“I’m trying,” he screamed at her, fury in his eyes.
“That’s it. Use that anger.”
The water was inching up the elevator wall again, covering his chin. He sucked in a huge breath. Water covered his nose. His eyes. His forehead.
He was completely submerged. His head thrashed. Bubbles swirled around him.
Her heart slammed in her chest as she crawled into the water beside him. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
Madeline put her hands on the elevator doors and put her foot up on the lip of the wall. Using every ounce of her strength, she tried to pull them apart.
Tears streamed down her face. A sob burst from her throat.
His hand reached up and she clutched it. Leaning forward, she kissed his hand. “Come on, Sterling. You can do this.”
The water was still rising.
He yanked his hand from her grasp and splashed her with his thrashing.
“No!” she screamed at the heavens.
Suddenly there was an eruption of water and Sterling appeared, gasping for air.
She dove forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh my God, I thought you were gone.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Me too.” He was coughing and choking, but also laughing at the same time. “Shit, that was close.”
They held each other until her heartbeat and his breathing returned to normal. When they pulled back, he looked into her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You didn’t leave me.”
She shook her head. “I’d never do that. I know what it feels like.”
He reached up and touched his palm to her cheek, and although he didn’t ask her to elaborate, she had a strange feeling he already knew.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Captain?”
Gunner heard the distant voice but couldn’t find its origin. His mind was scrambled with pictures of bloodied bodies and calls of people reaching out to him, begging for help.
“Captain.” A hand touched his shoulder, and he snapped his eyes open. Jolting upright, he knocked something over and it fell to the floor with a thud. He blinked at his surroundings, trying to piece them together.
“Captain. Sir?”
He was in the bridge, seated in front of the blank consoles. Turning, he looked up at the woman. “Jae-Ellen?”
“Sir. You fell asleep, sir.” She picked up the binoculars he’d knocked over and placed them beside him.
His eyes were like sandpaper as he tried to blink them awake. Last thing he remembered was returning to the bridge to see if First Officer Sykes was okay after that wave. He had been, but only just. Sykes had seen the wave coming, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. So, he’d hidden in the men’s room and prayed that the last moments of his life weren’t going to be spent looking at the back of a bathroom door.
He’d still looked terrified when Gunner had found him several hours after the wave. The bridge had been a mess. Several windshields had shattered into a million glass shards that littered every surface. Nearly all the chairs were gone and a whole row of computer monitors had been ripped from their footings, never to be seen again.
Captain Nelson’s body was gone too.
Gunner reached for the binoculars. “What time is it, Jae-Ellen?”
“It’s sunrise, sir.”
Gunner grunted. Sykes’ watch, which had been a gift from his grandfather, had been shattered and was now missing both hands. Their only time device now was the sun.
Gunner stood and groaned. Nearly every muscle in his body protested against the movement. Using the binoculars, he scanned the horizon. The rays of sunshine bursting up from the ocean were a minor relief after their night in forced darkness. It must be about 06:00 hours.
His first goal had been making it through the night. Thanks to a miracle, he’d done that. Many had not been so lucky. After confirming there was nothing out on the ocean other than mild waves and a lone albatross, he put the binoculars down and turned to Jae-Ellen. “Is everything okay?”
“Is that a trick question?” She cocked her head. Her right eye was severely bloodshot, and the swollen bruise surrounding it was a hideous purple. If she’d hit her head a fraction to the left, she could’ve had permanent eye damage.
He squeezed his temples. “Sorry. Stupid question. Are you okay?”
“Yes. And no.”
He knew exactly what she meant.
He reached for the binoculars again and scanned the ocean. But what was the point? If he did see another boat, he had no way to communicate with those onboard. And worse still, pirates could come storming at them right now, and there’d be absolutely nothing he could do about it. Then again, if there was a boat out there, pirate or otherwise, chances were they too were in just as much trouble as Rose of the Sea.
His insides twisted with angst and hunger pains, and a full bladder.
“Sir. I want to thank you for saving my life.” A tear teetered on Jae-Ellen’s lower eyelashes.
He shook his head. “There’s no—”
“Sir,” she interrupted. “What you did to save Pauline and I was the most selfless act I’ve ever seen. We would’ve been washed out to sea if it wasn’t for you.”
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I was lucky.”
“No, sir. You were thinking. We were lucky.” She flicked a tear away and sucked her lip into her mouth as if trying to stop it from quivering.
A groan tumbled from his throat and he shook his head. “I should’ve seen the signs. That storm—”
“Don’t do that to yourself. The situation was crazy. You saved as many as you could.”
“We shouldn’t have been on that deck.”
“We had no choice. Without lighting, it was our only option.”
He glanced at the remaining computer screens that were all blank and then back at Jae-Ellen. “Nothing’s changed?”
She lowered her eyes and groaned. “It’s worse.”
He squeezed his temples but it didn’t alleviate the pressure pulsing behind his eyes. Giving up, he lowered his hands and nodded toward the bathroom. “Okay, give me a minute, then walk with me.”
