They Cling to the Hull (Horror Lurks Beneath Book 2)

by Ben Farthing

  Gaps spotted the ceiling, revealing the terraformed Deck One. Orange mist drifted down to dissipate in the untainted corridor.

  “It’s still spreading,” Chris said.

  “How much does it have to spread for that thing to get through?” Riley asked.

  “I don’t know. I suspect the red ropes that you saw are connected to it. They’re not trying to come through down here yet, so we must still have time.”

  They found a back stairwell, simple tile steps, and painted drywall.

  “Shouldn’t the crew be down here maintaining the ship?” Riley wondered aloud.

  “Probably distracted by the cult. Not to mention…” Chris pointed at a gap in the ceiling.

  Through the orange mist, Riley could just make out a bloody cord tautly hanging in the air.

  They went up the stairs.

  The next landing up, the doorway bulged outward like a blister ready to pop.

  Riley and Chris ignored it and kept upwards until Chris stopped them at Deck Six.

  “My cabin’s on this level.”

  They went through the door and found themselves in an interior crew and staff hallway.

  An orange-shirted staff member nearly bumped into them. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “Sorry,” Chris said. “Just heading back to our cabin.”

  They jogged down the hallway, looking for a way to the guest section of the ship. Riley wondered how much of this ship she’d never seen.

  Behind them, the staff member yelled for someone to find a radio. The staff knew about the terrorists. Riley and Chris were out of their cabins during a lockdown. It didn’t look good.

  They passed two more surprised staff members before finding their way out. They found themselves just outside the shopping promenade.

  “This way,” Chris said.

  Together, they ran into the hallways of guest cabins. Riley tried not to think about how many of these were empty, already invaded by the mutated starfish. She hoped Krystal was still okay.

  They reached Chris’s cabin. He fumbled with his keycard, and then they were inside.

  Riley waited while he pulled out his suitcases.

  “You kept bombs in your bags?”

  “Just the pieces.” He unzipped the first one and started dismantling the frame. “And they’re well-hidden. Grab my shaving kit from the bathroom.”

  Riley did as instructed. As she tossed it on the bed, she noticed a photograph on the nightstand. It was Chris and a little boy. “You’re a dad?”

  “Yep.” Inside the framing of his suitcase were plastic bags of different color powders and gels. The framing itself came apart into little cubes, one inch by one inch.

  “You’re out here risking your life with him at home?”

  “He understands. He was in the Richmond building with me.”

  Riley was stunned. “You brought him inside?”

  “Hardly. I chased him to bring him out.” He mixed the powders and gels into each cube, then snapped them each shut. There were twelve in total. “These are strong enough to blast a hole through a three-inch-thick steel wall if you secure them right.”

  “How do you set them off?”

  Chris dug through his shaving kit for a tube of toothpaste. “I filled this with the catalyst. When we’re ready, snap off the lid of the cube, squeeze in a drop from the tube, then snap the lid back on. Within ninety seconds… boom.”

  “Then let’s go.” Riley’s stomach flipped at the thought of going back down to Deck Two, but she would do what needed to be done.

  A pounding came at the door. “Chris Haberman! Riley Green! Open up, or we’re coming in!”

  43

  Riley froze at the yelled orders from outside. “How do they know I’m in here?”

  “I don’t know.” Chris replaced his bomb-making components and closed his suitcase. He left the toothpaste tube full of catalyst on top. “Maybe the cameras are working again. Either way, we can’t let them get in the way of stopping the Deviser.”

  “I’m not hurting anyone innocent,” Riley said.

  The newcomers pounded at the door again. “Last chance, or we break it down!”

  “It’s the crew, right?” Riley said. “Not the cult?”

  “The cult couldn’t break down a door,” Chris said. “Go ahead and open it. If things go south, I’ll cause a distraction, then you take the suitcase and run for Deck Two. Put this in your pocket.”

  Chris handed her the toothpaste tube.

  Riley breathed deep, then went to open the cabin door.

