Reborn

by Kate Danley

  Tanis didn’t know much about boats, but she thought the craft bobbing about at the end of the dock looked a lot like the SS Minnow from Gilligan’s Island. As she recalled, that three-hour cruise hadn’t ended well.

  They sat in a rental SUV, motor idling. Matt was at the wheel, Carrie rode shotgun, and in the back were Lowell and Wilson with Dr. Dorcott stuck between them like a perp in the rear seat of a patrol car. Tanis sat in the way back, like an unwanted child. The three suitcases full of explosives were nestled in the back.

  “Shouldn’t we get a bigger boat?” Tanis asked.

  The remark was greeted by stony silence. Really, Tanis thought. Nobody in the car has seen Jaws?

  “Wilson,” Matt said. “Go charter that boat. If Quint hasn’t gotten to it first.” Tanis admired Matt’s deadpan delivery. She was surprised to see he had a sense of humor behind that steely glare.

  Wilson got out of the car. Dr. Dorcott stretched out, taking advantage of the extra room.

  “I have to pee,” the doctor said.

  “Hold it,” Matt said.

  Tanis didn’t look at her. The first time she’d seen Dr. Dorcott, the good doctor was in the middle of flaying Amelia Mendelsohn’s flesh from her right arm. Tanis couldn’t look at the doctor without wanting to strike her hard with her hammer.

  “Why did we take her with us?” Tanis asked Matt.

  Matt didn’t answer.

  “What else could he do?” the doctor said. “Jake has his hands full with the Mendelsohns. It’s either take me with you or kill me. Isn’t that right, Matt?”

  “I’m still considering it,” Matt said.

  “But I know about Moses Lake,” Dr. Dorcott went on. “You can’t ever let me go. So what’s the plan, Matt?”

  “Lowell, take Dr. Dorcott out and let her pee,” Matt said.

  “You’re going to take me out to that boat and let the Byzantines do your dirty work. Isn’t that right, Matt?”

  Matt fixed his eyes on her through the rearview mirror but didn’t say a word.

  “But there’s one thing you failed to consider,” Dr. Dorcott went on. “What if I’m one of the Descendants?”

  Tanis didn’t know what a Descendant was. She looked at Matt, certain that he didn’t know, either.

  Matt shrugged. “Then we’ll throw you overboard,” he said. “You can pee in the water.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Puget Sound

  The Demeter rode up each wave, crashed down with a bone-crushing thud, then rode up over the next with stomach-churning monotony. Tanis held on to the rail, not sure whether keeping her eyes open or closed would be the best way to stave off vomiting.

  “I’m afraid the whale watching is a bit off right now,” the Skipper said. “Just two days ago we had dozens of sightings, but now…It’s like something has spooked them.”

  Tanis hadn’t caught the Skipper’s name. She only thought of him as the “Skipper” because he was middle-aged, burly, and captain of a ship she could only think of as doomed. The “crew” consisted of one tired-looking East Indian young man who looked nothing like Gilligan.

  Matt shrugged. He and Carrie stood next to the Skipper at the wheel, spray in their faces, looking like they loved the rollicking roil of the boat’s progress.

  “That’s all right,” Carrie said. “We just love being on the water.”

  Tanis choked back some bile in the back of her throat and looked over at Lowell and Dr. Dorcott sitting in the back of the boat like a couple on the verge of the worst divorce ever. They hardly looked like they loved being on the water—or anywhere at all in each other’s presence.

  Wilson sat on the floor of the boat, next to the suitcases, his baseball cap down over his eyes, looking for all the world like a sick puppy, waiting for the trip to end.

  “So where do you want to go? It’s your dime,” the Skipper said.

  “Out to sea. There.” Carrie pointed on the map to the San Juan Islands up above the Canadian border.

  “That’s quite a ways,” the Skipper said. “We’re not a cruise ship.”

  “Well, we can just head on out that way,” Matt said. “And we’ll see what we see.”

  “You’re the bosses,” the Skipper said. “But I’m the captain. Don’t you forget that.”

