“Hey steady on,” said Ross. “Let’s not get carried away, eh? Talk sense, man.”
“I’ve seen things, Ross… and now this.”
“They’re probably looking for food.”
“Do you think so? I think it’s the last we’ll see of our fellow passengers. Don’t you see? For some unknown reason, Davenport has lured us onto his damn ship. He has now isolated us. I’m willing to bet that the ten of us are all that is left onboard.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Danny, who tossed his man made rod to one side.
They made their way to the upper deck to find their wives still squatted on the deck.
“Where are the others?” quizzed Sarah, peering over her spectacles.
“Never mind. We’re on our own now.”
Ben told the group of his hallucinations, and of his haunting experience in the strange room. “So maybe my hallucinations were apparitions after all.”
“It makes no sense, Ben. Why us, and why here?” quizzed Joe.
“I wish I had the answers, but you have to admit, it makes a lot more sense if you look at it from my prospective. For instance, the strange fog.”
“You’re not telling us that Davenport controls the weather,” muttered Cindy.
“No, but don’t you see? When we were in Naples and Crete, the fog concealed the ship. Nobody knew about the Empress Medina but us. We never even had to show our passports.”
Ross countered. “What you’re saying, Ben is a bit hard to take in. You’re trying to tell us that all of those hundreds of passengers were ghosts?”
“Why not? Wouldn’t that explain why Davenport wanted us to play out the roles?”
“But the passengers talked to us. They were as real as you or me.”
“That’s because they believed they were back on the Empress Medina in 1925. Remember the story Davenport told us about the ship being found abandoned? Don’t you see? We’re living out the past. The mystery of the Empress Medina is unfolding before our very eyes.”
“You’re scaring me, Ben,” whispered Natasha.
“I’m sorry, Nat. I’m just telling it as I see it.”
Joe intervened. “If your incredible story is true, and that’s a bloody big if, Ben; then what fate awaits us?” Joe was reluctant to continue. “Remember when Davenport told us that the ship was found abandoned with no lifeboats? If it was found abandoned, what happens to us?”
Ben shrugged. “I cannot answer that, Joe. Maybe we all jump into the sea… who knows?”
“What a way to go. Lost at sea just like my great-grandfather,” moaned Ross.
******
Ben and Joe took their watch on the bridge. They strained their tired and watery eyes and scanned the horizon for any sign of land or vessel. The sea was calm, as the great liner drifted aimlessly towards its destiny.
“How much longer do you think we can go without food, Ben?”
“Remember the rugby team in the Andes that Ross was telling us about? He said it was on the tenth day when they ate the first body.”
Joe squirmed. “We have no bodies to eat. Maybe it was a mistake to throw the corpses overboard.”
“Could you eat human flesh, Joe?”
“At this moment in time, I’d eat shit. I don’t want to die.”
“What are you thinking, Joe?”
“Probably the same as you. We wait until someone dies and eat the body.”
“Even if the body is Sarah’s?”
“I don’t know. Let’s hope that it doesn’t come down to that… I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”
Ben stroked his stubble. “We’re getting weaker day by day. I’ll put the suggestion of eating human flesh to the rest of the party tonight. Even if we do have a body, there’s still the question of drink.”
“I draw the line at drinking blood,” grinned Joe.
“Who knows what we’ll do when we’re desperate. Let’s hope that we’re spotted before that crucial and difficult decision is made.
******
The group had returned to their haven, the Garden Lounge. The wilting surroundings plants, which lacked moisture, resembled paradise, and was a good a place to die as any. Ben’s eyes scanned each of his companions. He felt that he had to put his gruesome proposal to them, before anyone died.
Ben attempted to create saliva, before he reluctantly addressed the survivors. “Friends, I have something to say. What I’m about to propose, you’ll probably hate me for, but sometimes in this cruel world, life or death decisions have to be made… I’m proposing that to stay alive, we must consider eating human flesh.”
“No, no, nooo!” Natasha’s head rocked from side to side. “No, Ben!”
