On the topic of Rachel, she was supposed to have met Lori here some time ago, where had she gotten to?
Lori stretched and sat up, lazily getting to her feet.
“For fuck sake, Rachel”, she mumbled and went in search of her girlfriend.
Over on the other side of the ship, perched on the balcony and loathing every second of the experience was Martha. What little enjoyment there was to be gained from this trip came from solitude and the little things she took for granted, like the gentle breeze grazing against her face. The least she could say was that this breeze was pleasantly familiar, very British, and not too cold.
She raised a lit cigarette to her lips, revelling in the pleasure of something so small, something that in the grander scheme of things seemed all the more essential. Martha would consider herself a necessary smoker, she'd only smoke when it was truly necessary, a vast improvement from the excessive smoking she once used to do.
Ironic that, a surgeon that smoked. To be entirely honest, there were several factors contributing towards her habit uptake at the time, of course you couldn't leave out the stress of the job itself; cigarette breaks just seemed like stop gaps between every surgery, surgeries that in themselves required calm, concise, logical and more often than not quick decision making. It took its toll on both the body and mind, that was indisputable, especially for a bloody great surgeon such as her.
She had worked her ass off for not only that title, but also the respect that came with it in what was once a male dominated sector.
Numerous awards to her name, thousands of successful surgeries under her belt and yet she couldn't shake the toxic feeling of disappointment. Maybe if her daughter or at the very least her granddaughter had followed in her footsteps, it might have been worthwhile, but as it was, they were proving to be as much a disappointment as the males who had interrupted her content life.
Maybe her granddaughter’s waywardness was just a by-product of the self-destructive nature of her daughter, her life choices, her atrocious taste in men and her will to remain foolishly blind to the truths unravelling before her.
A shudder passed down the back of her neck as the cigarette smoke eased her soul just enough for her to forget she was on a boat in the middle of the ocean.
That didn't last long however, as the beep coming from the activation of the door keycard propelled her to throw what remained of the cigarette over the balcony and into the sea. Her daughter wasn't aware she still necessarily smoked and the last thing she wanted to hear was a self righteous bullshit lecture.
Much more to her irritation, it wasn't her daughter or the toad she called a husband, but instead that annoying flea they instructed to keep an eye on her, Irini and besides her another woman Martha could only assume she brought along for assistance.
“Hello Miss Rosemary, are you enjoying the voyage so far? I brought someone here to help take care of you, her name is Amelie, a professional carer and she'll tend to your needs. She's absolutely lovely, so I'm sure you'll get on”.
Amelie looked no more than sixteen, a baby, barely old enough to tie her own shoelaces. That ridiculously cute baby face and skinny frame looked about old enough to take care of a dolly, certainly not an elderly woman such as herself. Were they taking the biscuit? The best they could find to tend to her was a baby barely out of diapers? She was better off alone.
Irini explained the situation to Amelie, detailing all the listed requirements Christine had left behind, before leaving her to it.
“I'll be back to check on you later, ma’am”. Irini took her leave.
Amelie thought she'd use this time to bond with Martha, but if she was hoping to get anywhere with that, she'd have better chances attempting to freeze the ocean over.
“Hello ma’am, my name is Amelie, as… erm… Irini introduced us. I'll be the person to handle your daily needs throughout the voyage, so if you need anything, you can rely on me. How are you today?”
Martha remained tight lipped, peeved that she had thrown away a perfectly good cigarette, thinking it was her daughter or her toad. This made for a particularly awkward experience for Amelie.
“Yeah… erm… so I'll just follow the instructions”, she continued, clearing her throat, “If you need me at all, I'll just be here or in the staff cabin towards the end of the corridor, just press one of the service buttons”. She hurried off, probably feeling stupid for attempting and failing to initiate a friendly discourse.
Martha sighed, where did they find these bumbling idiots?
As the day came to a close, Lori and Rachel dolled themselves up a little and hit the onboard bars, pre-drinking before hitting the onboard nightclub, Tidal. By clubbing standards, Tidal didn't look like much, but it wasn't as though they were spoilt for choice, for the club was the only one available, however it was made up of three sections, a retro section, a modern pop and r&b section and a house section. The quality of the club became more a non-issue with their increasing intoxication.
They basked in the toasty warmth of one of many bars they had come across, lounging on the ridiculously comfortable leather sofas after having come in from an outside bar. Lori returned from the bar with four glasses of rum and cola, only to have to return to the bar to grab the vodka shots she had left behind.
As she finally sat down, Rachel laughed.
“You're certainly not holding back are you”.
“Time waits for no one, babes. Get those shots down your system”, Lori insisted.
“God, I am so going to regret this tomorrow… quite possibly even tonight”.
“I'll look after you, now drink!”
“You?” Rachel gulped down the shot and winced. “You'll probably find it difficult just to see straight, how the hell are you going to be able to look after me?”
“I'll think about that, you just concern yourself with having fun”.
“Excuse me”, a guy and his friend interrupted the pair, “Are these seats free?”
“Yeah, we're only using this one”, Lori replied, pointing towards the seat where Rachel sat.
