by Trimboli, TJ
It crested at its normal position. The next wave was a slight dip. The ship was rocking consistently.
“Maybe I will stay in tonight.”
Thunder boomed killing the power. Kendra screamed.
“Relax. Storm must have knocked out the power,” Heidi said.
“That’s not good.”
“No. No, it’s not. Losing internet and satellite feeds is one thing. Losing electricity is another one entirely. Come on.” Heidi dusted her robe off.
“Where are we going?”
“Someone needs to get the power going again.” “Can you even do that?” Kendra wondered.
“Tim taught me some things for when he was out of town. The best I can do is give it a shot, this is my test.”
“What about mine?” Kendra began when their door burst open. Light protruded in temporarily blinding them. Kendra felt around trying to find a surface to balance herself. She heard screaming. Sight came back to her and there they were.
Two men stood at the entrance to their room. A tall, dark, brooding man with a slash underneath his lip and the man she had earlier given water to.
Heidi took a step in front of Kendra. “What do you want?”
They said nothing. They slowly stepped forward peering around the room. They stopped short when they saw the water peeking out from under Kendra’s bed. The staggering of the ship must have revealed it.
“I’ll kindly ask you to leave now,” Heidi stated stepping towards them.
The slash man backhanded Heidi knocking her onto the bed.
Kendra saw the scissors on her dresser making a mad dash for them. The water man grabbed her throwing her into the wall. She collapsed, blood trickling from her nose. She peered up to see the slash man approaching Heidi brandishing a butcher’s knife. She ran at him but the water man grabbed her by the hair pulling her back. He dragged her into the hallway. She screamed every step of the way. She watched as the man mounted Heidi before disappearing from view.
She was dragged on her back, by her hair down the hall. She heard screaming and it was getting closer. She looked up as the man dragged her into a room. He threw her down in front of him. She saw two woman both lying on a bed. They screamed, kicked, and pleaded but two men held them down having their way with them. She charged at them but the water man hip checked her into the mirror beside her. It shattered cutting up her body. She collapsed on the ground gasping for air.
The water man stood over her holding a pair of scissors. “Is this what you want? Go on, take ‘em” He said holding out the pair for her to grab.
She leapt for them but he swiped them away.
He grabbed at her hair cutting it to pieces like a child would making a paper snowflake. She screamed and lunged at him but he was too quick and evasive for her to stop it. She could only watch as her golden blonde hair was shredded from her body.
She couldn’t even hear the screams of the women beside her anymore.
A door burst open. A dark man with a splotchy beard and turban stumbled in. He was obviously drunk off his ass. Another rapist late to the party.
The water man turned toward him angrily. “What the fuck are you doing in here haji? Beat it,” the man said kicking the darker man in the gut.
Kendra wasted no time grabbing the man’s arm that held the scissor pushing it lightening quick, into this throat. The water man was inebriated and his reflexes were shit. The scissor dug straight into his artery killing him in seconds.
“You—you saved—m-my life,” he stammered.
Kendra dove at one of the men on the bed digging the scissors into his neck severing his spinal cord.
The rapist went down like a sack of potatoes bleeding profusely as he screamed.
The other man lunged at her leaving his penis exposed. As he tackled her, she slid the scissors down stabbing into his prick. He howled in pain keeling over.
The two naked women on the bed dove at him beating him senseless. He would feel every punch, every kick, and every scrape until they finally killed him.
Kendra lay on her side in gut wrenching pain.
The man she saved held out his hand to help her up. “I am Ahmed and I owe you my life.”
Her sister immediately popped into her head. Kendra tore off past him, running for her room. She stopped at the door. The room was covered in blood, her sister’s blood. She lay on the bed, eyes open. Her wrists had been slashed, the brown of her robe turned black and damp.
Kendra’s knees buckled and she fell. She broke down crying out in agony. The one thing she had left in this life—gone. She’d waited for over a decade for any sign that her sister was out there, that she still cared and when she finally found her, she’d been wrested away from her.
