A Ghost of Fire

by Sam Whittaker

  Chapter One

  It was supposed to be the beginning of the happiest time of our lives. That’s what people kept telling us, anyway, and that is what we expected, regardless. It was our honeymoon, after all. Who doesn’t expect their honeymoon to be a whirlwind adventure of love and fun? It didn’t exactly work out that way.

  We hadn’t even been married for more than twenty-four hours when it all started up again, though at the time neither of us knew that what had happened at the dock was the reopening of that door to another world. We had both believed, perhaps naively, the door was permanently shut because it had been so long since anything had happened. We didn’t even talk about it any more by that point. We just sort of settled into a life of regular expectation where the biggest concerns were paychecks and bills and the odd argument about which movie we were going to watch or what we were going to have for dinner.

  It had been a little over one year since we had walked away from the final confrontation with the evil spirit of Jonas Pine in the basement of the now defunct Spectra Data Processing. We had come away with our lives, but just barely. We had also come away with loads of emotional healing to get through, perhaps untold years’ worth. When one of us came to the edge of ourselves, the other was always there to keep the first from falling.

  Yet after time even the most dramatic facets of life have a way of settling down and the past becomes little more than old pictures in an album we seldom revisit to reassure ourselves better days are ahead, if they not already present.

  Eight months earlier I had started my own editing and proofreading business which was still very small and serviced only a few people. At our parting of the ways Spectra had provided a good nest egg for myself, most of which I invested responsibly in things like a down payment on a reasonable home, starting up the business, and eliminating other debts.

  Yet it wasn’t just the Steve and Katie show: there were three of us that had survived that night, after all.

  Our friend, Trent Blacker, had also made the underground journey with me and Katie and came out the other side with the scars to prove it. The three of us formed a bond we could share with no one else so we did the natural thing: we kept in touch.

  Trent had carried on as a college professor and called for my “expert” – and anonymous at my insistence – help with a few related projects for some of his courses. He also worked sporadically on another book project which I contributed to in a few ways. Aside from supplying content and providing the major case study underlying the book I also served as Trent’s editor.

  Additionally Trent was the Best Man at our wedding and served as our chauffer to get us to the boat the day after the ceremony. I reflected later on his friendship and wished at so many points he could have been along for the tumultuous cruise. I couldn’t say whether this would have changed anything in the end but the solidarity at least would have been good.

  There were others who had been involved in the whole Spectra episode that had lived, partly because they hadn’t gone into the dark belly of the building and been part of the confrontation. After that night they had disappeared entirely and we hadn’t heard from them since, which suited me just fine. I had no desire to reconnect with any of them, in partial measure because I had lost respect for them due to their refusal to accompany us on the final and most dangerous leg of our little adventure in Hell. I could admit there was also a fear that if I had stayed in contact with any of them some other similarly unwanted escapade might crop up. Not much was clearer to me as my desire to avoid such an eventuality. But life has an odd way of spoiling some of our greatest ambitions, sometimes with ferocity.

  Jan Fenstra’s words after the conflict often came back to haunt me – “But you may not have a choice.” I did not care to ponder what she might have meant by that but I couldn’t always stop myself. It was Katie who saved me from those moments of unsolvable anxiety. She was my beautiful constant when everything else wanted to shift.

  Trent slowed his car as we approached the curb and there was a brief shriek of protest from the vehicle’s brakes before it came to a complete stop. He put it in park but left it running. He turned in his seat and said, “Okay, this looks like the place to me.” We all looked as one out the car windows at our destination and were all silent at first, awed by the size of it. Finally Trent whistled and said, “That is one big boat.”

  We all exited the idling car to get a clearer look at the hulk. It’s one thing to see small pictures of something like that when you booked passage online; it was another thing entirely to see it up close and personal. I thought that to say it was a “big boat” was to put it mildly. It was gargantuan, a floating four star hotel and then some. We had caught glimpses of it from our approach but nothing like the sight which greeted us when we stood at the curb.

  I looked over to Katie to share the moment with her but I was greeted by a skeptical look. She continued to gaze at the cruise ship but her brow was furrowed in an expression of uncertainty. When I asked if she was okay she looked at me, looked back at the ship and finally returned her attention to me.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

  “Are you sure? You looked concerned there for a second,” I pressed.

  “Sure,” Katie said and shrugged as if it was nothing, then broke the moment by walking to the back of the car. Trent saw this and reached in past the door to pull the trunk release. The compartment released and then came open with a little help from my wife. Our bags were lifted out, placed on the curb in short order, and the trunk was closed again.

  “Okay,” Trent said, “you kids behave yourselves. I’ve got to get back to the real world and do something productive.”

  “Try not to get into too much trouble without us,” Katie replied.

  There were hugs all around and Trent headed back to the driver’s side door.

  “I’ve got those new chapters on my laptop,” I called after him.

  “If you get any reading done over the next eight days,” Trent warned as he shook his finger at me, “I’ll be very disappointed in you, young man.”

