by Trimboli, TJ
Jim’s curiosity got the better of him so he did the only rational thing he could think of. He grabbed the sides of his chair rolling himself over to the window. His eyes widened. Below on the ground was thousands upon thousands of the undead. They stood in front of the building staring ahead at the doors they had barred days ago. Jim looked both ways down the street, the horde went on as far as the eye could see.
We are going to die here.
At the front of the pack sat a body upon a horse. It was unclear through the debris but he could swear the man was stripped of his flesh.
The thing roared, the sound deafening. It shattered the windows around them, one of the women tumbling out falling six stories below.
Everyone jumped back but Jim remained staring down at the man on the horse. He must have felt his gaze because he looked up to greet him. His red menacing eyes burning holes into Jim’s body. The man smiled and the zombies sprang into motion. He heard the doors below shatter in two, the horde making their way to greet them.
Once more, Jim did the only rational thing he could think of. He pushed his chair through the broken window to greet the ground below. Like he said, he wasn’t a hero and had no intention of being on the menu while he still breathed. His last image as he stared up at the sky was a beautiful yellow sun staring back at him and a large plane flying overhead. The bottom flaps of the plane opened wide releasing an object right above him. It sank with the speed of superman to greet the horde and wipe New York City from the map.
PART TWO
THE MUTINY
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TRENT
“SQUAK!” A seagull cawed.
Trent stirred from his sleep. Wiping away the crust from his eyes, he surveyed the room, horrified to discover himself sandwiched between two deceased lovers. He leapt up out of the bed. Fumbling with the covers, he fell, colliding with the lamp and ottoman beside the bed. His heart raced, sweat glistening his skin.
Get a hold of yourself. Chill. Check your surroundings.
The balcony door stood open circulating a cool breeze.
It’s not so hot yet, so it must still be pretty early, eight if I had to guess.
The breeze prickled at his body. He realized he was naked. Grabbing the blankets, he covered himself.
Jesus Christ, how much booze does one have to drink to die around here? Where is that chick? What was her name again? Lucy? Lindsey?
He gazed around for his clothes. They were nowhere to be found.
Where the fuck are my clothes?
He thought as hard as he could to recall the previous night’s activities. He remembered being sprung from jail, heading to the woman’s room. Then the near spotless abode the woman kept and wondering just how hard she struggled to keep it that way. He remembered the booze, that he could never forget. The awe and joy he felt when he saw just how much booze she had hidden away. It was enough to kill five people, maybe more.
Yet, here you are.
The breeze picked up scratching at his body. His nipples hardened. Draping the blanket over his shoulders, he sluggishly walked to the door. The illuminating gaze of the sun helped to calm the hangover. His head weighed a ton like someone had filled it with cement while he slept. It took all his might to hold himself up. Though, he felt no nausea and one habit of hangovers he’d always managed to avoid, the overwhelming sense to return the previous night’s sustenance into the world. He felt none of that. In fact, besides the side splitting cement headache, he actually felt rather well. Hungry even, though he would eat no food. His diet would be strictly liquid and at the moment, he felt a terrible thirst.
He shut the door turning back to the suite. Without the breeze to mask it, the stench of decay impregnated the room. Trent gagged. Alcohol may not make him nauseas but the foul odor of rotting carcass will. He teared the sliding door open gasping for air. “Fuck that’s nasty.” He spat. He waited while the breeze swept through the room, trying to remember where the woman’s room was situated. No number or floor came to mind. He was burning through brain cells by the hundreds as the days went on and thoughts no longer came easy to him. All he could summon up was the last words she spoke to him. “See you on the other side.” God, for her sake, I hope she doesn’t wake up.
The odor was expunged from the room and Trent made his way to the door. He stopped himself from opening it.
What am I thinking? I can’t go out there without clothes.
He raided the room for anything of use but came up empty. The dressers, the closet, all barren. He glanced at the couple lying on the bed. The woman was useless to him. Her sun dress would draw more attention than if he were to wear the blanket out. The man was another story. He was a tad taller than Trent but thankfully, looked to be about the same weight. His Levis would do. The man also wore a button down Hawaiian themed shirt with the theme of toucans.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
He crept towards the couple. Their bodies had turned, faces rotted, yet they looked at peace. Their arms stretched out interlocking their fingers in the middle of the bed. They had been flattened by Trent’s body. It skeeved him out to think he’d slept all night with them. The third wheel in their romp. He went to tear off the man’s shoes when he saw it; the booze situated on the table next to them and not just any booze, Black Label. He darted past the couple, slamming into the dresser he was so eager. Ripping the cap off, he lifted the bottle over his head awaiting the succulent splendor to wash over him.
None came—the bottle was empty.
Trent felt so defeated, he sunk onto the bed beside the rotting corpses. He no longer cared. All he wanted was to be one of them, yet here he was. The bottle dropped from his hands tumbling under the bed and for the first time since Trent was a boy, he cried. Not only did Trent cry, he sobbed. And then Trent did what came so naturally to him, he got mad.
