“Oh, now my boat isn’t big enough for you?” Cody said. “I don’t have to let you stay here, you know. Maybe we should drop you back off on the mainland right now, what about that? Or better yet, let’s put you in a tender and you can make your own way back. I don’t need a personal chef now that there isn’t any food.”
“Don’t you talk to her that way,” Artem said.
“It’s my goddamn boat!” Cody yelled. “I’ll talk however I want. You work for me, old man.”
“Do I?” Artem roared. “When was the last time you paid me, Granger? I drive your boat because you don’t know how to do it, but let’s not have any illusions about the power dynamic around here. You don’t give the orders. Not anymore.”
“Oh, go to hell!”
“Cody, calm down,” Adam cut in.
“Don’t you fucking turn on me too,” Cody said. “Not you.”
“I’m not turning on you! We have to try to get along, Cody. We have to try. Do you get that? We’re not going to make it, none of us are going to make it, if we don’t figure out how to work together.”
“Right,” Cody said, laughing shortly. “As long as I don’t forget who’s really in power. Right, Vesik? As long as I don’t forget that you’re the real captain of this ship and I’m just a rich kid with too much time and too much money and not enough sense. That’s what you wanted to say, isn’t it? Go ahead, you can say it. You’re right. You don’t work for me anymore, I can’t fire you, so say whatever you want.”
“Don’t, Artem,” Sara whispered.
Whether because of her plea or just because he didn’t want to escalate the situation, Artem was quiet.
“Come on, Cody,” Adam said. “Let’s just go to the kitchen and get something to eat. You haven’t had enough today, that’s why you’re upset. I’ll give you some of my ration, and maybe we can find some sugar or some caffeine, that’ll help…”
“I’m not taking your fucking food,” Cody said. “I’m not going to be the one on this ship that takes from everyone else. I know that’s what you think of me. That’s why you haven’t included me in any of the decision-making, right?”
“Cody, for God’s sake, I promise you we’re not deciding things behind your back.”
“You’d all agreed to the rationing when I came into the kitchen.”
“That’s just because we happened to be there and you weren’t,” Sara said. “It’s not because we were trying to exclude you.”
“Besides,” Adam said, hoping to restore logic, “would you have had us do anything different? We do need to ration food. We need it to last as long as possible. If it doesn’t last, we’ll have to go back to the mainland sooner, and you don’t want to do that. You said so.”
“Stop trying to make me sound crazy!” Cody kicked out at one of the deck chairs, sending it tumbling end over end.
“Stop acting crazy,” Artem said, raising an eyebrow.
“Artem, you’re not helping,” Adam said.
“I should never have brought any of you on my boat,” Cody said. Adam could see that he was shaking with rage now, and in spite of himself, he edged away. “I should have left you back on the mainland. I should have let you fend for yourselves, since you know so much. You’d have been much happier, wouldn’t you? No one to argue with. No one to order around. You could have just done what you wanted without worrying about what anyone else thought!
“God! I can’t believe the three of you have the goddamn nerve to sit here preaching to me about how we should all just get along when I’m the only reason you’re alive! You’re here because I cared enough to bring you here, and now you want me to fall into the role of the stupid selfish rich boy you have to tolerate? This is my boat! You should all be fucking thanking me, not handling me.”
Adam’s mouth hung open. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think.
Cody stormed away toward the stairs. They could hear the sounds of his heavy footfalls all the way up to the third deck, where, once again, the door to his room slammed shut.
There was silence for a long stretch of time on the first deck of the yacht.
It was Artem who finally broke it. “Always said that boy was a loose cannon,” he said quietly.
“You provoked him,” Adam said, not bothering to hide his irritation. “You know you did.”
“I don’t understand how he got so upset so quickly,” Sara said. “We were having an okay time, weren’t we?”
“This hasn’t been quick,” Adam said. “This has been a long time coming on. He’s had the same things to deal with as the rest of us, and he hasn’t been processing it like we have. He hasn’t spent any time by the radio. He hasn’t kept up with what’s happening on the mainland. He spent weeks getting loaded, and then his supply ran out and all his friends immediately abandoned him.”
“You didn’t,” Artem pointed out.
“Okay, except for me. But Cody’s not an idiot. He can see that you two like me better than you do him. Think about what he was saying. He feels left out. He feels like we’re getting together and making plans for the future without him. That’s not because he wants to be in charge. Cody’s never been like that. He’s afraid we’re going to leave him, the way everyone else has.”
“If he keeps it up, we might have to,” Artem said grimly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Adam asked. “We’re not going to go splitting up. That’s the last thing we need. There’s strength in numbers.”
“Not if one of the numbers is a raving lunatic,” Artem said. “Mark my words, that boy’s going round the bend. It’s nice that you can empathize with him, but that doesn’t make him safe to keep around in an emergency.”
“He’s pissed off, but he’d never hurt anyone,” Adam insisted.