“Hear me out. We’ll only eat the flesh of anyone who gives their permission. I know it sounds macabre, but it’s our only chance of survival. The odds of us being spotted now are remote. I’ll leave it with you to think about it. Anyone who consents to leaving their body for the others, please sign this sheet of paper.”
Norman protested. “You said consider eating human flesh in one breath, and in the next, you want us to sign our bodies over for consumption. Don’t we get to vote on this?”
Ben ignored Norman and signed the piece of paper. Joe followed and added his signature to the macabre document.
Ross hesitantly signed it. Cheryl pleaded with him not to. They sat in silence, before Cheryl rose to her feet and signed.
“This is madness. I will not sign,” screamed Norman.
Ben focused on the distraught man. “Nobody’s telling you to, Norman. The decision is entirely up to the individual… Just remember, you may outlive us, but your refusal to sign disqualifies you from partaking in the food.”
Natasha wearily struggled to her feet. She gripped the pen and scribbled her signature. Ben embraced her, and together they wept.
They heard a noise coming from outside. Joe rushed to the door and jerked it open. Laid on the floor in front of him was a crate of champagne. He checked the corridor. It was empty. He struggled to drag the crate into the room and the thirsty inhabitants refreshed themselves greedily.
Ben savoured the invigorating champagne. “He’s playing games with us. Davenport’s fucking with us.”
“We searched everywhere, Ben. Where can he be hiding?”
“You still don’t get it, Danny do you? Davenport is not of this world. You won’t find him, no matter where you look.”
“I wish to make a proposal,” offered Joe.
“Go ahead.”
“There is another way we could eat and possibly all survive.”
Ben thought he knew where this was leading.
Joe continued. “We eat the arm of one of us. At least it will buy us more time.”
“Preposterous! Who would do such a foolish thing?” moaned Norman.
“We draw straws. The men only… The shortest straw loses his arm.”
Norman slapped his hand powerfully against the wall. “You’re crazy, Joe. Count me out. No way. Besides, Davenport may bring us food. He delivered the champagne, didn’t he?”
Joe glared at his fellow passenger disgustingly. “Well, if that’s how you feel, you don’t eat, Norman. We’ll watch you die.”
“It makes sense,” said Ross. “We cannot rely on Davenport feeding us.”
“Well, do we all agree?” asked Joe.
Everyone raised their hands, except Norman. His wife Wendy turned to him. “We have to eat, Norman,” she sighed.
“Come on, Norman, it’s a one in five chance,” prompted Danny.
“Okay, I’m in,” he blubbered reluctantly.
Ben produced a pack of cards. “We’ll use cards instead of straws. The lowest card loses.”
There were some anxious faces when Ben shuffled the cards. The five companions took their places around the table. “Ready?” asked Ben.
He dealt the first card to Joe. He turned over a five, and the recipient smiled. Danny was next. He was dealt a six.
Another card was dealt to Ross, a Jack. Norman perspired heavily, his eyes bulging as he looked at his card. It was a nine. The obese man giggled childishly. Ben flipped over his card. It was a King.
“Sorry, Joe,” said Ben.
Sarah broke down, crying and sobbing uncontrollably.
Joe rolled up his sleeve. “Let’s do it, Ben.”
******
Ross had found some morphine in the sick bay, and Danny had located a sharp saw. Ben had volunteered to perform the amputation.
Joe lay on the bed and tears formed in his eyes. “Make it clean, mate, and don’t worry, I have another arm.”
Norman and Danny held him down, whilst Ross poured the morphine into a handkerchief. He held it over the mouth of Joe and waited.
They waited until Joe closed his eyes, before they bagan the grizzly task. Ben reluctantly brought the saw to his arm and began to cut, and the blood splayed all around. Ross tried to curtail the bleeding to a minimum, as Ben sawed profusely and ignored the perspiration that ran into his eyes. Ben’s arm was numb when he hit the bone, which slowed his progress. Joe opened his eyes, the confused look of fear on his face.
