MUTINY: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Reckoning Book 1)

by Lee West

  Laughter on the deck caught Frank’s attention as he moved toward the lifeboat he thought would be best for their purposes. He quickly moved into the shadows and crouched behind the lifeboat’s massive cradle arm mechanism. The vacationing couple strolled slowly along the deck, stopping to grab the rails every so often for balance. At first, it appeared the couple was enjoying the dark sea and stars, and then the vomiting started. The man leaned his body over the rail and audibly disgorged the contents of his stomach. The breeze spread the vomit across the side of the ship, never making it to the ocean beneath. Frank had seen Navy ships covered in racing stripes from large numbers of crewmembers getting sick over the side. Something the captain frowned upon.

  After the man stopped retching, the couple slowly moved back inside. Moving from the shadows, Frank inspected the pins securing the lifeboat on three sides. Those and the cradle stoppers all seemed to be in good order. In order to inspect the interior of the vessel and the engine, he would have to lower the lifeboat to the height of the deck and climb in. Glancing up and down the deck one last time, Frank started to engage the cradle arm but stopped when he heard voices in the distance.

  A small security team walked in his direction with flashlights. The men were inspecting the area around the lifeboats. If Frank were to hide in the shadows, as he had done before, the security team would find him immediately. The men were too close for him to walk away undetected. Instead, he took a different approach. He opened his tool kit and pretended to be fixing something.

  “What are you doing? Shift’s over!” yelled one of the men.

  Frank stopped what he was doing and slowly stood. Addressing the men, he said, “Yeah, tell me about it. Damned shitters are causing trouble, making the rest of my workload behind. I’ll just be another minute.”

  “Make it fast. Captain doesn’t want anyone near the lifeboats,” said the other man as they walked on.

  Frank banged on the rail and appeared to be engaged in fixing something for a few more seconds before packing his bag and leaving. Testing the engine on the lifeboat was out of the realm of possibility at this point. If he were caught engaging the cradle arms and swinging the boat into place, the security teams would stop him and quickly end their escape plans. They would have to hope that the diesel engine would work when needed. They had no other options.

  — 15 —

  Brett and Nancy were night owls, as most stargazers were. They would routinely stay up well past midnight in order to enjoy the night sky. Sometimes Nancy would stay up until dawn in order to observe the movement of the celestial bodies in its entirety. Brett had a harder time staying up well into the small hours of the night, even on their special “dark sky” trips. Tonight was no different. They promised to watch the sky and alert the others if the ship started to move outside of the circular course the captain had been cruising. Brett took the first shift, leaving Nancy to watch the sky from two a.m. until five a.m., something that suited her just fine.

  “How’re you doing out there?” she yelled to Brett.

  “Just fine. Nothing has changed. Seems like the captain has set the course and hasn’t veered from it in hours. How’s the packing going?”

  “Okay. I’m almost done, just gathering a few small things.”

  Nancy had crammed her large backpack full of extra clothes, their identification and some toiletries. She knew once they got to shore, if they got to shore, they’d have a very long walk home. In preparation for the walk and duration without food, the couple had tried to squirrel away as much food as possible from the buffet and formal dinner table. They used Brett’s backpack for those supplies and their astronomy gear. The telescope would have to be carried separately.

  Peeking her head out to Brett, she said, “Do you think it’s safe to launch one of those lifeboats in such heavy waves? What if we topple over?”

  “I’m assuming they’re designed to be launched in the worst weather possible. It wouldn’t make sense to have those things only equipped for smooth-water launches. Right?”

  “I guess so. It just makes me nervous. Besides, I’m already feeling a little queasy from the ship’s movement, I can’t imagine how I’ll feel on a small lifeboat.”

  “You’ll probably feel terrible, like the rest of us. You having second thoughts about leaving? We don’t have to leave with them. We could simply stay on the ship and see where it takes us.”

  “No way. I know where this ship is going and it’s not good. Right now it’s tempting to stay because we have food, water and electricity, but just wait. That’ll end and this will be nothing short of a violent tribal survival shit show. No way are we staying for that. No way.”

  “That’s the Nancy I know and love,” said Brett with a smile.

  He motioned for her to join him on the balcony. Moving her seat closer to him, she sat and snuggled into him for warmth and comfort.

  “Damn, it’s cold out here. That wind is something else,” she said.

  “I think the fresh air is helping me feel less sick from the ship’s relentless rocking. My stomach was flipping earlier when I was inside. How are you feeling?”

  “Same, but a little better now that I’m outside in the fresh air.”

  Brett moved away from her and picked up the binoculars again. He had a notebook on his lap, which he used to chart their course. The notes would help him decipher whether the ship moved outside of its previous course.

  “That’s odd,” he said, glancing at his notes.

  “What is?”

  “I can’t tell if the ship is moving outside of the course or if the captain is merely widening the ring. Can you look at this?” he said, handing her his calculations.