“That’s the ‘worse’ I was talking about, sir. The sewerage has backed up.”
He groaned. Moving sewage around a ship required water and power. They had neither. “It’s going to be an interesting day.” Deciding he had no choice, he crunched across shattered glass as he strode toward the men’s room. “Wait here.”
Thankfully, his restroom was clean and tidy. He could only imagine what was happening at the other end of the ship. Raw sewage created disease. His heart clenched. So did dead bodies. There was so much to think about his brain already hurt.
Without the ability to flush, he simply closed the lid and strode to the sink. The mirror replicated how he felt—shattered. At best guess, he’d had two hours of sleep. He was hungry and thirsty. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. Hundreds of passengers were relying on him to know what to do. But images of the deck before and after that wave hit flashed through his mind.
Hundreds of scared people, scrambling to get off the deck.
Just a handful of bloodied and battered bodies.
So many dead already, and it’d only been about twelve hours since the first EMP.
How many more deaths would today bring?
That pressure was like a ten-ton weight, crushing the life out of him. Although he’d been striving toward a Captain’s role for years, he’d never truly appreciated the responsibility that position held.
Until now.
Did anyone in charge of passengers fully understand the true meaning of it? Pilots? Train drivers? Bus drivers? Every person onboard a vessel expected the respective authority to know what to do in an emergency. But it was a skill that was never truly tested until it was too late.
He turned on the tap to wash his hands and face but after an initial splutter, it stopped. Clenching his teeth
, he shook his head at his own stupidity.
Sanitation was about to become a huge issue. A Petri dish of diseases could spread through the remaining passengers like wildfire. He rubbed soap into the small ration of water on his hands and wiped it off with a paper towel.
He pushed back through the door to the bridge and caught Jae-Ellen yawning. “Have you had any sleep?”
She shook her head.
It was a miracle she was even standing. “Walk with me to the other end. Then go rest.”
“But, sir—”
“That’s an order.”
“Sir.” She bowed her head. “Thank you, sir.”
He turned and crunched across the glass to the exit, and Jae-Ellen fell in beside him. “Talk to me.”
“Most of the passengers are still in Petals. That’s where the bulk of them slept. We have no power. No water. The toilets aren’t working. During the early hours, some people tried to fight their way into the kitchen to raid the food we hadn’t yet moved to the gym. We’ve managed to hold them off for now, but once everyone is awake, I’m not sure how long we can last. We are well and truly outnumbered.”
“How many crew do we have?”
She looked up at him, and the anguish in her eyes cut a swathe through his heart. “Only thirty-seven have stepped forward, sir.”
“Thirty-seven!” He did the math. Ten percent. “Where . . . what’s happened?” His brain couldn’t formulate the right question.
“Cloe and I have been discussing it. Many were lost in the plane crash, including the entire engine room crew. Many also were swept overboard in the storm. Those on the top deck who were helping to corral passengers were all lost. A lot of the service crew simply don’t want to step forward. Most of them don’t speak very good English and won’t take on responsibility.” She sighed. “That leaves thirty-seven.”
He ran his hands down his face, feeling the sharpness of his stubble. “Best guess on how many passengers are in the restaurant?”
She swallowed so loud he heard it. “Best guess . . . two hundred and twenty or so.”
Gasping, he shunted to a stop. “No!” He blinked at her. “That can’t be true. Nine hundred missing?”
She lowered her eyes. “Missing or dead.”
His eyes drifted to the calm ocean. It was a stunning day. Crystal-clear sky. Vivid white altocumulus clouds that looked like floating marshmallows. Breeze, so subtle it barely registered. The setting was as peaceful as a sleeping baby.
It did little to improve his mood.
The rogue wave that hit them had only been about forty feet high. It should never have had such decimating affects to the seventy-thousand-ton Rose of the Sea. But at the time when the wave hit, the ship had been facing broadside. She’d been low in the trough and had had zero propulsion.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and a tsunami of sickening emotions blazed through him. Grief. Inadequacy. Disbelief. At the very top was anger. How could this happen?
He snapped his eyes open. It wasn’t time for reflection. It was time for action. “Right then. We need to make sure every single passenger that’s still alive remains that way.”
She did a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Has anyone done a search of the cabins?”
“No. We needed daylight for that. Also, without power, we can’t open the doors.”
“Jesus. Of course.” He clamped his jaw shut at his foolishness. “Have we given out any more food or water since last night?”
“Not yet. I’m sorry, but without light, it was all impossible.”
“No need to be sorry. I’m grappling with what needs to be done myself.”
“May I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“You’ll need to make a decision on what to do with the deceased.”
His gut twisted. It was another aspect he hadn’t even considered.
“Not just because it’s deadly, but it’s also not good for everyone’s spirits. In this heat, the bodies are starting to smell, and we have the deceased in the same room as the survivors.”
“I agree. How is Doctor Merkley going with the number of injuries?”
When she didn’t respond, he glanced her way and noted twisted confusion in her expression. “I . . . I haven’t seen him.”