“Okay, thanks”, he replied and took a seat with his friend, placing his beer on the table they all shared.
Lori returned her attention to Rachel.
“Better hurry up and drink those two”.
“Can't we just stay here until we're ready to hit the club? It's warm”, Rachel moaned.
“We still have four more bars to hit”.
“Ugh…”
As they sipped their drinks, Lori took interest in the familiar accent of one of the guys.
“Are you both Australian?” She asked.
“Me? No”, one of the guys chuckled, “I'm from the great southeast London, he is though”, he replied, referring to his friend.
“Oh, I've always liked the Australian accent”, Lori admitted, much to the curiosity of Rachel and to the guys.
“Oh really? Have yer been?” The Australian guy replied.
“No, never, but I hope one day I'll be able to. It's on my bucket list”.
“How are you going to do that without getting on a plane?” Rachel asked her.
Lori hushed her with a hand gesture.
“Go, you'll love it”, the guy replied.
“Really?”
“Certainly, you have my word”.
“Convince me”, Lori replied cheekily, taking a seat opposite them and next to Rachel.
They discussed the thrills of Australia and the stereotypes, which the guy was quick to shoot down as nothing more than unfounded paranoia. Needless to say, they had gotten deterred from their original plan and it wasn't until deep into their conversations did they remember that they hadn't even introduced themselves.
“I just realised I hadn't even given you my name. Sorry, I'm not with it today”, the Australian guy declared.
Lori chuckled.
“Well it's not as though we had either, so you're good. I'm Lori and this is Rachel”, she replied, turning to her girlfriend.
“A
re you two…?”
“Us two what?” Lori retorted, knowing full well what he was implying, but choosing to tease him a little.
“You know… together, lady and lady”.
“Are you implying that we look like… lesbians?”
“Sorry if I'm wrong, you two were just…”
“Just what?”
“Just giving off serious vibes. You know what, ignore me, I'm an idiot. I should learn when to shut my mouth sometimes”.
Rachel and Lori burst into hysterics. When they had finally managed to compose themselves, Rachel spoke first.
“No, ignore her, she's just pulling your leg. Yeah we're together”.
“Oh, that's cool, I have nothing against… you know, I'm not homophobic or anything, I'm totally cool with it”.
“Why do people always do that?” Lori questioned between laughter, “you don't have to validate your acceptance, we can work that out plenty through your actions alone”.
“Okay, fair play, but let's not forget that a few minutes ago you believed the stereotypes about Australia”.
“Touché. So what about you, what's your names?”
“Tristan and this is my friend, Kunal”.
Introductions out of the way and further into tipsy conversation, they for some reason got onto the topic of close encounters with death. Tristan started things off with a harrowing story about how he narrowly escaped an intense forest fire and Lori followed up with one about drowning in a swimming pool at the tender age of nine and being technically dead for all of two long minutes. Unable to match either of those two seat gripping stories, Rachel was left recalling a weak story about choking on a bone. Regardless of how much she was convinced she was going to die, the others couldn't help but laugh at how mild sauce it was, like it was a badge of pride to almost lose your life.
“Well I'm sorry for not having come close to death’s door like you guys, death just has less need for me than you”, she protested.
It was Kunal’s turn to think of one.
“This one is going to creep you the fuck out. So three years ago my girlfriend and I were at this fucking live festival out in the country. It was amazing, drinking, music, weed, you name it. Some people we knew were there and we met some peeps there too. We were completely out of it most of the time, hardly knew what was going on. Anyway, police must have got wind of the rave because they came in, but hear this before you think oh damn, because when I tell you, you'll wish they arrived sooner. So even from early that night people were vanishing without a trace, but everyone was so fucked that it was easy to just assume that people probably wandered into the woods or tried to make their way home or something, but then we heard screaming and not the normal drug induced, having a fucking good time sort of screaming, I'm talking full blown terror filled, holy shit sort of screaming. So naturally people went to check it out. No word of a lie, there was this guy bleeding like a fucking fountain where his wanger should have been. It was his girlfriend screaming. He only went for a piss and he came back emasculated”.
The others winced.
“Nasty shit. So who did it?” Lori quizzed.
“See, nobody actually knows the assailants and he wasn't the only one that night. When everyone had thought that that was just one grisly scene, expected at an illegal rave like that, maybe he was cheating and the other woman bit it off or something, shit suddenly hit the fan. People were pretty drugged up at this point, so it was difficult to focus on anything, but more people started screaming and more people kept turning up dead. I'm serious man, this was seriously fucked up, naked dead bodies hanging from trees, sprawled across the ground, heck, even the DJs were murdered… sucks, one of em’ was just promoting his pretty bangin' EP.. Anyway, whoever or whatever it was, turned the place into a fucking bloodbath. People fled, or at least tried to, but most were caught and killed. I tell you, it was the most horrific shit I've ever seen. My girlfriend and I managed to get away, but holy shit, I've never seen anything like that”.
“Fuck… okay, that one easily takes the crown”, Lori replied, “but how exactly was that creepy?”