  Nancy carefully reviewed his notes, paying close attention to the waypoints Brett had written down. The projected waypoints were those locations Brett calculated the captain would move through if they stayed on the same path. Once the ship stopped hitting those points, they’d know something had changed.

  “Shit, you’re right. It seems like the arc has widened, but we haven’t actually changed directions.”

  “My thoughts exactly. But why would the captain do that? It makes no sense to widen the arc. Why make the circle larger or different in any way if we’re just biding our time out here?”

  “Maybe we’re missing something. I’ll watch the sky while you look over your notes. Something is off, because we’re definitely moving on a different course, and I feel like we’re going faster,” she said, grabbing the telescope.

  Brett shone the flashlight on his notes, careful not to get the light near Nancy as she watched the sky. Not seeing anything amiss, he decided to take a different approach. He took out a blank sheet of paper and started to plot the points he would have expected the ship to move through. Then he saw his mistake.

  “Oh my God! Nancy! We missed the last point and I didn’t see it! I had written the wrong digit in my notes! We aren’t moving in a larger circle, we’re heading out to sea!”

  “Holy shit! That’s not good! Do you have any idea how long we’ve been traveling in that direction?”

  “At least an hour, maybe two,” he said, crestfallen.

  “Crap! We need to tell the others immediately. They’ll want to get off the ship now before we’re taken way out to sea, where use of the lifeboats will become increasingly dangerous!”

  “I’ll break down the telescope while you go and tell Joe and Meg. We need to move now! I’m so sorry, Nancy,” he said with a shaky voice.

  “It was a simple mistake. Anyone could have done the same thing. You caught it, that’s all that matters,” she said, leaning to kiss him before going back inside.

  The ship rolled violently to port, throwing Nancy across the small stateroom. She hit her side on the bureau, bruising her hip very badly.

  “You okay?” yelled Brett from the balcony. “That was the biggest one yet!”

  “I’m fine. Just a little stunned, but I’ll manage.”

  She rubbed her hip and grabbe
d the key to their room. Dashing out the door, she gripped the bulkhead rails for stability and ran along the passageway until reaching Joe and Meg’s room. The lights flickered and then went off completely, leaving her in total darkness. Panic froze her in place as her mind spun with possibilities. Before she could come up with a new plan, the lights flickered and then remained on, illuminating her path.

  Finally arriving at their door, she knocked softly, trying not to alert the other passengers. The last thing they needed would be to instigate a ship-wide scramble to the lifeboats. Rapping her knuckles on the door again, this time a little harder, she prayed they were inside.

  “Nancy?” said Joe from inside.

  The door opened to a groggy Joe. The smell from their room escaped with the open door, assaulting Nancy’s senses. The stench was a clear indication that one or both of them had been seasick.

  “Joe? What’s happening?” said Meg from inside the room.

  “Nothing, everything is fine. Go back to sleep,” he said as he stepped outside their room. “What’s up? What time is it?”

  “It’s nearly one thirty and we’re on the move. The captain is taking us out to sea. We need to get going, NOW!” said Nancy, trying to stress the urgency of their situation.

  Joe vigorously rubbed his eyes and face for a second, seeming to wake out of the grogginess of sleep. “You sure?”

  “Positive. We need to get into a lifeboat now or we’ll miss our chance.”

  “Okay. I’ll get Mike and we’ll meet you guys on deck eight port side aft. The boat we’re taking is back there.”

  “What the hell does that even mean? Just tell me in plain English not Navy jargon! Where the hell are we supposed to go?”

  “Deck eight, back of the ship on the left side.”

  “Alright. That I understand. We’re already packed and can be out there in less than thirty minutes.”

  “Got it. See you soon!”

  Nancy ran back to her room, this time being less careful to steady herself as the ship bounced her around. Slowing down, she knew she needed to be far more careful. A broken bone or concussion wouldn’t help her chances of getting off the ship.

  “I woke Joe and Meg up. He’s going to get the crew members and meet us on the back of the ship on deck eight!” she said to Brett as she closed the door behind her.

  “Do we have everything?” he asked.

  “I think so. All we need are some clothes, the food and identification. You packed up the telescope, right?”

  “Yep. Got it right here.”

  “Alright! Let’s get out of here.”

  Nancy glanced into the room one last time before closing the door. The vacation plans had been hers alone. Now seeing how things had turned out, she wished she had allowed Brett to take them to another dark site. Even though she knew that being at a dark site would not ensure their safety, at least they’d be on land. Right now any land seemed better than being at sea.

  — 16 —

  Joe repeatedly pressed the elevator call button with desperation. He knew time was ticking quickly past while the ship was on a fast course straight out to the open ocean. The lifeboat plan would only work if they were close enough to reach shore with the boats. They couldn’t count on the Coast Guard to rescue them if they ran out of fuel.

  For the first time since waiting for the elevator, Joe noticed the entire bank of elevators was dark. Although the call button illuminated, giving him hope that a car would pick him up, none were coming. Each panel above the elevator door was dark, as though turned off. None of the elevators displayed their location. Joe assumed the captain must have turned those off too. The lights had been flickering all evening and at times stayed off for several minutes before turning back on. Shutting off the elevators only made sense. People could walk just as easily, and the ship’s electrical system would be less challenged.

