by Perrin Briar
Will and Ian nodded, waved to Jack and moved away. Bill took off at a fast walk. Jack ran to catch up.
“What’s going on?” Jack said.
“I’ll explain when we get back to our cabin,” Bill said.
“Why do I have to go back?” Jack said. “What about the others?”
“A friend is looking for Fritz. Your mother is trying to find Ernest.”
“I know where Fritz is,” Jack said.
Bill came to a stop. The look in his eye was frantic and wild.
“Where?” he said.
“I saw him earlier,” Jack said. “He was throwing his guts up on the other side of the boat.”
“Do you remember where exactly?” Bill said.
“I think so. With the state he was in I don’t think he was going to move much.”
Chapter Eighteen
THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE game had changed. Felix went from barely paying attention, moving the pieces with his feet, to sitting hunched over, watching Ernest intently. They each had four melds before them, the others only one apiece. The spectators’ cheering was replaced with rapt fascination.
Ernest reached for a tile. A hush came over the assembled. Ernest smiled and played a pair of red dragon tiles.
“Mahjong,” he said.
Felix blinked, staring at the board as if he hadn’t seen it before. He looked up at Ernest and nodded with respect. The crowd cheered and slapped Ernest on the back. Ernest scooped up the winnings – thirty pesos. He gave it all to Jenny.
“No, no,” she said. “Five pesos are yours. You earned them fair and square.”
“You can keep them,” Ernest said.
“Come on,” she said. “You deserve it for doing so well. Go on, buy yourself something nice.”
Ernest smiled and took the money.
“What made you give me the money in the first place?” he said.
“I’ve seen that look on your face before,” Jenny said.
“What look?”
“The one where you’re concentrating on something so hard that there’s nothing else in the world. You never got a question wrong when you looked like that.”
Felix tapped Ernest on the shoulder and gestured to the Mahjong board.
“Again?” he said, sharing out the tiles.
Ernest shook his head.
“I already did what I set out to do,” he said. “I just wanted to learn how to play.”
Felix frowned and turned to the others. Having seen the skill it took to beat him, the others shook their heads and dispersed.
“Are you glad to be here?” Ernest said, turning back to Jenny.
Jenny shrugged.
“Not really, but I suppose it could be worse,” she said.
“How come you ended up coming?” Ernest said. “Dad never mentioned your family joining us before.”
Jenny shrugged.
“It just sort of happened,” she said. “Dad came home a couple of days ago and said we were going. That was pretty much it. Mum argued but Dad had made up his mind.”
“There you are!” a voice said.
Liz ran to Ernest, dragging an exhausted Francis behind her.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she said.
“I’ve just been playing Mahjong,” Ernest said. “Is it ten already?”
“No, but you have to come with me now,” Liz said. “Have you seen either of your brothers?”
“I saw Fritz about an hour ago,” Ernest said.
“Do you know where he is now?” Liz said.
“No,” Ernest said. “He looked fairly irate when I last saw him.”
“Jenny,” Liz said. “You need to return to your parents’ cabin now. Don’t get distracted, just head there now, okay?”
“Okay,” Jenny said.
Liz took Ernest’s hand and led him away. Jenny watched them. Her small form disappeared around the corner. Ernest pulled back against Liz’s vice-like grip.
“Mum, stop!” Ernest said. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we get back to our cabin,” she said.
“I can’t,” Francis said, panting for air. “I can’t.”
Liz slowed down to a fast walk, but they pressed on.
They stopped outside their cabin door. Liz approached it and pushed it open, standing back as she did so. A piece of paper flapped in front of her. She snapped it down. She pushed the door open again and this time stepped inside. She peered around the room and then gestured for the boys to follow her in. Francis collapsed on the double bed.
“Mum, what in God’s name is going on?” Ernest said.
“Ernest, sit down,” Liz said. “I have something to tell you.”
Chapter Nineteen
I MUST BE EMPTY BY now, Fritz thought as he leaned his cheek against the railing and let out a deep sigh. He was exhausted to his bones. His stomach cramped again, forcing another dry heave from his body. Fritz let the spittle hang from his bottom lip. He opened his eyes to slits.
He was peering into the shadows of a block of cabins where the moonlight could not pierce.
Something there in the shadows moved.
Fritz peered closer and made out a figure that shuffled to the edge of the shadows. The figure fell against the railing but didn’t put his hand out to steady himself. It struck Fritz as very unnatural, unless the figure was inebriated.
“Not another one,” Fritz grumbled under his breath. Then, louder to the man he said: “Had a lot to drink?”
The figure turned in a slow circle toward Fritz. His features were lost to the darkness.
“Or maybe you get seasick too?” Fritz said. “Horrible, isn’t it? Can you believe I didn’t even know I got seasick before coming on here?”
A groan, resonant and drawn-out, escaped the man’s lips.
“You sound like you’ve got it even worse than me,” Fritz said. “Are you going to be all right?”
Slow shuffling feet emerged from the shadows. The gold chain at his neck caught the moonlight and glinted. His jeans were torn at the knees. He leaned over to one side, almost pitching over the side.