  Katie slipped an arm around one of mine and said, “You won’t be the only one.” She gave my arm an affectionate squeeze and I returned it. She rested her head against my shoulder as we watched Trent get back into the car and pull away. When I looked down at her she was already looking up at me. I leaned into her and kissed her warm lips. I was above everything in that moment, untouchable by anything that wasn’t the short, slender red haired lover attached to my soul even more than she was attached to my lips.

  When we parted from the kiss I asked, “Are you sure you were okay a minute ago?” I saw the briefest flicker of hesitation in her eyes but it was gone before it could be catalogued as anything significant.

  “Yeah, I’m great,” she said smiling. She diverted her attention back to the colossal boat before us. “It’s just that I’ve never seen one of these up close and I have a hard time believing anything that big can actually move anywhere.” I looked back at the ship and couldn’t say I disagreed with her.

  “It does stretch the mind a little, doesn’t it?” We looked back at each other for a long moment and then turned our attention to the luggage. The trip was a little over a week and we had two bags each in addition to a few other personal items. Katie’s bags were suspiciously larger and heavier than mine, supporting the age old belief that women apparently prepared in case Armageddon, or if some other major emergency broke out. I discovered and then snagged a nearby luggage cart and loaded all the bags on it.

  I pushed the cart toward a glass-fronted building which stood between us and the ship, but which certainly could not block it. The cart provided a fair amount of resistance at first and air involuntarily huffed out of my lungs and exited my mouth. I said, “You didn’t bring all of the lead bricks, did you?”

  “Just the small ones, stud,” she volleyed the sarcasm back in my court. That was one of the many things about Katie I liked: She gave as well as she took. Yet
there were moments along the way when I wondered if we had moved too quickly in our relationship. Our earliest days had been a tempest of emotional and stressful times, even after the Spectra episode. I knew the relationship could withstand great external pressure, but the nagging question in the back of my mind was, could it continue in the face of daily routine existence? Whenever I surprised myself with one of these thoughts I pushed it back down, painting it as ridiculous compared to what we had already been through. If the demonic fires of Jonas Pine couldn’t break our relationship, I reasoned, what could?

  When we got inside the glass building we found the appropriate line and placed ourselves in it. The whole thing felt suspiciously like an airport to me but the anticipation of the coming week overcame any complaints I might have had about waiting in a long line to get on board. My brain switched to “waiting mindlessly” mode and I began to pass the time by playing pointless mental games with myself.

  This entertained me well enough for the first few minutes and served as a shield against the palpable monotony of the wait. The scene before me blurred into a tapestry of sameness: all I could see was the backs of heads and shoulders. The haze broke momentarily when I noticed the face of a teenage boy staring directly at me. I could see nothing of him but his face because he peered from between the shoulders of two men facing the other direction in another line not far from ours. He startled me with the intensity of his gaze. I expected him to shift his attention away from me once he realized I saw him but he did not. I looked behind me to see if there was something else he might be looking at. There was nothing I saw which merited such scrutiny so I returned my attention to the boy.

  His head cocked slightly but his eyes remained fixed on me as if some new thought had come to him. His face was dirty, pale, and there were dark circles around his eyes. A barely perceptible smile touched one corner of his lips and I grew uncomfortable. Katie must have noticed because she said, “What are you staring at?”

  I looked to her face and saw mild concern painted there. “There’s some kid over there who…” I pointed in the direction of the teen while I spoke but when I looked back in his direction I could not locate him. “He’s gone,” I said to her, perplexity obvious in my voice.

  Katie searched where I pointed but likewise saw nothing. “A kid? What was he doing?”

  “He was just staring at me. He looked like he was maybe fifteen. It was kind of creepy.”

  She eyed me suspiciously. I think she had expected something a little more significant than a staring contest with some random passenger’s weird kid. Regardless, I was unnerved by it.

  I scanned the area again hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy but was disappointed. I looked back at Katie who just shrugged her shoulders. I nodded in concession. No big deal, I guessed. Get enough people together and you’re bound to run into a few nuts here and there. Back to waiting.

  Finally the line progressed to the point where we had passed through all the security checkpoints and we were ready to board the ship. We emerged into the sunlight through the back of the building where there was a long covered walkway extending from the building to the ship. It was open on the sides giving us a view of the water and the magnificent boat. Several other individuals and families filed down the walkway at various paces, dragging luggage behind them. It was halfway down the walkway where I was struck with a strange experience.

  It started small and I dismissed it at first, however, it rapidly blossomed into an incapacitating pressure. At first it was a minor wheeze in my breathing and I thought I merely needed to clear my throat. When I attempted this it became slightly more difficult to breathe, so naturally I tried a little harder. Then it graduated to moderate shortness of breath. By this point I had slowed my pace and Katie had taken notice of the mounting situation. She began to slow down with me, putting her arm behind me and her hand on my back.