“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME DIE?” he shouted at the ceiling.
“Boy, you sure do sound like a broken record when you’re sober,” a voice said.
Trent turned to see Noah standing in the doorway, his bartender’s outfit clean as a whistle.
Trent leapt up to greet him dropping the blanket in the process. “I need your help!” he exclaimed.
“I can see that. How about putting on some pants?”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“There’s some right there on the bed.”
“But he’s dead.”
“Exactly. He ain’t gonna be needing them.” Noah strolled into the room taking a seat on the sofa. “You want to close that door hoss, it’s freezing in here.” “It’s for the smell.”
“Makes sense. So how’s things?” Noah asked.
“Besides waking up in bed with a dead couple. Just peachy.”
“Ah that. We’ve all been there.”
“Is that so?” Trent asked sarcastically.
“Well, not me personally but I know a guy.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Well, you.” Noah smirked.
“Funny.”
“Hurry up and get dressed, I got something I want to show you.”
“What is it?” “A surprise.”
Trent pulled the shoes off the dead man. “What kind of surprise?” He chose to leave the man with his socks. The thought of wearing the dead man’s socks felt utterly macabre to him.
“The kind of surprise I’m not fixing to spoil. Now hurry.”
Trent undid the clasps of the belt unbuttoning the pants. The pants were two sizes too large for the man and they slid off with ease. He let the man keep his tidy whities. He was not about to go down that road either. Lastly, he unbuttoned the toucan shirt slipping it off one arm at a time.
The man lay there in his drawers and socks and Trent felt worse than he had in his entire life.
He just raided a dead man for his clothes.
Can my life sink any lower before you give up and let me die? He dressed himself.
“Probably not,” Noah replied.
Tr
ent turned to him confused.
Noah saw this and went on, “I just figured you were probably wondering if you could be a bigger piece of shit than you are right now, having just robbed a corpse of its outfit. Probably not…All set? Let’s rock.”
Trent followed Noah’s lead stopping short by the mirror. Looking at the reflection in the mirror felt like staring at stranger’s on the subway. He had no idea who this person was staring back at him.
Noah approached him. “I know, you look better than you ever have before. Now let’s go, the surprise will not wait around forever. It closes at noon.”
He felt a bulge in the pocket. Reaching in, he pulled out an iPhone six. The screen was cracked but otherwise in decent shape. He squeezed the button on top waiting for that old familiar apple to illuminate the screen. It never came. Nothing ever happened. Technology was dead and he had to accept that. Only he couldn’t. It’s what started this journey after all.
Noah snapped him out of this daze. “Quit fucking around. Let’s go.” He walked off.
Trent threw the phone at the sliding door. At least he wanted to. He made the motion with his arm but never let the iPhone slip from his fingers. The touch felt calming to him, a reminder of the world he no longer inhabited. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. He gave the rotted lovers one last look before leaving. He caught up to Noah at the end of the hallway.
He waited at the stairs. A big five adorned the wall behind him.
How did I end up down here? “Where are we going?” Trent asked.
“You sure do ask a lot of questions. Just chill the fuck out and follow me.” Noah replied. He headed down the stairs.
Trent followed. The only times he ever ventured down below his floor was for fishing duty.
Floors two, three and four remained a mystery to him. A mystery that was about to be solved.
They strolled below four and three.
Noah stopped at two, heading down the hallway. It was pitch black. They carried no flashlight or candle. Noah seemed to adapt to the darkness instantaneously, he strolled the halls with the calm, confident demeanor he eerily possessed.
It terrified and astounded Trent. He followed close behind, his eyes taking longer to adjust. Water dripped in the distance, the sound of which gnawed at Trent’s psyche. He tried not to think of it. “How do you do it?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Be so at ease. Everything’s going on and here you are walking like the world has kept on turning.”
“That’s because it has my friend. The world still revolves around the sun doesn’t it? Just because the human race has dwindled to a fraction of what it once was doesn’t mean everything’s come to a standstill. It just means the rules have changed.”
He never thought of it that way. It strangely made him feel relaxed, as if for once the weight of the ship wasn’t closing in on him. “So you don’t mind what’s happened? It doesn’t bother you at all? All the death, the loss of family, food shortage, no more technology?”
“I’m not a robot Trent. I have feelings. The first three days on this ship, I wept like a fourteen year old girl getting her period for the first time. Does that make you feel better?”
“Not really,” Trent replied. His eyes began to adjust to the darkness. They were passing through what had to have been the crew members barracks on the ship. The rooms had been raided but the place looked much more kempt than the rooms above.
Everyone must be too afraid to venture down here.
“The technology gets me from time to time.” Noah confided.
Trent felt curious. “Does it?”
“Of course. I did grow up in this technological boom after all. I’m not older like you Trent. I may have wisdom beyond my years but I’m only twenty one. I never lived in a world without technology. That was quite a thing to get over.”
“How did you?”
“I’m gonna show you.”