  Tanis settled in the back of the boat with Wilson, who looked up at her from under the bill of his cap.

  “You’re pretty good with your hammer, young lady,” he said.

  “Thanks. You’re pretty good with your…dog.”

  “My dog and I have been through some rough times.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have been able to…turn into a dog?”

  He tilted his head. “Well, now, that’s an interesting question. You assume I’m a man who can turn into a dog. How do you know I’m not a dog who can turn into a man?”

  Tanis didn’t know how to reply to that.

  # # #

  They saw it just as they were entering Admiralty Inlet. The Skipper blinked as the thing hove into view, filling the inlet, blocking their way.

  A massive ship.

  “What the hell is that?” the Skipper said.

  The huge wooden craft towered above a smaller vessel, which appeared to be towing it. Tanis had been expecting it, but it still took her breath away.

  It was an old Greek galley, but impossibly large, curved from prow to stern, oars sticking out, unmoving but all intact, like a dead centipede’s legs.

  “What the hell is that?” the Skipper repeated.

  “Let’s get a closer look,” Carrie said.

  There were no brakes on a boat, no way to stop it dead in its tracks, but the Skipper did the next best thing, shifting into neutral and spinning the wheel to the side.

  “What are you doing?” asked Matt.

  “We’re getting the hell away from that thing,” the Skipper said.

  “No, we’re not,” Matt said. Carrie tossed Matt his duffel and he pulled out his ax.

  “What are you doing?” asked the Skipper, incredulous.

  “Turn the boat around, Captain,” Carrie said.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Do you see that ship? I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

  “Turn the boat around,” Matt said.

  “Or you’ll what? You’ll hit me with that ax?”

  “No, I’ll hit you with this hammer,” Tanis said, standing behind the Skipper, hammer at the ready.

  The Skipper was flabbergasted. “Are you people crazy?”

  “Turn the boat around,” Matt repeated.

  “Fuck you!” the Skipper said. “Amir!”

  The lazy East Indian was suddenly standing behind them, not lazy at all, with a shotgun in his hand. The Skipper reached into the map cabinet, pulled out a pistol, and leveled it at Matt.

  “Now,” the Skipper said, “put down that fucking ax and that fucking hammer.”

  Tanis hesitated. Carrie hesitated.

  “I’ll turn this boat around myself,” Matt said, stepping for the wheel.

  In the back of the boat, Lowell let go of Dr. Dorcott and dived for Amir. As Lowell grabbed him, Amir let blast with both barrels of the shotgun straight at Matt.

  Matt fell to the deck bleeding.

  Tanis sent the hammer crashing down on the Skipper’s gun hand just as Carrie leapt for him.

  As Amir struggled with Lowell, fighting for the shotgun, Lowell’s hands started to heat up, turning red, burning Amir’s flesh. Coming up from below, Wilson clocked Amir on the jaw. Lowell pried the shotgun away from Amir’s hands and threw it overboard with a splash.

  Carrie had the Skipper down on his knees in a half nelson. He looked up to see Wilson, Lowell, and Tanis coming at him, ready to do battle.

  “What the hell is this?” the Skipper asked.

  “A mutiny,” said Lowell.

  Tanis hurried to Matt, who was struggling to get up, his left arm bloody and peppered with shotgu
n slugs. Lowell had deflected Amir’s aim, but the blast had still done some damage.

  “Are you all right?” Tanis asked.

  “I’ve been better,” Matt said weakly.

  “Oh, you’ll heal,” Wilson said. “You should see him heal, Tanis. He heals like nobody’s business!”

  “I’m not fucking Wolverine,” Matt said. “It still hurts.”

  Amir groaned from the deck, the burns on his arms blistering. They ignored him.

  “Does anybody know how to drive a boat?” Matt asked.

  “I used to do some fishing on the Hudson,” Carrie said, still holding on to the Skipper. “I think I can handle it. But what do we do with these two?”

  “Throw them overboard,” Matt said.

  Lowell grabbed the Skipper and dragged him to the rail. Wilson seized Amir, pulled him up, and got ready to toss him over.