“You can’t know that,” Artem said. “People do crazy things in emergency situations. Some people toughen up and rise to the occasion.” He pointed to Adam. “That’s you. But others, like your friend, like his friends…they start to crumble. And if they crumble too far, they’re like an unsteady foundation. They’ll take you right down with them.” He shook his head. “We can’t depend on a guy like that. If he doesn’t pull it together, we might have to leave him behind.”
Chapter 13
Adam barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Cody yelling at Artem and Sara, rounding on Adam and telling him not to turn on him. Telling them all that they were on his boat and needed to be grateful. When he finally did drift off, it was into a dream in which he, Artem, and Sara stood plotting in the kitchen. Slowly, he came to the realization that the others were plotting a way to get rid of Cody.
“We’ll throw him overboard,” Artem said.
“We’ll send him out in the tender,” Sara suggested.
“He’s not taking any of our food rations with him,” Artem growled.
Adam wanted to argue, to convince them that they were being crazy. They were overreacting. They couldn’t turn Cody away just because he’d gotten a little temperamental one night. But every time he tried to open his mouth, he found that no sound came out. It was as though his ability to speak had vanished.
He woke up feeling uneasy, somehow certain that something had gone wrong in the night. He rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of pants, and headed out of his room and down to the third-floor deck.
He found Cody in the kitchen opening a can of potatoes. “Split?” his friend asked, holding it up.
“Um,” Adam said. “Sure.”
Cody poured some of the potatoes into a bowl. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “Didn’t mean to go off like that.”
Adam nodded. “It happens.”
“Hasn’t happened to you.”
“No, well, it probably will before all this is over,” Adam said, although he hoped he was wrong about that. “Have you talked to Artem and Sara?”
“Just Sara. She’s down by the pool. Says she has a feeling the sun will come out today, and she w
ants to swim.” Cody grinned. “I wouldn’t say no to a swim myself.”
“Me either.” Playing around in the pool would definitely help them defuse the tension of the past couple of days. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah,” Cody said. “That was a little…over the top. I know.”
“We’re all stressed,” Adam said. “I get it.” He accepted the bowl of potatoes his friend handed to him.
Artem’s voice called out from the control center. “Everyone get in here.”
Cody and Adam glanced at each other. Adam shrugged and headed out of the kitchen, pausing to lean over the balcony rail. “Artem wants us in the control room,” he called down. Sara, who was lying by the pool in a T-shirt and leggings, opened her eyes and nodded.
Minutes later, they were all gathered in the control center behind Artem, who pointed out the window. “Look at that,” he said.
Adam looked. It was a big, flat-topped oil tanker.
“Where did that come from?” Adam asked.
“It didn’t come from anywhere,” Artem said. “I mean, it did originally, I suppose, but in this instance we came upon it. It’s anchored.”
“It is?” Sara peered out the window. “How can you tell?”
“No wake.”
“Should we go back the way we came?” Adam asked.
“No way,” Cody said. Looking over his shoulder, Adam saw that his friend’s eyes were lit up with an energy they hadn’t held in weeks. “That’s a huge ship. There could be food over there.”
“You want to raid it?” Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not raid it,” Cody said. “I just think we should go over and check things out. You never know. For all we know the thing is full of food or supplies. Maybe the people on board have things to spare?”
“Is there any amount of food we might have on board that would make you willing to let strangers come and take some of it?” Artem asked. “They’re not going to give you anything.”
“We don’t even know there are people on there,” Cody said. “They might have left. People left our boat, didn’t they?”
“That’s possible,” Adam said. “They might have decided they like their chances better on shore and dropped anchor so they could tender back. The thing could be deserted. And if that’s the case…yeah, there could be food.”
“That’s not all there could be,” Artem said darkly. “The virus might be aboard that vessel. Did you think about that?”
“This far out to sea?” Cody scoffed. “It couldn’t be.”
“I don’t know,” Sara said. “Someone might have been carrying it when they originally boarded. We don’t really know what the incubation period is. They could have been on the ship with the virus for months, infecting the others…”
“In which case everyone would be dead by now anyway,” Cody pointed out.
“You want to go over there and loot their corpses?” Artem asked.
“Of course I don’t want to do that,” Cody snapped. “I want us to have food. Don’t you? And if the people on that ship are dead…well, that sucks, but food’s not going to do them any good.”
Artem shook his head firmly. “I’m not going over there,” he said. “Even if the crew are all dead, the virus could still be alive. That place could be a hot zone.”
“I’ll go,” Adam spoke up.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
“Are you out of your mind?” Artem said.
Adam shook his head. “I don’t think so. Look, you’re worried that the virus might be on the ship, and that it might kill us if we go over. I get that. But Cody’s worried that not having enough food will kill us, and he’s definitely right about that. One thing might kill us, but the other absolutely will. I think it’s a chance we’ve got to take.”
“Insane,” Artem muttered.
“No,” Sara said. “It makes sense.” She shook her head. “God knows I wish it didn’t. It’s a terrible choice to have to make.”