“You ought to be careful,” Fritz said. “One false move and you’re a goner.”
The figure looked up. The hair on the back of Fritz’s neck stood up on end. The man’s skin was pale, paler than any man Fritz had seen before, his eyes bloodshot and angry. He stumbled forward, picking up speed, his feet barely catching himself before falling flat on his face.
“Easy there, fella,” Fritz said, raising his hands.
The man’s mouth stretched wide open and, tinted with moonlight, became a figure from nightmares. Fritz froze, his face a mask of horror as he realised the man wasn’t going to stop.
The man raised his arms and opened his mouth, drool seeping from his lips, and fell on top of Fritz, knocking him to the ground. A strong tangy iron stench filled Fritz’s senses, and he instinctively knew it was blood. The man’s shoulder was soaked with it, shining and glittering in the silver light.
Fritz raised his arms and held them up, jammed underneath the man’s chin. The man pressed his weight down on Fritz, his teeth clacking together as he snapped at Fritz’s face.
His eyes were dead, black, like a feral animal. Fritz turned his head to the side, roared, and pushed the man aside, a sharp crack as the man’s head met a metal railing.
Fritz rolled to his feet, stumbling to one side, his stomach protesting. He dry-heaved again, taking his eyes from the man, gathering himself.
The man got to his knees, and then his feet, struggling as if it needed to be done in choreographed stages.
“Dude,” Fritz said. “You need to calm down.”
The man rose up to his full height.
Fritz froze. His mouth fell open.
The side of the man’s head was smashed in, a large fragment of bone hanging by a thin flap of skin from where he’d smacked it on the railing.
“I think you need to sit down,” Fritz said.
The man took a step forward and a chunk of his head slipped free and struck the deck with a splat.
“That’s not right,” Fritz said, unable to tear his eyes away from the red mass. “That ain’t normal.”
The man lurched forward, arms outstretched. Frozen with fear, Fritz couldn’t move. He covered his face with his arms like a child.
There was a roar to Fritz’s right, and a figure hurled itself at the man, lifting him up off his feet and driving him over the railing. Bill stood watching the roiling sea below long after there was a splash.
“You killed him!” Fritz said.
“Zack was long dead before I got to him,” Bill said.
“Zack?” Fritz said.
“That was his name,” Bill said.
Fritz shook his head in an effort to process the information.
“Wait,” he said. “What do you mean ‘long dead’?”
“What you saw wasn’t a man,” Bill said. “Only his corpse.”
“That’s not possible,” Fritz said.
He gaped after his father. He turned and threw up over the side, this time having nothing to do with the motions of the sea. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“But why...” he said. “How...?”
“We haven’t got time for this,” Bill said, taking Fritz by the hand. “I’ll explain everything to you on the way back to our cabin.”
Fritz allowed himself to be dragged away, still in a state of shock. Jack waited behind the corner. By his expression Fritz guessed he had seen the whole thing. They wound their way through the narrow corridors and crevices.
Suddenly Bill skidded to a halt. Jack and Fritz almost ran into him.
“Wait,” Bill said.
“This is the fastest way,” Jack said, taking a step forward.
“We can’t go that way,” Bill said.
“Why not?” Jack said.
“Listen,” Bill said.
The sound was subtle. It could have been the wind howling through the rigging, except there was no rigging. It began in the distance and then grew into an echoing grunting cacophony. It chilled them to the bone to hear it.
“There are more of them?” Fritz said, voice shaking.
“A lot more, by the sound of it,” Bill said.
“Where are they coming from?” Fritz said.
Bill turned quiet and peered into the dark shadows, letting his imagination place the sounds.
“Oh God...” he said.
“What?” Fritz said. “What is it?”
“I know where they’re coming from,” Bill said. “We have to get out of here.”
“Why?” Fritz said. “Where are they coming from?”
“The mess,” Bill said. “They’re coming from the mess.”
Chapter Twenty
LIZ HUGGED FRITZ AND Jack tight the moment they entered the cabin. Bill locked the door and kept a close eye on the window.
“We can’t stay here,” Bill said. “Pack a few things. Food, water.”
“What’s happened?” Liz said.
“They’re out there,” Bill said.
“How many?” Liz said.
“Does it matter? We have to get off this boat. Now.”
Fritz, Ernest and Jack grabbed their backpacks and upended them, spilling the contents onto the double bed. They packed what food they had.
“How can there be so many of them?” Liz said. “I thought there were only a couple.”
“We were wrong,” Bill said. “There are more. Lots more.”
“Where’s Zack?” Liz said.
She recognised the lost broken look on Bill’s face – he always wore it whenever he lost a patient and felt like he could have done more to save them.
“Oh, Bill,” Liz said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Bill said.
“We have to warn the others,” Liz said. “They still might be able to escape.”
“I don’t know if there are any others left,” Bill said.
“Surely things haven’t gotten that bad?” Liz said.