“Hurry up, Ben! He’s fucking waking up,” yelled Danny.
Joe let out a blood-curdling scream. Danny and Norman struggled to hold him down. Ben sawed more vigorously and the arm detached from Joe, causing the blood to spurt out sparingly.
“Close the wound, Ross for fuck’s sake,” ordered Ben.
Ben placed the handkerchief across Joe’s face again, and Ross attempted to stitch up the wound. The wound was disinfected, before being bandaged up amateurishly.
Joe at last woke up.
“Rest, Joe, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” ordered Ben.
“Well, I guess my golfing days are over,” smiled the amputee. “Where is it?”
Ben felt uncomfortable with his answer. “By now, I would hazard a guess that it’s in the oven. Ross and Norman volunteered to be the cooks.”
“Who was the butcher?”
“I, unfortunately am guilty of that. Ross stitched you up. He’s done a good job, Joe.”
“How is Sarah?”
“She’s with the other women. She’ll be okay.”
******
The group sat at the dining table and surveyed the pink meat that lay on the platter. They had cut it up so that it did not resemble Joe’s left limb. Natasha left the table and walked away.
Ben scuttled after her. “What’s the problem, Nat?”
“You’re joking, right? I’m not eating human flesh. I would rather die.”
“And that’s exactly what you’ll do if you don’t eat. You’ll die. You signed your consent, didn’t you?”
“I’ve changed my mind. That is my choice, Ben.”
Ben comforted his wife. “Don’t give up, Nat, please eat the meat. Think of the future. Think of the children that you always wanted.”
“I’ve made up my mind. I won’t eat human flesh.”
She left the room and Ben felt helpless.
“Come on, Ben, you must eat,” said Ross.
Joe volunteered. “Well it’s my arm, so I guess I’ll have to be the guinea pig.”
Joe cut off a piece of the pink flesh and placed it into his mouth. He grimaced and chewed slowly. “Come on, it’s fine. A prime cut if ever I tasted one.”
One by one, they tasted the flesh, slowly at first, until they were accustomed to the taste. Sarah fought to keep the meat down, as she closed her eyes and chewed. Eventually, the smiles returned to their faces, all except Ben that is. His concern for his wife prevented him from celebrating the feast. Ben acknowledged that she was close to death, and she had signed their form, which permitted them to eat her body.
They wrapped up the remainder of the flesh after they decided to ration it.
Ben searched for Natasha and found her in their cabin, lying on the bed. “Won’t you reconsider, Nat? It doesn’t taste that bad.”
“Save your words. I’ve made my decision.”
He cuddled up to her frail body. “Do you remember our special spot on the beach? Our hideaway, where we made love in the sand dunes?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “And the time that I dragged you out to sea and left you on that sandbank. You were terrified.”
“We had some good times, Nat, didn’t we?”
“Yes, we did, and I wouldn’t have changed it for anything… I love you, Ben.”
“And I love you. When we’re back home, we’ll have those children. Three or four.”
“Girls?”
“Two of each, Nat. I promise you, do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
They slept in each other’s arms. It was to be their last ever conversation together.
Chapter Twenty Three
Ben stood on the deck and stared out to sea. He had seriously contemplated jumping overboard. How could he live without Nat? She had died in his arms as they slept. He pondered. Why didn’t I make her eat the meat?
Ben heard approaching footsteps.
“Good morning, Ben. Sleep well?”
“She’s dead, Ross. Nat’s dead.”
“Oh, my God. I’m sorry, really I am.”
“Are you sure? It means more meat for you.”
“That’s not fair, Ben. I admired Natasha a lot.”
Ben placed his hand on the shoulder of his friend. “I know you did, Ross. I shouldn’t have said such a thing… Do you know, I’ve been thinking. I believe Nat wanted to die. Why else wouldn’t she eat the meat? She’s not a Catholic, no. I think she died to save us, Ross. She was like that, Nat, always willing to help others.”
The grieving man unashamedly wept. His companion embraced him.