  “Matt,” Tanis said, “you can’t do that. They’ll drown.”

  “We don’t have time for anything else,” Matt said.

  Dr. Dorcott spoke up, sitting in the back of the boat. “You’re right, Matt. It’s the expedient thing to do. But why don’t you tie their arms and legs together while you’re at it? They’ll sink more quickly that way.”

  Matt’s face flushed with anger. He picked the Skipper’s gun up from the deck and walked over to Dorcott.

  “I ought to just put a bullet in your head and throw you over with them,” he said.

  Dr. Dorcott looked up at the barrel of the pistol. “Let me get this straight. When I kill, it’s to increase human knowledge. When you kill, it’s because it’s convenient. But I’m the monster and you’re the hero?”

  Matt flipped the gun around and cracked her across the face with it.

  “At least put them in the dinghy,” Tanis said. “Set them adrift. They don’t know what’s going on. To them, we’re the bad guys.”

  “You heard her,” Matt said to Lowell. “Put them in the goddamned dinghy.”

  The freaks hoisted the dinghy overboard, dropped the two men in it, and cut the line. The procedure took time, and by the end of it, the Demeter had drifted away from the Byzantine ship. Distance made its size all the more unbelievable.

  “Carrie, catch up with it,” Matt said.

  Carrie gunned the motor, and the boat started its jerky, slamming ride to the massive ship. Tanis clutched the rail to keep her footing. At least the shock of the fight had settled her stomach for the time being.

  Matt stepped up to the rail next to her, looking out at the choppy sea, clutching his wounded arm. “You think I was being too harsh back there.”

  “You were planning to drown two innocent sailors. I don’t think harsh covers it.”

  “I didn’t do it, though.”

  “No. But you considered it.”

  “I have to consider everything. It’s the only way.”

  “My brother said something like that. Right after he killed my mother.”

  Matt looked out at the Byzantine ship as they approached it. “I’ve known other people like me. People who died and came back. Two of them became crazed killers. One of them just retreated from the fight and became a hermit. I’m the only one who’s kept fighting the evil.”

  “What about me?”

  “Too early to say. But if I turn, if I think the fight starts to justify my own evil actions, I want you to do something for me. Can you promise me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wilson made me swear to put his dog down if he started to like killing too much. Would you do the same for me?”

  “Kill you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can I? You’re already dead.”

  Matt looked at her. “You’ll figure out a way.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Admiralty Inlet

  The Demeter cruised alongside the smaller vessel that towed the ancient ship. A smaller vessel, but still quite a bit larger than the tiny Demeter. Tanis could see no sign of life on board the boat.

  “What do we do now?” Tanis asked.

  “You hail her. Say we’ve broken down and need help,” Matt said. His left arm was bandaged and bloody.

  “How do I do that?” she asked.

  “Shout.”

  “Why me?”

  “You have the loudest voice,” Dr. Dorcott said. She was tied up with fishing wire and lashed to the cleat at the back of the boat. Carrie gave her kick to shut her up.

  “What do I say?” Tanis asked.

  There was a muttered discussion among the freaks, and finally they settled on Mayday or SOS. Tanis decided Mayday was easier to shout.

  So she called out, “Mayday,” and yelled that their motor had broken down and that they needed help.

  No answer. Nothing stirred on the other boat.

  “Do you think they heard me?” she asked.

  “I don’t think there’s anyone to hear,” said Matt.

  Just to be sure, they set off a flare. It shot off in a broad arc through the sky and disappeared with a faint hiss into the water.

  No response from the other boat.

  “Pull up alongside it, Carrie,” Matt said. “We’re going to board her.”

  # # #

  Tanis climbed from boat to boat, losing her footing once, her legs dangling over the open sea for a moment before Matt grabbed her by the arm with his good hand and pulled her the rest of the way up. She went sprawling onto the wet deck, bruising her knees as she fell. Reaching for something to steady herself, she realized she had grabbed Matt’s leg. She snatched her hand away quickly.

  Carrie offered her a hand and helped her to her feet.

  “It’s a nice leg, isn’t it?” Carrie said dryly.