Ahmed caught up to her now. He saw the body and knew better than to speak. He stood there keeping a watchful eye while she grieved.
Sometime later, her crying ceased and she picked up her sister’s bible. It would be her new mantelpiece. Her sister often spoke of tests, riddles and quests the lord above would seek to prove their worth to the almighty above. Once the tests were completed, one would be given access to his kingdom. Heidi had proven herself time and time again. Her death was a sign she was finally granted passage to his kingdom but Kendra’s test still remained.
Kendra ached and mourned for her sister but she knew Heidi’s death was her test. She grabbed her robe from underneath her bed. She stripped herself of her clothes, adorning only the robe. She grabbed her battery charged buzzer off the counter. She used the last of the juice left to shave her head bare all the while staring at her sister’s corpse in the mirror. All her life, her sister devoted her life to the teachings of God. She tried to convert any she could but would kindly step aside when none would listen.
I will not be so kind. I will not be shunned aside any further. A ghost in the world. I will convert the masses. This ship needs GOD, this ship needs to be cleansed. I will prove my worth to the LORD, but most importantly, I will prove to my sister. I will pass this test so we can once again be together. This I swear to you. In Christ our lord, amen. She prayed then gave one last look at her sister before turning to the man with her. “You.” Ahmed stood attentive swaying back and forth.
“You owe me your life and I expect it to be paid.”
“Anything. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
“This old world is rotten, corrupted. It’s why GOD rose the dead from the Earth. We need to be cleansed and a new world must be erected in its place. Only then will we be granted asylum from this purgatory. Will you stand by my side, fight for me, speak for me, die for me if necessary?” she spoke clearly and bountifully.
Her words seemed to instill a sense of pride in Ahmed. “I will,” he answered with a determined tone.
“Let us set out and praise the good word of GOD,” she spoke.
And so they did, two souls joined together soon to become four, sixteen, twenty, a hundred, and they would not stop until every soul on board cleansed themselves anew or were cast out into the depths of hell where they belonged.
TRENT
He slammed the shot glass down so ferociously he was surprised when it didn’t break. It did however, catch the ire of many of the patrons. Since the ordeal begun, the bars had become the number one destination of people looking to forget the troubles that slapped them in the face at every corner. Tonight seemed no different. Trent sat as his usual spot, third stool from the window, downing the same drink, tequila, eating the same snacks, pretzels and pistachio’s. He was supposed to be making his rounds but here he was, loaded off his ass. He couldn’t help himself, he never once throughout his life considered himself an alcoholic. Sure, he depended on alcohol to numb the pain from his job but all cops did that, it was a given. No one could go through what he saw day after day and not look to the bottle for comfort.
“Another.” He signaled to the barkeep.
The man filled another shot of tequila sliding it down to Trent’s position.
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�Leave the bottle,” Trent told him.
The bartender looked too afraid to tell him no.
Trent worried for this new world, it’s what drove him to drink harder and stronger than ever before. All it took was one look and a line and the bartender gave up his most prized possession. It won’t be long before others follow suit and it could be way worse than simply being drunk and the only thing stopping them was him, his gun, and his wife. He slugged down another shot.
In his shot free hand, he gripped his iPhone, a picture of Bobbi holding a pumpkin she carved stared back at him. In the corner of the screen, it glared at him, laughed at him, terrified him producing sweat from every gland in his face.
THREE PERCENT BATTERY LEFT.
He was nearing the end of his technological life and he had no idea how he was going to survive. It’d been his life. The sports package on the weekend, any item to purchase one click away, ™Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, porn, it was all gone and he never felt more alone in his life. Lights flickered throughout the room. No one paid it any attention besides Trent. Sweat coursed down his brow. He thumbed at his collar ripping out one of the buttons. He downed another shot. He felt light headed as if all oxygen had been sucked from the room. He glanced around at everyone drinking and socializing wondering why no one seemed to be reacting the way he was.