“It is that bad,” Bill said. “On our way back here we heard voices. They were coming from the mess. If even just one of those things got in, there would have been blind panic. A dozen people would have gotten bitten, more. And they would have bitten another dozen, and another. They’re stupid creatures, but even the dumbest animals know to head to the watering hole to feed. That’s what Gloria was doing when we found her.”
Bill let out a deep breath.
“Look, you’re right, there might be other passengers,” he said. “But they’ll know about their predicament soon enough – if they don’t already. We have to worry about ourselves.”
“We’re packed,” Ernest said, zipping up the last backpack.
Each family member – except Francis – took a bag and put it on. Bill addressed his family with dark, solemn eyes.
“You’re going to see some horrible things tonight,” he said. “I wish you didn’t have to, but there’s nothing I can do about that. The things that are out there are no longer human, no matter what they might look like. Any humanity they once had is long gone. They are wild, vicious animals. Treat them as such. You just have to remember one thing: keep moving. We’re going to head for the lifeboats first. We’ll push whatever boat we find over the side and jump overboard. Understand?”
The Flowers nodded.
“Fritz,” Bill said. “You take care of-”
But Fritz was as white as a sheet. His hands shook like an old man’s.
“Ernest,” Bill said. “You take care of Fritz. Liz, you take Ernest. I’ll take Jack.”
Bill reached for the door handle, but paused before turning. He looked at each member of his family in turn.
“A father couldn’t be more proud of you all,” he said with a tight smile. “If we stick together we’ll be fine.”
He opened the door and stepped outside. The moment he did his eyes and throat stung, and he felt something thick scratching at his tonsils. The world had been consumed by a dirty brown fog.
Chapter Twenty-One
BILL COUGHED AND COVERED his mouth. His field of view was limited to ten feet in every direction. His eyes watered.
“Cover your mouths,” Bill said.
A bright yellow-orange glow of light illuminated the smoke cloud and cast giant shadows like holograms. The figures ambled forward. They were leading straight for them.
Bill led the others to a narrow crevice between two cabin squares. It was cramped and narrow. He pressed Jack into it first, followed by Francis, Ernest, Fritz and Liz. Bill edged into the gap last, the narrow cramped space squashing his back and ribcage, forcing him to breathe only shallow breaths.
They waited. The
heat from the fire sent the temperature soaring, turning the narrow corridor into an oven.
“Bill, we can’t stay here,” Liz said.
Sweat dimpled her forehead.
“Sh!” Bill said.
They waited a few minutes more, what felt like agonising hours. Beads of sweat rolled down Bill’s face. Just when Liz opened her mouth to voice her concerns again, she heard a snapping, popping sound, followed immediately by the smell of burning bacon.
A figure dragged his leg behind him, leaving a thick black mark along the deck. Bill recognised him as the barman from the mess. His eyes were bloody and red, lacking any expression or hint of humanity. Then came another figure, this one smaller and thinner. The skin on his face bubbled and popped, his hair smelled like burning hay.
Once they had passed, Bill poked his head out. He waved his hand for his family to follow him onto the deck. They crept along it. Fritz slipped on the barman’s bloody trail, but Ernest was there to catch him.
They came to the stern, where just an hour earlier Ernest was happily winning his first game of Mahjong. Bill held up his hand to keep his family back. The smoke was darker and thicker here. Bill put his head around the final set of cabins and immediately leapt back. He rubbed his face.
“Bill?” Liz said. “Bill? Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” Bill said. “I got hit by a blast of heat, that’s all.”
Bill moved away from the cabin structure to the railing to keep as far from the heat of the fire as possible. He moved to a pile of smashed kindle that lay in heaps on the deck. It was shaped with the smooth curves of the hull of a small boat.
Bill seized one, and with Ernest’s help dragged it out. The scraping sound seemed loud in the night air. It left a black mark on the deck from where the bottom had burned out.
“Great,” Bill said. “Our one chance of getting out of here, up in smoke.”
“There must be another way,” Liz said.
“There are no lifeboats left,” Bill said. “We don’t exactly have time to build one.”
“We could toss some driftwood into the sea,” Liz said, “use it to float to the nearest land.”
“Which is where?” Bill said.
“We’ll stop off at the wheelhouse and get some maps first,” Liz said.
“We could end up lost at sea,” Bill said.
“Better than being on a burning ship full of the walking dead,” Liz said. “What other choice do we have?”
Bill nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “You and the boys tear up some of this decking, if you can. I’ll go get the maps.”
Buhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhht
The family spun around. A large bulbous silhouette with his head cocked unnaturally to one side glared down at them with unblinking red eyes. The huge lumbering figure emerged out of the smoke. His thin hair on his head was dyed red with blood. Something thick and black ran down his neck like he had a mane.
“Dennis...” Bill said.
Dennis glared at him, his eyes bloodshot and distant.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Bill said.
Liz gathered the boys around her.
“We have to go, Bill,” Liz said.
“We can’t just leave Dennis like this,” Bill said.
“We can’t help him now, Bill,” Liz said. “He’s one of them.”