“Come on inside, Ben. You must eat something to keep up your strength.”
They left the deck, unaware of Davenport, who attentively watched them from the bridge.
******
A distraught Sarah appeared at the door of the Garden Lounge. Judging by her face, she was clearly upset. “It’s Joe. Come quickly.”
Ben and Ross followed Sarah to her cabin. They approached Joe’s bed. He was drenched in perspiration and was shaking uncontrollably.
“Shit, he has a fever,” said Ross.
“Let’s take a look at that shoulder, Joe,” demanded Ben.
The stump had swollen and was red. The rancid odour reached their nostrils.
“It’s fucking gangrene isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure, Joe,” lied Ross.
Ben took Ross outside and ensured they were out of earshot. “I thought you sterilised the saw?”
“Not me, Ben. Quinn sterilised it, or so he told me.”
Ben stormed off towards the Garden Lounge. Norman Quinn was sat on one of the wicker chairs. Ben grabbed his collar and pulled him to his feet. “You bastard! You didn’t sterilise the saw, did you?”
“I-I forgot… I-I had so much to do.”
Ben slapped the little man repeatedly, as Wendy tried to drag him off.
“You fucking forgot! Joe has gangrene because of you. If he dies, I’d advise you to stay clear of me, Quinn. You and your whinging wife have been a pain the moment you boarded this cursed ship.”
Ben dropped him to the floor. Norman trembled, whimpered, and crawled on all fours towards a corner, where he cowered.
******
Joe could not survive for much longer. That was apparent, as the gangrene had spread. The remaining companions sat on the scorched deck; their hunger great.
Ross whispered, “We must turn to Natasha, Ben. I’m sorry, but it has to be done.”
Ben held his head in his hands. “You do what you have to, Ross, but there’s no way I’ll touch a morsel of her flesh.”
“You must eat, Ben. It’s what Natasha would’ve wanted.”
“I cannot do it. I won’t do it.”
“She signed the note. She gave her life so that you could live. Don‘t let her death be in vain.”
Ben ignored the
plea. “Go away. I need some time to myself.”
Ross and Danny left the deck. They had a macabre task to perform if they were to survive.
Ben watched the squawking seagulls that teasingly soared overhead. The evasive birds if caught would have prevented such heartache and macabre behavior. Ben staggered towards the starboard railing and looked out to sea. He muttered to himself. “There must be land close by. There’s just has to be.”
Ross approached the troubled northerner. “She’s gone, Ben. What have you done to her?”
“What? She’s gone?”
“Yes, Natasha’s not in your cabin. What have you done with her body?”
Ben laughed hysterically. “She’s gone?”
“This is not funny,” stressed Ross. “We need Natasha’s body to survive.”
Ben turned to his companion. “He’s taken her, don’t you see? Davenport is playing with us. He’s taken Natasha away.”
Quinn interrupted. “You’ll kill us all, Duncan. What have you done with her body?”
Ben’s eyes lit up. “You arsehole. All you can think about is your fat belly. I don’t know where she is, and to be quite honest, I‘m glad she’s out of your greedy grasp.”
“Now we’re back where we started. No food.”
“Yes, we are, Ross,” groaned Ben. “I suggest we kill fatty Quinn and eat his body. It’ll keep us nourished for months.”
Quinn backed away. “You’re mad, Duncan… insane. You’ll kill us all.”
“Maybe I am mad, Quinn, maybe I am… Listen, Ross, what can you hear?”
“Hear? Nothing, Ben.”
Ben pointed skywards. “Listen and look carefully. Seagulls, there are fucking seagulls.”
The bus driver’s eyes lit up. “He’s right. That means we must be close to land.”
“Exactly, but where?”
The group scanned the horizon, and cupped their wiry hands over their eyes to protect them from the unforgiving sun.
“We must build a raft,” insisted Ben.
“We’re too weak. How can we be expected to build a raft?”
“It’s our only chance, Ross. We must get off this death ship.”
The Cruise Page 15