  “Don’t worry, Carrie. I know he’s yours.”

  “He isn’t anybody’s,” she said and walked off to join the others.

  There was no crew on the deck. They went below and searched all the cabins. No one there. But the engine still hummed and the boat still plowed through the water, heading inexorably towards Seattle.

  “It’s a ghost ship,” said Wilson as they gathered in the bow of the boat. “It’s still pulling that big-ass thing to Seattle, but they’re ain’t nobody on it. It’s a goddamned ghost ship.”

  “Stop saying that,” Matt said.

  “Well, where did they go?” asked Tanis.

  “Over there,” said Lowell, looking at the Byzantine ship, attached by towlines, looming behind them like a haunted house afloat.

  “Do we go on board that?” Tanis asked.

  “No. If we set foot on that ship, we’re never getting off. We just have to stop it from reaching landfall. We have to scuttle this ship. Lowell, how much of the explosives do we use?”

  Lowell shrugged. “I just stole them. I don’t know how to work them.”

  “Fine. The rest of you get back to the Demeter. I’ll plant a whole bunch of bombs and then we’ll get the hell out of here before they blow.”

  Back on the Demeter, Tanis helped unpack the explosives from the suitcase. Innocuous-looking cardboard tubes wrapped in oily paper with a clunky timing device and a digital display board, the explosives looked like the came straight out of the 1980s.

  “Where did you steal these from, the set of Die Hard?” Carrie asked Lowell.

  “They may be old, but they’ll work,” Lowell said. Then he added, under his breath, “I hope.”

  They formed a bucket brigade to bring the explosives across to the other boat. Tanis was last in line and reached over, across the open sea, to hand the oily sticks to Matt, who placed them gently on the deck of the science vessel. Just as she passed the final explosive to Matt, she jumped over and landed, square on her feet this time, on board the doomed ship.

  Matt glared at her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m helping you,” Tanis declared.

  Matt shrugged and started gathering the explosives into his arms. “Come on,” he said.

  # # #

  The rumble of the en
gine was deafening belowdecks. Tanis looked at the controls on the dashboard—there were a lot of them, she didn’t know what they did, and none of them was labeled “off.” Turning each of them one way, then the other, she heard the engine make a lot of angry sounds, but it didn’t turn off. If Wilson had been there, he would have said it was possessed and couldn’t be stopped.

  “Do you think that’s enough?” Matt asked. He stood by a jumbled heap of explosives, like a pile of pickup sticks that rose almost to his knees.

  “Do you want to put this thing in orbit?”

  “I want to blow it out of the water.”

  “Then that’s enough.”

  Matt turned on the timing device.

  “How much time are you going to give us to get out of here?” she asked.

  “Fifteen minutes should be enough.”

  He said that, but the timer started counting down at six minutes.

  Tanis swallowed nervously. “Can’t you reset that?”

  “It would take five minutes to figure out how.”

  They started to run.

  They had almost made it to the ladder when a figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking their way. A man, his arm half-devoured and dangling by a thread, his eyes shining with a deathly yellow glow.

  “I’m Captain Marcos,” he said. “What are you doing on board my ship?”

  Matt tried to step around him, but Marcos used his good arm to strike at Matt, driving him back against the bulkhead. With only one good arm apiece, the men were evenly matched, and Matt had left his ax back on the Demeter. Tanis drew her hammer from the loop of her painter’s pants and moved in.

  “Captain,” she said, “we’ve planted a bomb on the ship. It’s going off in six minutes. Make that five minutes. If you want to live, you’ll dive in the water and swim for it.”

  Captain Marcos turned his glowing eyes on her. “What makes you think I want to live?”

  She raised her hammer. “Let us go.”

  “No. You stay on board. We belong dead. I’ve seen what’s coming. We’re better off.”

  Tanis remembered her brother’s words back in Dallas. I saw what is going to happen. She lashed out, swinging the hammer at the captain’s head. He deflected the blow with a belaying pin and hooked the hammer by the claw, pulling it out of Tanis’ hand and flinging it away.