan’s files. “Wait for it… Wait…”
I took another bite of steak and tried to remember everything I’d experienced in my dream of hunting with a pack of natural wolves, trying to rekindle the hope I’d had for the future. But it was no use. I was starting to feel like Hell had called in its debt already, sentencing me to an eternity lost in this watery torment. The meat might as well have been turning to ashes in my mouth, for all the pleasure the meal brought. I needed to hunt again.
“Ah, this must be it!” He held the phone up in front of my face. “Almost there…”
Gwyn selected the file and clicked to play. I scowled at the images on the screen, unable to see what was so funny. My expression remained one of annoyance, with not even the faintest hint of a smile or amusement creeping into my features.
“…it’s a cat jumping into a box!” he said, as if that explained everything. The cat did land awkwardly and was given a fright when the box toppled onto one side, shooting back out an instant later and jumping up onto the sofa. She stood for a moment with her tail twitching, as if she knew people were laughing at her and found the situation highly irritating. The video cut off when she began to walk away with her tail held high, as though trying to regain some dignity.
I shifted my gaze from the video to the knocker, eyes burning amber. Most creatures would have had the sense to leave me be if I gave them that look. But not Gwyn.
“Oh don’t you look at me like that. I was lurking in a mine since before you were in nappies. Mobile phones were still indestructible bricks. There’s another one, why does high tech stuff always have to break? They dig up MY precious metals and minerals and they cram them into little, easily breakable boxes and then we get cat videos.”
“Then go join the humans if you think you can do better,” I growled. “You seem to be getting on well enough with Zee’s pet mortal.”
“Man, I remember when the only use for my treasures was bronze n’ flint,” he continued, as if I’d not spoken. “And then they started inventing all these devices and contraptions. Fast forward a few millennia and suddenly they’re
using it all to put a dude on the moon! Which, yeah, exciting. But am I gonna get those minerals back when they’re floating off into space? No sir.”
“You’re a spirit. Can’t you just fly up there and take them back if you’re really that bothered?”
The phone lay forgotten on the table now. His gaze drifted into that same faraway place Zee often went to, though Gwyn must have fallen into the cosmos rather than through time, judging from what he said next. I couldn’t see what was stopping him from actually going up there. As long as he stayed clear of the sun, he could fly around space if he wanted to.
“Wonder what minerals they have on the moon?”
“Who cares? Go bother Brendan and leave me be.”
Finally my words seemed to get through to him. His eyes refocused on our present surroundings and he looked almost bemused by my irritation. “Am I botherin’ you, Stead? I totally am, aren’t I? Heh.”
“Oh now he gets it,” I said. “I came below deck for some solitude and here you are forcing me to watch stupid cat videos and going on about humans and your fucking minerals, when all I want to do is eat in peace and be alone with my thoughts.”
“All right, just remember who it was that saved your arse when Ulfarr came back. Without me, you wouldn’t even be out here.”
“And I’m grateful for that and everything else you’ve done to help but right now I just want to be left alone, so can you piss off and annoy the others?”
“Touchy.” His own face showed mild annoyance then, but he did as I asked, reaching for the phone and striding out of the galley like the cat in the video. I heard him climbing the stairs up to the wheelhouse and sat back, satisfied he wouldn’t trouble me again that day, unless I approached him.
The ship’s interior was no less depressing than the ocean view waiting for me up on deck. No matter what I chose to stare at, I felt equally as trapped. It was easier for Gwyn. Once the moon had been reduced to little more than a thin scar in the blackness overhead, he’d been free to return to his spirit form and leave the ship on a night. There was no light pollution out there in the middle of the ocean, no artificial glow to bind him to corporeal form. In many ways he was the freest of us all, or at least he would be until the moon grew fatter and its light stronger. But we were only just at new moon and probably had a few more nights before it reflected enough light from the sun to keep him human.
Lady Sarah could also enjoy a greater freedom than the rest of us corporeal beings. She’d taken to flying above the ship as a bat, and I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Flapping along on her leathery wings had to be more exciting than pacing around the same space night after night, day after day, and I wished I could join her. But I was even more envious of Gwyn. As a spirit, the waves were as much his to roam as the sky overhead. He could dive into the deeps without fear of drowning or being crushed from the pressure of the water, and I could only imagine what wonders he must have seen down there. I supposed he’d have been free to stay beneath the waves for the entire voyage if he’d wanted to. The moon wouldn’t be strong enough under the surface to force him back into his fleshy prison, even once it began to wax towards full again, and the eternal darkness of the deepest depths would have protected him from the sun during the day. There were times when I found myself wishing he would keep to the water and leave us be, yet with the first light of each new day he was back on board, for reasons I struggled to understand. If I’d had his powers I would much rather be discovering the sea’s secrets than enduring the tedium of the unchanging scenery on its surface.