  “Steve, are you alright?” The edge of concern to her question sparked further anxiety in me which in turn fed the growing worry about the experience. Other people were beginning to either notice and slow down to watch or skirt around us and continue along the walkway to their destinations. I cared about neither of these because the experience was intensifying by the moment. Within very short order I was on my knees and barely able to breathe. It felt very much like someone was trying to smother me with a thick, wet towel.

  I was only peripherally aware that Katie alternated between yelling for help and shaking my shoulder while yelling my name. Mostly I was consumed with the newly born terror that my respiration might fully cease at any moment and be followed by the inevitable problems oxygen deprivation could cause.

  The episode probably lasted less than a minute but it felt much longer. I ended up on my back with Katie and a few strangers kneeling over me. I clawed at my chest and neck desperate to get the air moving through them again, yet unable to do anything about it. I felt my face heating up as it must have turned red.

  One of the strangers who had joined Katie by my side pointed outside of my field of vision and shouted things I did not have the power of attention to comprehend. I barely noticed anything about the person other than he was a man. I felt him place one hand on the top of my head and his other hand on my chin as he tilted my head back, trying to create an airway. Some of the struggle to breathe was eased by this, but not much. I felt consciousness start to slip away and darkness took over the edges of my sight. Without warning cool air which carried the scent of the ocean surged into my lungs and I coughed and gasped deeply.

  I rolled over onto my side away from Katie and the Good Samaritan partly out of embarrassment, and I continued my coughing fit. When my respiration took on the beginning semblance of a regular pace I made my way up to my knees again but stopped when I saw the small crowd that had gathered.

  “Take it easy, buddy. Just rest a second.” This came from the man who had come to my aide. He was a fit forty-something wearing a green Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and sandals. Sunglasses prevented me from seeing his eyes but not the look of relief on his face. I nodded affirmatively in response to his suggestion.

  Katie watched me with fear etched on her face. I wanted to assure her I was doing much better but I was not yet convinced of that myself. Instead I took one of her hands in one of mine and stroked it reassuringly with my thumb. Her mouth managed a smile at this, but her eyes were still quite cautious.

  I turned my consideration to the man. “Thanks,” I said still trying to regulate my breathing.

  He gave a small nod in response. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Better,” I said, “Much better, in fact. I think I can stand up now.” I saw the flash of a difference of opinion on his face. He looked like he wanted to argue the point at first but decided to help stand me up instead.

  “Let’s make sure you can keep your legs under you for a minute before you try to walk off into the sunset, cowboy,” he cautioned. I agreed and leaned against the rail of the walkway. An ocean breeze drifted through the open side of the walkway and caressed the heated skin of my face and I could hear the call of seagulls not far away.

  I extended a hand to the man and he shook it. “I’m Steve, by the way,” I said. “This is Katie, my wife.”

  “Aiden,” he responded. A woman stepped out of the crowd to stand close to him. “This is my wife, Bridget.” Bridget and Katie exchanged nods of acknowledgement.

  A few official looking people pushed their way through the throng and came to my side. There was a brief conversation that included a suggestion that I see the ship’s doctor, which I declined. I was beginning to feel like myself again and since nothing like that had happened to me before I didn’t believe I needed much further attention. Out of all of the strange experiences I could say I had, a sudden and unexplainable breathing problem was not among them. Though disconcerted by the ordeal I figured it to be a fluke and not likely to happen again.

  When I had finally assured the cruise line representatives I was going to be just fi
ne they scurried away, no doubt to other pressing duties, and we were able to resume our journey to the ship. Most of the crowd had shuffled along by that point and so the flow of foot traffic had returned to normal. Aiden and Bridget had wished us good luck and likewise moved on in search of their cabin.

  I had expected a string of questions from Katie but she remained silent until we boarded the ship. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that but I knew she was thinking about what had happened and that now what should have been the exciting initiation of our life together was tinged with a sour start. I didn’t know if I should say something or let her process her thoughts on her own. I never got the chance to decide because we came upon the ship’s entrance and all thought of the preceding incident was overtaken by the view of the ship’s luxurious interior.

  We were greeted by rich, dark wood paneled walls trimmed with stainless steel and fine art prints of ocean scenes. It was obvious that everything from the light fixtures on the upper walls and the hardware on the doors to the carpet beneath our feet were meticulously chosen to give the impression that opulence was a primary concern aboard our ship, The Valiant Prince.

  Katie and I looked at each other and then back into the hallway before us.

  “If this is just the entrance, what is the rest of the ship like?” I heard Katie ask.

  The only thing I could think to say was, “Let’s go find out.” We both picked up our jaws from the floor and headed off to find our cabin.

  To read more from Sam Whittaker…

  Sam’s Author Webpage –

  https://samwhittaker.webstarts.com/index.html

  Sam’s Blog –

  https://sam-whittaker.blogspot.com/

  “A Ghost of Fire” Facebook page –

  https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/A-Ghost-of-Fire/113144592112247