  As soon as she turned the knob, a bulky security guard shouldered the door open wide. He aimed a rifle at Riley’s chest.

  “Down on the floor!”

  Riley obeyed. The carpet was rough under her chin.

  The security guard entered the room. Chris got down on the floor, too. Two people stepped over Riley. Another large crew member conscripted into armed security and a smaller man.

  “Riley, isn’t it? You can get up.”

  It was Captain Silva.

  Riley stood up. She brushed off her pants, feeling the catalyst in her pocket. She avoided looking at the suitcase on the bed.

  The first security guard kept his gun at Chris’s back. The second aimed his rifle at Riley until Captain Silva gently pushed it by the barrel down to aim at the carpet.

  “You have to evacuate the ship,” Riley said.

  Captain Silva blinked impassively. “No. Not with the terrorists still running loose. They murdered Bengsston. He’s been my friend for a decade.” Blood was splattered on his white jacket lapels. He’d been close when it happened. Riley wondered if Nathaniel had pulled the trigger. “Until they’re in the brig, it’s not safe for the guests to leave their cabins.”

  “The ones who came downstairs are dead,” Chris said.

  Captain Silva seemed to remember that Chris was even there. “You were downstairs. You’re still alive.”

  “I’m not one of them,” Chris said.

  “He’s not,” Riley confirmed.

  The look Captain Silva shot Riley said his trust in her was far from absolute.

  “He came to stop them,” Riley insisted.

  “Stop them from what?” Captain Silva demanded. “They murdered my chief of security, took over the bridge for twenty minutes until half of them were gunned down, and for what? To turn the ship around? You’ve been down to Deck Two. The cameras aren’t working down there. My crew hasn’t returned. Before I send anyone else, what is on my ship? Why do these terrorists care?”

  Riley looked at Chris. He shrugged and shook his head.

  “It’s that unimportant that you’re shrugging?” Captain Silva was red in the face.

  Riley didn’t know how much to explain. She wouldn’t convince him of anything unless he saw it, but if she invited him down there, she couldn’t bring along the explosives. Still, she didn’t think she could lie and get away with it.

  “You wouldn’t believe it without seeing it,” Chris said. “The Coast Guard’s on their way, right?”

  “The Navy,” Captain Silva said.

  “Even better. Evacuate the ship. All the cult members that went downstairs are dead.”

  Riley didn’t correct him to say that Wendy was still alive, and they had agreed to go back for Nathaniel.

  “And my crew who went after them?” Captain Silva asked.

  “Also dead,” Riley said.

  “You witnessed their deaths?”

  Riley nodded.

  “Could you have helped?”

  “Maybe,” she said honestly. “But I was too scared.”

  “Scared of what? What’s down there?”

  Riley shook her head. “I can’t explain it without you thinking I’m crazy. But if I take you to go see it, we might not survive, and then no one would call for the evacuation.”

  Captain Silva tightened his mouth. “Peters.”

  The guard with his gun on Chris answered, “Yes, sir.”

 
; “Return to the bridge. Wait for my order to evacuate the ship. If you don’t hear from me for thirty minutes, start the evacuation without me.”

  Peters jogged out the open cabin door.

  Captain Silva pointed to Chris. “Get up. The two of you will escort Garret and me to Deck Two.”

  The other conscripted crew member stood straighter.

  “Wait for the Navy,” Chris said. “I’m telling you. We can’t keep you alive down there. We can’t necessarily keep ourselves alive down there.”

  “Then why were you down there?”

  “To stop it.”

  “Stop what?” Captain Silva insisted.

  Chris’s shoulders sank. “It can’t be explained quickly enough.”

  “And that’s why you’ll show me. Garret?” Captain Silva motioned for Garret to lead the way out of the cabin.

  The guard walked into the hallway. His eyes widened, and his cheeks paled. He jumped back into the cabin and slammed the door.

  “What are you doing?” Captain Silva pulled the crew member away from the door and opened it himself.