  Turning toward the vast elaborate staircase with its gilded handrails, Joe started his seven-deck descent to Mike’s room. He ran down the stairs, taking the last two steps of each flight with a jump. Adrenaline fueled his exhausted seasick body forward.

  When he reached deck five, Joe stood in the atrium for several seconds, trying to catch his breath. The pace he’d run down the stairs took a lot out of him, leaving him completely winded. Although young, Joe was no athlete, and the heavy food and alcohol he’d consumed for the past week didn’t help his overall fitness level. Turning toward the cabins, he read the sign that indicated which cabins were located on the various sides of the ship’s vast passageways.

  He knew Mike had said his room was number 547. However, the rooms on the board didn’t match his room number. All of the rooms on the board were four digits long. Then it occurred to him that he’d never seen any of the crew’s cabins. They must have a separate number system than the passengers. Clearly the crew cabins were obscured from the passengers so as to create the illusion that the entire ship contained happy vacationers and not people grinding out their workday.

  “It has to be here, but where?” he whispered softly to himself.

  Walking up and down the corridor provided absolutely no clues to where the crew rooms were located. Desperation gripped him as the thought that the plan would never work dawned on him. He worried about never finding Mike and being taken well out to sea.

  “Excuse me, sir, are you lost?” asked a security officer in a crisp white uniform.

  “No, not really. Just couldn’t sleep and thought instead of waking up my wife, I’d roam the ship.”

  “Roaming the ship has a way of settling even the most active of nocturnal minds.” The officer smiled as he started to move away.

  “Are all the decks laid out the same?” asked Joe, pointing to the ship’s rudimentary schematic.

  The officer walked back over to him, clearly happy to engage in conversation during his lonely watch. “For the most part, yes. The exception being the upper decks, where the staterooms are on either side of the various public spaces,” he said, pointing to the map.

  “Right, I see. Everything is laid out so neatly. It’s really an amazing floating city.”

  “Sure is,” the officer said with pride.

  The two stood looking at the schematic a little longer until Joe built up the courage to press the man by saying, “So where are the crew rooms? All I see on here are the public spaces and the rooms for the passengers. Where’s the rest of it?”

  “Well, if you look closely, all of the staterooms are either on the exterior of the ship or the interior. The interior rooms mirror the exterior ones but are considerably shallower. The crew corridors are behind those interior rooms, and crew berthing is in the center of the ship, where no passenger interior rooms are located.”

  Joe couldn’t believe the answer had been staring at him the entire time. Of course their rooms were right behind the passengers’ rooms. Nothing else made sense. He shifted a little, trying not to appear anxious to get away, then finally said, “Nice chatting with you. I’m going to walk a little more.”

  Joe moved away from the map and walked slowly down one of the passageways. If he was correct, there must be a door to the crew portion of the deck that he never noticed before. Looking carefully, he plodded slowly down the hall until he found what could only be the crew door. It was a door built into the wall and designed to blend into the wall. Instead of a real door, it appeared to be a cutout in the wall, seamlessly blending into the décor. If he weren’t looking for it, he would have missed it, as he had done on previous passes.

  The crew’s quarters were stark. Bright overhead lights illuminated the shiny white passageway. The crew space reminded him of his time in the Navy. Everything in their area was spotless and glistening, but there was absolutely nothing fancy about it. Moving quickly now, he followed the numbers until he arrived at Mike’s room.

  Joe reached out to knock on the door but hesitated. He couldn’t recall if Mike said he had a roommate. What excuse could he give for coming to their room in the middle of t
he night? Hoping for the best, he rapped on the door. After a few seconds, a slight man answered the door.

  “Can I help you? Are you lost or something?” said the man through a thick Indian accent.

  “I’m sorry to wake you. No, I’m not lost. I need to speak with Mike. Is this his room? Is he here?” asked Joe as he tried to appear nonchalant.

  “Oh, yes, yes. No problem. I’ll wake him for you. Just a moment, sir.”

  The man closed the door softly behind him. After a minute or so passed, Joe began to suspect that the man simply went back to sleep; then Mike emerged.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “The ship is moving out to sea. We need to get going now or miss our chance!”

  Joe tried to contain his panic but failed miserably. The time had kept moving along while he’d searched for the room. He had already been gone from their room for over forty minutes. If Brett and Nancy were waiting near the lifeboat, they might begin to think the plan was off. Not having any communication devices frustrated him.

  “Shit! I’ll grab my stuff and Frank. Meet us on deck eight, aft!” said Mike, not skipping a beat.

  Joe ran back up to deck twelve. The run down the stairs on the moving vessel had been hard enough, but the run back to Meg was brutal. His body was near the point of exhaustion as he finally rounded the top flight and ran to her.

  “There you are! I was beginning to get worried,” she said.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. I had a hard time finding the crew cabins.”