Marisol rubbed down the raised hairs on her arms. A sudden chill took hold of her when she heard Aiko’s dire prediction. “Well, I’m going to go see if I can get these people up and moving, try to find something for them to do at least.” Marisol left the wheelhouse. Alone in the stairwell, Marisol had a moment to compose herself. Her heart raced as she slowly got her breathing under control. Was this what it was like to have a panic attack? she thought. Whatever came over her was gone as fast as it reared its head. Never, not me. I am stronger than this, she told herself as she straightened her posture before exiting onto the blinding deck.
“Ayn’s not going to make it, is she?” Miller asked.
“No, sir, she’s not. Another day, two at most.” Aiko had no inclination of softening the blow.
“One more.”
“Sir?”
“One more dead civilian under my watch, Aiko.”
“It’s not your fault, Miller. None of this is. These people are alive right now because of you. Never forget that.”
“I appreciate it, Aiko—your optimism, that is. Even if I don’t share the sentiment.” Miller turned his back to the window, resting against it for support.
“Keep your head up, sir. Things have a way of working themselves out. You’ll see,” she offered with a hand upon his shoulder.
“Do you really believe that?”
“I have to, but does it matter? If we are to die out here, do you want to spend your last days depressed and second-guessing yourself? You’re still stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Think about it.” Aiko left as quietly as she entered but not before leaving Miller with a few things to consider.
In the corner, Soraya stirred, awoken by their conversation. She and Miller had been taking turns sleeping on a small cushioned platform that doubled as the lid over a small storage cabinet.
“I must have dozed off. What were you guys talking about?” Soraya stretched and let out a big yawn as she reached for her pants.
“Nothing worth repeating.” Miller returned to his vigil over the deck.
DAY SIX
“Accept it. This is the lord’s will. Everything will go much easier that way. Believe me,” Isaac preached.
“No, I refuse to believe I’m going to die on this boat. It doesn’t make any sense. We lived through hell only to die of starvation and thirst in the middle of the goddamn ocean?” Marisol replied.
“We can’t begin to comprehend God’s plan, ma’am.”
“Oh, will you save it, Isaac? If you think he put us in this situation after we lived through Pepperbush, your sense of humor is more fucked than his.”
“Have faith, ma’am. That’s all he asks.”
“I do have faith, Isaac, just not in him. What’s gotten into you?” Marisol walked away, lest her temper get the better of her. After all, Isaac was a friend, and he was only trying to help, in his own way.
“Where did the sudden sermon come from?” asked Rachel.
“Isaac likes to dabble in the good book,” She replied. “From time to time.”
“We’re really going to die out here, aren’t we?” Lillian asked.
“I’d like to think not, but I just don’t know anymore,” Vanessa replied.
“I’m so tired.”
“Me too, Lily. Try to stay awake, though. It’s better if we sleep in shifts. Too many of the others are sleeping already as it is. Don’t worry, Lily. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Vanessa pulled her close. “I promise.”
Lillian lay in Vanessa’s arms. She loved the feeling of Vanessa’s fingers running through her hair, and for a fleeting moment, it reminded her of better times. She closed her eyes and listened to the waves lap against the side of the boat. She felt the warm sun against her skin, and for a time, she imagined all was well with the world and she could be at peace with whatever lay ahead. “I’m not afraid, you know. Of dying, I mean. If it’s my time, I’m okay with it. I’m just glad I’m here with you, Vanessa.” Lillian wrapped her arms tighter around Vanessa’s waist. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Vanessa leaned in and kissed Lillian on the top of her head. Tears welled in her eyes. It finally sunk in for her; they were in fact going to die out here. For the first time since her husband’s death, Vanessa finally allowed herself to feel again. Here and now, on this boat to nowhere. It wasn’t even a conscious decision at all, not something she pondered at night; it simply manifested without her even realizing it. These new emotions budding for someone who only a few weeks ago she considered nothing more than a friend and coworker were overwhelming. She was in love with Lillian, deeply, but she dare not speak it aloud under such hopeless circumstances. Instead, she sat in silence, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held Lillian under the warm sun.
Samantha lay in Markus’s lap, knees curled up as far as they would go, her eyes raw from occasional bouts of tears. She kept a hand in close to her chest, the other clenching his baggy jeans tightly. Markus leaned back against the side of the boat, gazing off at wispy clouds, his lips dry and cracked, eyes regularly blinking against the light. He strained against the brightness to keep his eyes open. If he closed them for too long, they would never open again; he was sure of it.
“Look at them all just lying there, ready to die. Fuck that. Not me.” Radzinski’s contempt for his shipmates was etched all over his face. “They’re pathetic. Every last one of them.” He spat in the direction of a group lying on the deck. The wind took it and blew his mucus overboard before it could find a target.