The sound of Selina coming through to the galley interrupted my thoughts. Her hair was still damp from showering but she was dressed and ready for another bite to eat, the food stored in the cupboards luring her over. My nostrils were soon filled with the smell of more noodles cooking in the microwave, and my stomach made a gurgling plea for another steak. I ignored it, well aware that we’d only been able to bring so much, and once it was gone, I’d be stuck with whatever sea life we could catch or whatever Selina and Brendan could spare out of their stocks, both of which I found less appealing than the steaks I’d been living on. Like Lady Sarah, I wasn’t a lover of fish, and I didn’t really fancy the ready meals and snack foods they’d brought on board for convenience. Things like noodles would be even less satisfying than the pre-killed meat. But my steaks were going down faster than the rest of the food and if I didn’t ration what was left, I wouldn’t have much option but to make do with some of the humans’ share.
I glanced at Selina and thought about bringing up the deal for my soul. It would have been another good moment for it, while the others were out of the way. But again I held my tongue.
Tensions continued to run high that night. Gwyn disappeared the moment the sun went down, a pile of clothes left on deck where his human self had been standing. The vampires weren’t far behind. Zee went straight to the wheelhouse to relieve Brendan of duty and Lady Sarah stood looking up at the sky, apparently more desperate to be free of the ship than she was for blood. They might have to wait to feed on Gwyn till he came back in the hour or so just before dawn, but Brendan had plenty to give if they’d wanted it.
Selina’s temper flared. “Do you really have to do this every night, Sarah?”
“Do what?” Lady Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow and turning to her sister. Icy anger crept across her gaze, her eyes forbidding and intense. Had it been anyone else, I suspected she may well have just killed them for having the audacity to question her so.
“You know what,” Selina said. “It’s one thing for Gwyn to go off – as long as he’s not foolish enough to get caught in any light, there’s not much that can harm him. But you’re not a spirit. What if the Slayers are planning some kind of naval assault and you’re caught out there in their line of fire, alone and too far from the ship for us to do anything about it?”
Lady Sarah laughed. It had a haughty air to it and for a moment I was reminded of my old English teacher, Aughtie. She’d been dubbed haughty Aughtie by her fellow staff, due to the way she’d treated everyone like an underling. I wondered if Hell had claimed her soul as well, and whether the demons had taught her any humility since I’d sent her down there.
“Do not be foolish, sister. If they were to mount such an attack, I would hear them coming long before they came within range of any of us. Your fears are unfounded.”
Selina folded her arms and looked away. “It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve taken us unawares.”
“On land, where they can creep downwind and mask the sounds of their bodies. What are they going to do out here? Swim over to the ship? I think not. They would come in their vessels with engines as loud as this one, and I would be back aboard and ready to fight long before they came into view.”
“Well there’s other dangers. What if you get caught in a sudden storm? I’m sure even an Elder would find eighty mile per hour winds a challenge, and your strength is far from that of an Elder.”
Lady Sarah shook her head with growing impatience. “Again, I would sense a storm coming before I got caught in it. You are just jealous of my ability to shapeshift.”
“I’m worried about you taking unnecessary risks!” Selina’s arms were back by her sides, her hands balled into fists. “You’ve always been so quick to counsel others to exercise caution, yet here you are gambling with your own life for the sake of a few more nights stuck on this ship. It’s stupid and reckless.”
Lady Sarah’s hands also formed into fists. “No, stupid was letting you come out here with us when you still have that weak mortal body. Yet I never tried to stop you, though perhaps I should have after you nearly threw your own life away on the beach!”
“How is the offer to sacrifice my life for a friend throwing it away? Someone had to hold Ulfarr off long enough to get the ship out of his range and you can’t expect it to be Zee and Gwyn every time, just because you’re afraid of losing me!”
“Ladies,” Zee said, rushing out of the wheelhouse
to smooth things over before it got out of hand. You could practically feel the atmosphere their rage created, as if the air had become charged with it. “We’re all adults here and we should respect each other’s decisions, so long as none of us endangers anyone else. In any case, Lady Sarah is quite right – we would sense both the Slayers and storms coming in plenty of time to evade them. There’s no harm in her roaming the night skies, if that is her wish.”
The two sisters stood glaring at each other, clenched knuckles whitening. Their voices had been growing steadily louder, but Zee’s presence did seem to go some way towards calming them. They’d stopped arguing at least. I might have smiled if we’d been anywhere else. They were centuries old and yet here they were, acting just like two mortal siblings struggling to get on whilst trapped under the same roof. Some things never change.
Lady Sarah was the first to turn away, though I wouldn’t really call it backing down. Her gaze returned to the sky.
It had grown noticeably colder as the days went by and the ship forged on, further into the north. But neither of the vampires had donned any of the warmer clothes Selina had packed for those of us with living bodies. Lady Sarah still wore her black dress, the material falling away from her lithe form like a second skin. An overgrown vampire bat emerged from that outer membrane she’d shed and leapt into the air, climbing higher above the waves with each mighty flap of her wings.
“She never respected my decisions,” I muttered, watching her go. Though to be fair, whenever she’d lectured me about being reckless it was usually with good reason. I had put others at risk on nothing more than a murderous whim. And it was that as much as my new respect for the sanctity of life which had made me want to turn away from the bloody path I’d set myself on.