“Well here's the thing, nobody actually saw who or what was killing people and others could barely remember what happened at all, drugs or PTSD, who fucking knows, but in the end the police showed up, shut that shit down and chalked it up to a mass cult suicide pact. We were attacked and they and the media thought we went there with the intention to fucking kill each other in some kind of religious ritual thing”.
“Holy shit! I saw that on TV!” Rachel yelped.
“It went worldwide. I didn't want to be part of it, but they were interviewing survivors and shit, asking them what made them want to kill themselves. There were even some wild conspiracy theories, some thought the music made us do it, like subtle mind control or something, others thought it was the drug mixing, heck, there were even people saying we were part of that second flood cult, you know, the ones that started off in America saying a second flood was coming, but keep pushing the day of judgement back when nothing happens. They guessed every possible scenario, but I know what I fucking saw, so I'm amazed they found no evidence to prove we didn't do it to ourselves”.
“Damn, so it's like your attackers were ghosts”.
“Crazy as that sounds, even I'm contemplating it”.
There was an awkward silence.
“Well that fucking soured the mood, how did we even get onto this topic again?” Lori interjected.
Kunal laughed.
“You ladies up for partying? We're going to the club”.
“Hell yeah, I'll definitely need to shake my ass and drink more after hearing that shit. Brain detox! Let's ditch this joint and hit the dance floor, folks!” Lori grabbed Rachel's wrist and together the group left the bar laughing and trying to forget about the disturbing story.
The club wasn't packed, but there were just enough people to make it worthwhile. A blend of good tunes and alcohol was enough to liven up the night.
As the bass pumped and the night went on, the four partied like tomorrow would never come. It was only when Rachel announced that she needed the ladies room and didn't return, only to be found by Lori embracing a toilet in a pitiful state, that Lori decided to call it a night.
She bid the guys farewell and attempted to carry Rachel back to their cabin, which took longer than necessary with Rachel running over to the side of the ship to puke into the ocean.
CHAPTER 10 - RACHEL & CHRISTINE
12:47am - 3 Days until outbreak
. . .
. . .
Rachel stirred and arose from a horrendous slumber, her head throbbing, her mouth the revolting taste of stomach acids infused with alcohol, her stomach as tight as a knot and her entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind.
She felt like shit; if she ever drank alcohol again it would be too soon, she didn't even want to see the stuff.
The cabin was dark, no surprise given the lack of natural light. Was Lori here? She couldn't feel her on the bed next to her.
“Lori? Baby?” She groaned to no reply.
Suddenly the flush of a toilet was more than enough to confirm where her girlfriend was. Out stepped Lori looking like something from a horror movie, no thanks to the lack of light, what little of it was coming from the mirror light behind her.
“You look like shit”, Rachel kindly pointed out.
“Have you seen yourself? Heck, ghosts would hide from you”, Lori quipped.
“Fuck off, this is your fault. Shit, my voice is so hoarse, I sound like a deep voiced singer, am I making you wet? Even a little?”
Lori burst out laughing.
“Stop, don't joke, I'm not in the right state. I've been making love to that toilet all morning”.
“Fucking nasty, am I going to have to use our cabin neighbour’s toilet?”
“You should talk, your toilet love making last night was borderline jealousy inducing. I was half tempted to call you a cheater and leave your ass”.
“You were more than welcome to join us, threesome baby, yeah!”
“Yeah… I’ll pass, I'm a one person and toilet kinda gal”, she replied, collapsing on the bed besides Rachel.
“My head is killing me. Do we have any paracetamol?”
“Nope”.
“I'm sure we do”.
“We don't, trust me, I checked”, Lori groaned.
“Ugh… I need a hot shower and mouthwash”. Rachel pushed herself to get out of the bed, whereupon she slumped to the ground and crawled over to the bathroom.
“You look ridiculous”, Lori mocked.
“I am never drinking alcohol again!”
Christine, equipped with a towel, gown and a small bag of toiletries, stepped up to the entrance of the beauty parlour as though ready for battle. Proudly she declared her prior booking and upon being confirmed, basked in the glow of acceptance. There was nothing quite like the luxury of self pampering, something she hadn't had in quite a spell.
Sighing with glee, she followed a woman dressed in white into the main quarters of the parlour. There she saw men and other women alike relaxing in what appeared to be a lounging area, sipping on herbal teas, whilst soothing music and the pleasant smell of lavender incense filled the room.
“There are various luxury facilities here, ma'am, we have a number of massage styles to choose from, from Thai style to hot rocks. We also have acupuncture and aromatherapy. There are hot tubs, sauna rooms, manicure and pedicure rooms and more. As you might expect, some of our facilities have a waiting list, so if you'd like to use them, please register your interest with their receptionist. Other facilities such as the hot tub and sauna room are unlimited use, though not designed to facilitate large quantities of people, so bearing in mind consideration for others is tremendously appreciated. We supply gowns and towels if you'd like, I'm not sure if you were made aware”.
Cryptophobia | Book 2 | Hell & High Water [Fear The Unknown] Page 9