“You don’t need to come,” Adam said. “The two of us will be enough to get it done.”
“But we have to bring you back aboard after you go over there,” Artem said. “If you get infected and bring the virus back here—”
“We’ll let you know what we saw,” Adam said. “We’ll tell you the truth. Can you trust me to do that?”
“Yes,” Sara said. She darted a look at Artem. “We can.”
“If we find bodies, recently deceased ones, who look like the virus took them…well, then you can make a decision about what you want to do.” Adam half-expected Cody to object to this, to remind them all that it was his boat they were on, but he didn’t. He just nodded.
“Okay,” Artem agreed. “Go on over, if that’s what you want to do. As long as you understand we can’t promise to take you back afterward.”
They rode the distance to the tanker in silence, Cody piloting the tender, Adam sitting quietly in the front. There was no navigating for him to do on this journey—the tanker was straight ahead and in the light of day they could see where they were going without any trouble. Even so, however, Adam was reminded of their excursion back to the mainland to drop off Cody’s friends. He had been in favor of this journey, but it had the same sinister air about it, and Adam had the same gnawing fear that he wouldn’t return.
They approached the tanker, Cody killing the engine as they pulled alongside a ladder that extended down the side of the vessel. Having worked together to securely moor the tender to the ladder, the two began their ascent.
“Where should we go?” Adam whispered once they reached the top.
“Kitchen, right?” said Cody.
“Sure, but I have no idea where it would be…”
“Below deck.” Cody pointed to a door. This led to a sort of metallic box, not big enough to be a room. “That must be the stairs.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Adam said. “But move quietly.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The two friends crept through the door and down the stairs. There were flickering lights on here—the first artificial lighting they’d seen in days. It looked alien reflecting off the steel walls of the ship.
Cody peered around a corner. “Here,” he said quietly. “It’s the bunk room. Maybe there’s something in—shit.”
“What?” Adam asked, hurrying to his friend’s side as Cody drew back, looking horrified. “What is it?”
“They’re—they’re dead,” Cody said, sounding sick. “They’re all dead.”
Adam felt as if his stomach was turning inside out. “What?” he whispered.
“Oh, God. We were wrong.” Cody sank to his knees. “They’re dead, Adam. Artem won’t let us go back. We’re going to catch it.”
Adam eased past Cody and into the room.
The first thing to hit him was the stench. He had never smelled anything like it and didn’t know how to rationalize it in his mind. Nothing should smell like this.
He felt bile rise in his throat, turned his head, and gagged, but he forced himself to relax. He couldn’t afford to vomit. Food was a priceless commodity, and one he couldn’t let himself lose.
Then he forced himself to look.
There were bodies—five or six of them—lying in the various bunks, in various states of decomposition. Adam would have expected to see bugs, but of course there weren’t any, not in this steel room in the middle of the ocean. There was only rotting flesh, bones starting to show in some places. People who had thought they were safe. People like him and Cody, now only these rotting husks of meat.
“There’s no blood,” Adam said quietly.
Cody had crumpled to his knees beside Adam, but now he looked up. “What?”
“There isn’t any blood,” Adam said. “The virus causes people to cough up blood.”
“What are you talking about?” Cody asked.
“I don’t think these people died of the virus.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can,�
�� Adam said. “There’d be blood splatters. I—I’ve seen people die of this, Cody.” He thought back to the car crash outside his NA meeting. “It’s messy. This isn’t messy.”
Cody barked out a laugh.
“I mean it wasn’t messy when they died,” Adam clarified. “And look. Look there. Pill bottles on the bedside tables. I think—I think these people killed themselves, Cody.”
“You’re kidding.” Cody struggled to his feet. “Why would they do that?”
“Same reason people are jumping off the bridge?” Adam shook his head. “It might have seemed like the best option left to them.”
“We’re not going to find any food here, are we?” Cody asked.
“I doubt it.” If these people had food, they would have kept going, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t have thrown in the towel like this.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cody said. “I’m going to be sick.”
They headed back into the hall. All Adam wanted was to go back to the tender and leave this ship behind. Coming here had been a bad idea, he thought. But they had to try and find supplies. They couldn’t go back empty-handed.
There must be something here.
Cody paused in front of a door marked “MEDICAL.” He pointed to it and raised his eyebrows.
Adam shook his head vigorously. After seeing the bunk room, he was afraid to see what the medical bay might look like. There were probably good supplies in there, things that could help them, but he’d be damned if he was going to open that particular door. He pulled Cody away.
At the very end of the hall, they finally found the kitchen. Expecting it to be completely barren, Adam pulled open the first cupboard he came to.
And stood gaping.
Dozens and dozens of gleaming cans of food looked back at him.
“Cody,” he said hoarsely. “Cody, come and look at this.”
“Come and look at this,” his friend’s voice came back to him.
Adam turned to see Cody staring into a cupboard of his own. This one was full of oatmeal canisters.
“Are those sealed?” Adam asked.
Escape The Dark (Book 1): Dark Tides Page 10