Oh shit! The doctor’s still missing. “What? Not at all?”
“No. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Miguel or Hastings either. Remember, you sent them both to find the doc when the Captain had his heart attack? I haven’t seen Reynolds, either, for that matter; he went to get the chief engineer.”
“Christ!” His shoulders sagged with a new layer of burden. Had he sent them to their deaths? “I’ll head to the medical clinic as soon as I can.”
They went up the internal stairs to the pool deck. He paused at the fitness center to greet a burly man who was leaning against a wall with his arms folded, a jagged blue vein zig-zagged across his temple adding to his expression of animosity. The man looked ready for a fight. But when he eyeballed Gunner, his demeanor completely shifted and he nodded.
Gunner stepped forward and offered his hand. “Hello. I’m Gunner McCrae.”
“Captain, sir, I’m Dane Tanner, casino supervisor.”
“I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
“Me too, sir.”
“Have you had any trouble?”
“There was an incident in the early hours with a big bald guy. I remembered him from the casino; the security guard had already dealt with him once.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, sir, nothing like that. He was just demanding more than his ration of food and water.”
Last night, Gunner had made the decision to ration the water prior to going to the bridge. Once each passenger had detailed their name and cabin number, they were allocated one bottle of water. Their instructions were to make it last one day and to retain the bottle.
The passengers had seemed ready to comply.
But he wasn’t sure how long that civil attitude would last.
He’d seen enough news broadcasts of disasters to know that wild brawls and looting were inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Rose of the Sea had her own desperate gangs to deal with. “I’ll send some additional help very soon.” He shook Dane’s hand again. “You’re doing a great job.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He left the fitness center and walked past the salon and the café. The lingering aromas of coffee had his hunger pains biting like rabid dogs. Forcing the cramps to the back of his brain, he stepped through a set of doors onto the pool deck.
When he’d first seen that enormous wave, he hadn’t worried about the boat capsizing. That sort of thing only happened in Hollywood. Rose of the Sea was equipped to take a battering from waves like that one.
But he wasn’t prepared for the sight before him now.
The devastation was extensive. Four-inch-thick poles were buckled and twisted like cable ties. Blood stained the wood-lined deck, as did a dozen or so bodies. In the cold light of dawn, the extent of the damage to the upper running track was brutal. Nothing but a series of mangled metal spikes remained.
It looked like a war zone.
Several people were wandering around. Their stunned expressions were justified. He felt the same. Even though he’d lived through it, it was impossible to comprehend what had happened. It was a miracle anyone survived.
Jae-Ellen was silent at his side as they passed the section of the railing that had literally saved their lives. Based on the damage to some of the other framework, it was surprising the railing had remained intact. Thank God it had, or he’d have been lost at sea forever, just like all those other poor people.
Squeezing the rotten image from his brain, he made his way past the section of the deck that should have had two spas. One was gone altogether, and the other looked like it’d lost a battle with a steamroller.
A foul stench drifted his way and when he scanned for the source
, he nearly gagged at what he saw. Raw sewage. An inch-high river of human waste spewed from the restrooms at the back of the pool, crossed the deck, and spilled overboard.
Jae-Ellen covered her mouth. “Sorry, sir. We haven’t found anyone willing to clean it up. And I haven’t had time.”
He huffed. “I’m not surprised about the cleaner. And I don’t expect you to do it. But there’s no point anyway if we don’t stem the source. Do we have a plan B in place for the toilets?”
“The men are using the back railings, and now that we have some light, the women are venturing to other bathrooms. But it’s only a matter of time before they back up too.”
Gunner nodded. He tugged the to-do list from his pocket and added solve toilets to the next line. The list was already out of control, and he’d only been awake fifteen minutes.
The second he stepped into Petals, the items needing attention multiplied threefold.
As he strode around the restaurant, the weight of the weary eyes of passengers followed his progress He couldn’t help but stare at those that didn’t stir, searching for signs of life.
The number of fatalities and missing people was shocking.
But, no matter what he did, it was going to be near impossible to stop that mortality landslide.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Light speared across the destroyed theater hall and Gabby blinked at it for several seconds. Her jaw dropped. It’s the first rays of dawn. Her brain scrambled to calculate that it had been about twelve hours since the EMP strike. An overwhelming blanket of sorrow engulfed her and she fought both tears and a huge lump in her throat.
She hated that she wanted to break down into a blubbering tearful mess. She hated that her tangled emotions were messing with her rational thoughts. Now was not the time for weakness. Not when her daughter was still missing, her son was no longer visible, and Max’s hand was severely injured. How was he even conscious?
Max pushed up from the floor with an agonized groan. “Adam. Where’s Adam?” His usually healthy, glowing skin looked terribly pallid. Max had been drifting in and out of consciousness since he’d scrambled out from beneath the broken chairs. Each time he’d drifted away, she’d been torn between searching for Adam and searching for help. She’d done both, but had succeeded in neither.
Waves of Fate | Book 1 | First Fate Page 19