“What do you expect? They all look up to that pussy, Miller,” Damon added. “That shit’s contagious, man. Look at my boy over there all hugged up on that redheaded bitch like he’s checked out already. A few months ago, he would have been right here with us, plotting against these bitches. Man, fuck these people.”
“You’re going to have to let him go, kid. Your boy’s weak like the rest of them. You gotta be hard to survive this shit. No time for making nice, not anymore.”
“I hear you, man. It’s just… We been through a lot of shit together, you know? And not just this whole end-of-the-world bullshit, either. I mean we put in time on the streets. We always had each other’s backs. That’s bond right there, man. That’s blood.” Damon insisted.
“He’s not your blood. He’s a lost cause. Sticking with him is only going to get you dead.”
“I don’t know, man. You might be right. I gotta look out for myself now.” Damon could barely stand the sight of Markus anymore.
“I’ve seen it before, Damon. Shit gets too real and people want to curl up and die. Trust me, we’ll get off this boat one way or another, and when we do, the first chance we get, we’re out of here.” Radzinski spat again, this time finding his mark on a sleeping Elliot.
Miller leaned on the glass overlooking the deck. He spent more time in this position than either him or those closest to him would admit. Soraya lay on the makeshift bed, fingers interlocked behind her head. Begrudgingly, she took the spot as her own, as Miller insisted on sleeping on the floor. Neither had the strength to argue.
“Do you mind if I ask you something, Soraya?” Miller asked sheepishly.
“Of course not, Miller. You can ask me anything,” Soraya replied as she sat up, a little flush.
“Back at the cabin with Tobias,” he began.
“I know. He was a good man.”
“Yes, he was,” he started again. “When no one else stepped up to do what needed to be done, why did you? I mean, you were so adamant about them being treated with respect. We’ve seen so many die, yet there was something different about Tobias and Tommy.”
“It was the boy,” Soraya said after a pause. “I see families ripped apart every day back home. Innocent children killed or maimed for bullshit of others. I do not like this. Children should not suffer for our sins.”
“Thank you.”
“Miller?” she asked, perplexed, as she wasn’t yet finished her thoughts.
/> “I couldn’t have done that. What you did back there,” he said. “Hauling their bodies out of the rubble and doing what was necessary. Especially the boy. I would have just left them there without even shooting them, so thank you. Thank you so much.”
Miller collapsed to the floor, landing on his knees. A wall finally came down. Soraya rushed to his side. Miller reached around her waist, held on with all he had, and cried like he hadn’t since he was a child.
“It is going to be okay, Miller. I am here.” Soraya caressed his head and ran her fingers through his hair. She held him close but kept a watchful eye on the deck below. She would maintain his vigil for as long as necessary.
DAY SEVEN
“I just heard from Lily that Ayn died overnight. They’ve got her covered up out on deck.” Samantha bit her lip until it bled. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even mean to walk straight into Markus, but she kept moving forward, anyway. He caught her. Though his grip was loose enough for her to back away, she didn’t. Samantha just stood there. So did Markus, the pair of them gazing at separate points in the dim living quarters of the boat. One of them stared hard at a broken clock, the other listlessly at the floor.
“Damn,” Markus whispered. “She must have been way worse off than she was letting on, huh?” He gripped the banister tight. If he could yank it free and swing it around, he would. Goddamit, he thought. What the fuck happened?
Not a word was spoken as they found each other’s hands. It became a game of who would silently beg the other for support first. He lost, as the cracks in his once hard exterior began to show.
“I don’t remember seeing her eat anything. Maybe that’s why,” Samantha finally offered, in her own way pleading for affirmation.
Head down, she pulled on Markus’s shirt. He had no relief to offer, and she knew it. He reciprocated as best he could, pulling her hand close to his chest. Finally, she relented. It was time to straighten up. With a blushed smile, she slowly and slightly pulled away from Markus. “I’m sorry,” she began.
Markus wiped a tear from her cheek, returning a wide smile of his own. He brushed damp hair from her face and was about to offer a few words of encouragement as Damon piped up, seemingly never too far away at the most inopportune time.
“Oh yeah, you don’t remember what she ate. What was the last thing I ate then?” Damon demanded.
“What’s your problem? Who asked you anyway?” Samantha fully pulled away from Markus.
“You whine and you make shit up. That’s my problem. You don’t know what killed her, so don’t act like you do.”
“You know what? Go fuck yourself, Damon. I don’t have to put up with your crap.” Samantha stormed off.
“Samantha, wait.” Markus tried to stop her, but she yanked her arm free. He watched her disappear into the sun-drenched deck before he returned his attention to Damon. “What is up with you, man? That shit was uncalled for. You fuck with her every chance you get.”