The walls crept towards him. His hands shook, his foot tapped against the stool echoing a ping throughout the room and then it happened. The loading sphere of his iPhone shutting down played over and over again on his screen, before finally shutting down for the last time. Trent panicked, wide eyed and loopy, fidgeting with the phone trying to turn it back on. The Apple icon appeared for a few measly seconds before turning into the no battery symbol.
“Sir?” a man asked tapping Trent on the shoulder.
The tap was just was he needed to kickstart his mind back into reality. He blinked repeatedly readjusting to his surroundings. “…What—what do you w-want?” Trent stammered.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked pointing to the stool beside him.
Trent waved it off. He scanned the room downing one last shot of booze.
Up and at ‘em boy. Get you some fresh air. It’s gonna be okay.
Trent slid off his seat sidestepping to get his footing. He almost did a header into the table in front of him but caught his balance at the last second. The group at the table watched him curiously, as he stumbled past them. He slid his phone into his back pocket. The feel of it against his cheeks calmed him. The doors opened in front of him and a young boy tip-toed in. Trent knew from the minute he saw him that he was trouble. The boy’s eyes flew a mile a minute over the room, his brown hair hadn’t been tended to in days, blotchy, frayed and greasy. He held one arm behind his back as he approached.
The boat staggered. Trent let himself sway with the ship taking up point near the wall beside the boy. He rested a hand on his gun.
“Excuse me,” the boy softly spoke.
No one paid him any attention.
He revealed the knife he was hiding behind his back. “Listen up!” He roared.
The bar went silent.
He had what he wanted. “I need water.” His eyes were focused squarely on the bar keep.
“Water is council business. They store it up with the food. They simply allow me to dole out the rest of my booze kid. Can’t help you,” the bartender told the boy.
Resting the knife against his ulnar artery, he simply waited.
The barkeep wouldn’t take the bait. “Slashing your wrists ain’t going to change the facts kid.
There’s no water here.”
The kid shrieked at the top of his lungs. It sounded like the ringing one would get after standing to close to the speakers at a concert. The boy darted around the room trying to get away from something Trent could not see. Every wall, every chair, every breath of fresh air made the boy more uneasy.
A few of the guests found this comical but most just looked sorry for the boy.
Trent watched as the kid tripped over his own feet onto a circular table next to him. He rolled off, hyperventilating.
This, more guests found humorous and laughter filled the room.
Trent made a move to help but a young woman at the table he destroyed beat him to the punch. “It’s okay kid,” she said soothingly.
The boy turned the knife towards her backing away. He was shaking uncontrollably. It was a wonder he was able to grip the blade. “You all think this is funny? It won’t be so funny when it happens to you. You haven’t felt it yet because you liquor up your brains. It’s easy for you adults with all your “medicines” to take. Keep you numb, keep you blind, but soon enough you’ll see it. There’s no escape. None. We’re confined here and we’re never getting out. Just to prove it to you, think about this. The Earth is a hundred and ninety seven million square miles with twenty nine percent of that being land. That’s a lot of square feet we get to enjoy. This ship, our home, our only home…is one thousand one hundred and eighty seven feet long. We’re a droplet of rain cascading from the clouds into the Atlantic Ocean. How long until that feels like a closet, huh? How long until you feel the walls closing in on you? Your booze is a temporary fix, your pills are a temporary fix. We are a treasure chest buried in the sand and no one is coming with the key.” He slid the knife up his wrist rupturing his ulnar artery and median nerve. Blood spewed forth draping the white table cloths in crimson.
Trent dashed to the boy’s side grabbing a cloth from a nearby table. He wrapped the fabric around the boy’s wrist tying it tight. The cloth darkened in seconds. There would be no saving the boy.
“It will happen to you! It will eat you alive. It will happen to you. It will eat you alive,” He repeated looking into Trent’s eyes.