  “Wait!” Riley reached for him, but the door was already open.

  The mutated starfish blocked the door outside. It was reared up, covering the entire open doorway. Hundreds of feet wriggled around its wicked beak mouth. It thrust its mouth into the room.

  Captain Silva fell backward.

  Garret found his courage to raise his rifle, pull the trigger, turn off the safety, then fire.

  Riley’s ears went muffled and ringing again.

  Rifle rounds tore into the starfish’s flesh. It didn’t slow down.

  Riley helped Captain Silva scramble to his feet. They backed deeper into the room. She felt hands on her waist.

  Chris was reaching into her pocket for the catalyst. He had an open steel cube in his other hand. He dumped out half the contents and added twice as much catalyst as he’d told her. The lid snapped on.

  The starfish managed to squeeze one of its arms through the doorway. With an unnaturally fast swing, it knocked Garret’s rifle away. The crew member jumped backward, looking around for another weapon. He put himself between the starfish and Captain Silva.

  Chris ran forward. He threw the cube into the starfish’s beak. The thing’s arm circled behind him and yanked him closer.

  Riley screamed his name. She ran forward to grab the starfish’s arm. Wriggling feet jabbed at her hands. Chris’s own hands were buried in the tiny forest of starfish feet on either side of the mouth, pushing against the starfish’s efforts to bring him to the snapping razor-sharp jaws.

  Riley pulled as hard as she could. She turned back to Captain Silva and Garret. “Help!” she screamed, although her hearing was still muffled.

  The two men came to help. They pulled the arm back. Chris slipped out of its grip.

  He yelled something Riley couldn’t hear and motioned to the back corner of the cabin. All four of them pressed against the back wall.

  The starfish struggled to get the rest of its body through the door.

  Chris dragged up a mattress to hold it between them and the starfish.

  Then three things happened very quickly.

  An invisible freight train crashed into Riley, hitting her inside and out all at once. She smashed into Garret, who hit the wall.

  The sound of a sharp explosion burst through Riley’s muffled hearing.

  And wet bits of starfish flesh splattered all over the room.

  Chris lowered the mattress. He squeezed his eyes tight and groaned. He’d been a step closer to the explosion than Riley.

  Riley’s ears rang louder than a cell phone. She hoped that wasn’t permanent. The bed and walls were covered with thick red blood and small chunks of flesh. A strip of skin with little feet still shuddered on the dresser.

  Riley turned around to see Captain Silva wide-eyed, with starfish blood dripping down his cheek.

  He spoke, and Riley read his lips. “What was that?”

  “That’s what attacked me last night,” she said.

  He nodded. He must have seen enough of the starfish in the security footage to believe her. Odd shapes on the grainy video made sense now that he’d seen the thing in person. “That’s what’s on Deck Two?”

  Garret had recovered from the blast and now shakily held his rifle trained at the busted doorframe and splattered hallway. “Are there more of them?” he asked.

  Riley didn’t know. She looked to Chris for the answer, but he was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing deep. The blast had knocked the wind out of him.

  Riley realized she had the perfect opportunity to manipulate Captain Silva into letting Riley and Chris free to destroy the fleshy machine on Deck Two.

  “Yeah, there’s more. We followed one down there and found a whole nest. You ever seen the movie Aliens? That’s why you’ve gotta evacuate the ship.”

  “There’s a queen?” Garret asked.

  Riley ran with it. “Five times bigger than this one. Bigger jaws.”

  Captain Silva watched her with a raised eyebrow. “Why did you go down there? Why did your uncle’s terrorist cell go down there?”

  “I told you,” Riley said, feeling Captain Silva’s trust slipping away, “Chris and I followed one down there. I don’t know how my uncle’s involved. You said yourself your bosses told you to leave Deck Two alone, and you thought Nathaniel was involved in that. It’s probably some bioweapon he’s creating.”

  “He was creating,” said Captain Silva. “You told me he died.”

  “Right. The point is, every few minutes, the queen squeezes out another of these things, and they go hunting. You gotta get everyone off the ship.”