At the end of the hall, Trent could see a set of double doors. They were headed straight for them. “I never expected I’d become as dependent as I did with technology,” Trent explained. “It all started out so small. An upgrade to a smart phone to make it easier to stay in contact with family. Next thing I know I’m downloading apps by the dozen. Then it grows to the TV’s and the video game systems and before you know it, every aspect of your life is associated with it. Then one day, it all disappears and you’re left there knowing that it’s all gone and there’s no one left with the knowledge to get it back. It’s just you and you’re thoughts and that’s just the thing you were trying to escape in the first place.” He never meant for it all to come out but there it was, out in the open. His mind was unraveling and he didn’t know how to fix it.
Noah knew better than to reply, he simply stopped at the double doors. He banged against them.
No one answered but Trent heard the door unlock. “Do you think we deserve this?”
Noah smiled at him. “Yes Trent, I do.”
Noah opened the door ushering Trent inside.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BOBBI
Bobbi stood on the pool deck feeling as lifeless as the corpse she gazed upon. She’d spent the better part of the morning questioning witnesses, looking for clues, and here she stood further from the culprit than ever before. She’d desperately searched for any sign that steered her away from Trent but her hope remained slim. The last person to see the woman alive saw her carousing around with Trent on the casino floor. That was three in the morning and her body was found at six. The odds were not in her favor. No one had seen Trent since that sighting and the best thing for him now would be to stay hidden.
Valentina already put out the call to bring him in. He escaped the hangman’s noose once by sheer luck and her determination but the iron was cold now and the chances of lightening striking twice were non-existent.
Her last hope resided in Joe, his autopsy hopefully, pointing her in a more clear direction and away from Trent. He was many things during their relationship but a murderer he was not. She refused to believe all the years on the force he went out of his way to subdue a criminal, instead of killing one was all for naught. He wouldn’t throw all that away no matter how scared he was, she was sure of it. In fact, she had seen it firsthand the night Kevin died. He had stopped Bobbi from making a grave mistake, one that would alter her life unequivocally. How close she came to shooting that man dead, with only Trent’s soothing tone and wise words to calm her blood lust.
He kept her from killing in cold blood that night.
If only he could have stopped me on this ship as well.
Joe cleared his throat.
Bobbi spun around snapping out of her train of thought.
Joe awkwardly smiled at her leaving her supremely uncomfortable. Joe was a nice enough guy but not one to set off any fires in the kitchen for her. She needed a man, not a boy. In fact, given the pathetic nature of men on this ship, she would pick Becky over this dingus, over any of them.
Keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll believe it.
“What’s the verdict?” she asked getting right into it. Maybe that way, he’ll drop the love sick puppy routine.
Joe gathered his senses turning his attention to the body. “Blunt trauma to the back of the head. Do you mind?” He pointed to the body.
Bobbi bent down lifting the corpse up by the shoulders. The back of the poor girl’s skull was caved in as if a meteor crashed into it. She hadn’t seen it earlier, too distracted by the amount of blood spilt from her throat. “So the throat slashing?”
“Merely a means of making a scene. Probably done post mortem to make it seem like the other killings. The way they positioned the body was done perfectly, so no one would see the skull indentation. Chances are they expected the body to be tossed over the same as all the others. Why do an autopsy when you see a slit throat right in front of you, especially in our day and age.”
Bobbi returned the body to its prone position. There’s no way this was
Trent. It’s too animalistic.
“I’m sorry,” Joe said bringing her back to reality.
“For what?” She replied.
“I’m sorry, you know, about Trent. It’s a hard thing to have to deal with…bringing in a murderer that happens to be your husband. If it’s any help I’m here—” “What makes you think it was Trent?” Bobbi asked pointedly.
Joe was taken aback at first by her defensive demeanor. “You can’t honestly think it’s not him? Bobbi, the man was found black out drunk at the scene of one crime and now was the last known person with this one and he hasn’t been seen since. If he’s so innocent how come he hasn’t come forward?”
“There’s a solid chance he hasn’t come to yet. We don’t know how long his bender could last and the way he’s been drinking, there’s no way he could bash someone’s skull in like a gorilla or string these bodies up the way they have been. The sheer amount of strength he would have to use would be impossible, given his condition.” Bobbi stood up walking away from the clusters of bodies around them. She needed air and to cool off.
Joe followed her giving her no respite. “How can you defend this man Bobbi? There are good people dying all around you and you defend this criminal. You are supposed to uphold the law from criminals, not help them get away with it.”
“And you are supposed to be a doctor, not a criminal law expert. You know how to treat ailments, not read people. I do. Not only that, I’ve been with this man for seven years. I know everything about him, including what he’s capable of. You are wrong, everyone on this ship is wrong. Someone is making it out to look like he is a murderer but he isn’t and I will prove it.” Bobbi stormed off hoping that would be the end of it.
Joe must have finally hit his wit’s end because he continued to follow her giving her no quarter. “Why do you do this to yourself? Make excuses, ruin your life for a man who stopped caring about yours the second the lights went out!” He roared.