He tried to ignore the boy’s prophetic words but they stung at his mind. Too many questions raced through his mind to keep up with. What was the boy looking at? He said the walls, how could he know that’s what I was feeling? Is it really only that many feet long? “You need to save your energy till we get you to the doc,” Trent said but it was too late.
The boy’s eyes ceased their focus, his mouth hung open and his tongue dropped out. The boy was dead.
“Is he—?” a voice began.
“He’s dead.”
Thunder boomed plunging the bar into darkness. Screams echoed through the room both male and female.
He couldn’t see but he could hear chairs being over turned, glasses breaking, tables collapsing. Everyone was freaking out. The darkness encompassed Trent’s soul. He breathed deeply and swiftly.
It will eat you alive.
He pushed the thought away.
“Alright listen up. It’s just a power outage, nothing to be afraid of. Barkeep, you got any candles?”
He could hear the bartender scrummaging around nearby. A moment later a lantern was lit.
“Okay, first things first. You there.” He pointed to a young man with a Polynesian beach theme on his shirt. “Grab some tablecloths and cover up the body. I’m going to go out and check around a bit, make sure no one else is harmed or doing something they’re not supposed to. Black outs are notorious times for looting and the end of the world should make just about anyone feel like doing it but not us, correct?” He waited for a reply. He took their silent gazes as their answers. “When I leave, barricade the door with the tables, and don’t open it for anyone except me. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“What if you don’t come back?” a middle aged woman crowed.
“Then bury me at sea.” He smiled hoping the joke would set them at ease.
No one even cracked a smile.
He smirked as he readied his gun and set out.
Trent turned a corner fighting against the blazing fire. It had encompassed the entire stairwell igniting carpet, walls and threatening to take down the entire ship. A few brave souls poured bucket after bucket of ocean water onto it to combatant it. Trent continued on. They knew what they w
ere doing and after all, he was a policeman not a fireman. The hallway was pitch dark but he still had a little juice left in the flashlight he found outside the bar. He crept the length of the ship to reach the other stairwell. He passed nobody on his journey which should have been a good thing but it felt overwhelmingly awful to him.
What if they’re all dead in their rooms?
The hallway felt like the temple of doom. The walls slowly creeping inwards on each other as he walked. He feared they would smash him into dust if he didn’t pick up the pace, so he ran. He ran like a scared little boy all the while hearing the young lad from the bar dancing around in his head.
It will happen to you. It will eat you alive.
He didn’t stop until he reached the stairs. What he saw there did nothing to assuage his unease. Dead bodies littered the stairs, dozens of sharp, quick cuts lined their bodies. They had been mutilated. He stepped over each one, heading down below. It was silent, painfully so. Trent pulled his gun out holding it in his right hand ready to fire while his left rested right below it shining the light on the area. A scream echoed down the hallway to his right. He set off in search of it. The hallway was in shambles. Blood stained the walls, doors ripped from their axis, carpet torn up. This floor had gotten it the worst. Ahead of him, the screams continued getting louder and louder with each step he took. He approached a room where the door had been severed in two.
Inside, a young woman was held against her will on the couch. Her sundress was torn asunder and a man stood forcing himself inside her. He held his hand against her face smashing it into the fabric of the couch. She cried and pleaded but the man didn’t care. Beside him, his friend was doing the same but he couldn’t make out to who. Whoever it was didn’t utter a sound. He scanned the rest of the room spotting a child on the floor beside the bed.
His lifeless eyes stared back at Trent.
Instinct kicked in and Trent strode into the room. “Hey.”
The man having a go at the screaming woman turned. He was met with a bullet between the eyes. He flew back against the wall painting it red. The other man pulled out his dick turning to see the commotion. It was now that Trent saw who he was raping. It was a young girl, a young lifeless girl. Trent’s anger took over. He dropped his gun pulling out a butcher’s knife from his utility belt. The man had no time to do anything but die. Trent slid the knife under the man’s jaw holding him close as he watched the life leave his eyes.