  “And you?” the captain asked.

  “We want off this ship, too.”

  He nodded. He spoke into his radio, but no one responded. “It does seem time to evacuate. I’ll head to the bridge to organize it. Garret, see that Mr. Haberman and Miss Green make it to their lifeboat.”

  “I’m supposed to keep you safe,” Garret said.

  But Captain Silva was already navigating the cracked and broken floor to head out of the cabin and out of sight.

  Chris zipped shut the suitcase.

  “Leave your things,” Garret said.

  “Either I take this, or I fight you the whole way,” Chris said.

  “Fine. Follow me.”

  Riley and Chris followed him through the starfish viscera and out into the hall.

  44

  Once Garret led Riley and Chris outside into the salty air, it wasn’t hard to convince him to leave them alone.

  “Half the guests have arthritis,” Riley said. “They need more help than we do. We’ll wait here until we can board the lifeboat.”

  The conscripted crew member was too shellshocked from the starfish attack to argue. If Riley had told him the safest way home was to jump overboard and start swimming, she suspected he’d comply.

  That left Riley and Chris standing in the shade of Deck Five, looking out at the Pacific swells, feeling the humid warmth of mid-afternoon. The ship had once again turned back toward California, and they were sailing under the storm clouds that had been following them since yesterday. Even the increasing wind and the threat of impending thunder felt like a solid anchor of reality after her jaunt through Deck One.

  “You ready?” Chris asked. He opened his suitcase to hand six explosive cubes to Riley and stuff six more into his pockets. “I’ve got the catalyst.” He patted his back pocket.

  In no way was Riley ready. She could wait here, get on the lifeboat with the other guests, and let the Navy handle the threats on Decks One and Two. Except they weren’t here yet. And every second she delayed was another second that the Deviser terraformed the ship, making space for its self-creating creation to come through.

  Until now, she’d spent her adult years floundering, angry that she was stuck delivering food and serving coffee, beaten down by a lack of purpose. But without that poverty and lack of purpose, she w
ouldn’t have taken such a big risk to reclaim Dad’s watch. Without the terrible hand that life dealt, she wouldn’t have been here to help Chris. Chris would have tried to stop the Deviser, and Nathaniel would have killed him down on Deck One.

  So this was Riley’s purpose, at least for right now. Life had set her up to make sure she boarded this counterfeit Aria so she would stop the Deviser.

  If Nathaniel’s and Wendy’s beliefs about the Deviser were true—if the thing really had guided mankind’s advances in construction—then maybe there was another entity out there like it that guided individual lives. Interdimensional guardian angels.

  Or maybe fate was all dumb luck.

  Whether it was God or a roll of the dice, she felt a purpose behind it, and she was ready to act.

  “I’m ready,” Riley said.

  As they headed back inside, crew and guests trickled outside. The crew raced towards their lifeboats and started yelling their lifeboat numbers for the guests.

  Nobody could be bothered to notice Riley and Chris heading in the wrong direction.

  They ducked inside and into the starboard midship stairwell. Riley had left Wendy crying in the stairwell at the opposite side of the ship. Riley hoped to avoid her aunt.

  They passed guests on the stairs, accompanied by armed security. One mean-looking woman with an assault rifle told them they needed to evacuate, but when they kept running downstairs, she stuck with the old people she was helping.

  Riley and Chris passed the Deck Three landing. There were no guest cabins below Deck Three, so the stairs grew empty.

  At Deck Two, Riley stopped. “What’s our plan?”

  Chris rubbed his chest and winced. “Run fast. Mix half the bombs. Shove them into the blob. Run fast again. Then we head as far down as we can and do the same thing to send this ship to the bottom of the ocean.”

  “I’m not going back into Deck One.”

  “Your uncle is still there.”

  “I said what I said.” She’d changed her mind about going back for him. Riley wasn’t risking her life to save the guy who wanted to help bring over the horrific world she’d glimpsed.