“That country bitch is making you soft. That’s why. Back home, you wouldn’t give a fuck about that bitch or any of these other chumps.”
“Country bitch?” Markus was incensed. “She’s from Seattle, for Christ’s sake. You know, that’s the problem right there. We’re not back home. We’ll never be back home. The sooner you get your head around that, the sooner you can be of help to the rest of us and not such a dick all the time. Now excuse me, I think I need some fresh air. It stinks down here.”
“She’s playing you, son. No way that bitch likes your black ass. That cunt ain’t shit.” Damon insisted on having the final say on the matter.
Markus turned and landed a left hook on Damon’s jaw. It would have incapacitated someone not accustomed to fighting. Instead, it sent Damon flying back into the corner, where he landed on his ass.
“Enough!” Markus shouted with finality before turning to leave the small confines of the cabin for the deck above.
Radzinski entered the room, obviously eavesdropping from the small corridor. “Your boy seems to have his priorities all fucked up, huh?” he commented as he helped Damon to his feet.
“Man, that bitch is fucking with his head. That’s all,” Damon replied, rubbing his jaw.
“Ignore it. This shit we’re living in right now, right here, it brings out the best in people. Unfortunately for your friend, his best is being a pussy.”
“That’s what’s up. You’re probably right. He ain’t been the same since we stumbled into that backward-ass town.”
“Backward-ass town. Ha. You can say that again. These people have no idea how to take care of themselves. Shit, if it wasn’t for me and my unit, none of them would have made it out of that shithole alive.”
“You’re right about that. All these motherfuckers do is whine and talk shit. Motherfucker, don’t talk about it. Be about it.”
“Words to live by, my man. I can see you’ve got drive. Same as me. People like us know the score, and if it comes down to it, I’ll leave every one of these motherfuckers to die,” Radzinski said with a shrug.
“I heard that.” Damon nodded, offering up a fist bump.
“You’re alright, kid.” Radzinski returned the gesture. “I got your six. Stick with me. We’ll make it through this shit just fine.”
As the day wore on, the group slowly gathered out on the main deck. Something needed to be done about the lack of rations.
“We’ve been drifting for days, out of food almost as long, and unless by some miracle it rains, our water will all be gone by tonight.” Nisha looked to the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight as she shielded her eyes from the blinding sun with the palm of her hand.
“I’ve been trying to fish. It ain’t working, man,” Bernie added, a tangle of discarded clothes at his feet, his makeshift net a complete failure.
“Of course you’re not going to catch anything. We don’t have any bait,” Elliot added.
“Anything less than a shark and we’re going to starve to death out here anyway. Look at all of us.” Ryan pointed out the mass of people on deck.
“We need something substantial to eat,” Jeremiah added. “Otherwise, when—if—we see the shore, we’ll be too weak to swim to it, anyway.”
“We’ll have to swim?” Nisha asked nervously.
“Possibly,” Jeremiah replied.
“There is another option,” Radzinski began. “I know you’ve thought of it, too, Jerry. That analytical mind of yours is always ticking away at problems.”
“What are you saying?” Vanessa asked.
“I’m not going to win any brownie points for this, and most of you don’t like me anyway, so fuck it.” Radzinski looked around at the curious faces. “We should eat the girl,” he suggested.
“Who, Ayn? You can’t be serious,” Ryan said immediately.
“Absolutely not,” Isaac said.
“What the fuck?” Elliot asked.
“I ain’t eating no person.” Bernie folded his arms tightly across his chest.
“How could you even say that about her?” Samantha began to well up.
“It is an option,” Vanessa added.
“Vanessa, how could you? I can’t believe you would agree with this,” Samantha protested as the others grew silent.
“I’m not saying I want to or that I even would if it came down to it, just that it is an option. Look, we might all die out here, but if Ayn can help keep us alive a little longer, that might be all the time we need to get back to shore. I didn’t know her that well, but I think she would want us to live, no matter what it takes,” Vanessa explained as she gently pulled Ayn’s hair out of her eyes, trying to make it look nice again.
Samantha began to cry. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t fucking do this. I won’t!” Samantha broke down, beating her fist into her legs.
Markus put his arm around her and pulled her in. “Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. No one’s going to make you do anything. I won’t let them,” he whispered.
Saman
tha buried her face in his chest. She pulled part of his shirt over her eyes. “I won’t do it,” she sobbed.
“I’ll do it,” Isabelle offered, emotionless.
“Mom, no,” Lillian protested.
“This isn’t happening.” Ryan grabbed his head with both hands, and his pacing of the deck quickened.
“Wait a minute, Izzy. Let’s talk about this.” Nisha stepped toward Isabelle.
Before anyone could stop her, Isabelle sliced deep into Ayn’s thigh, carving out a large chunk of muscle. She held the bloody flesh out at arm’s length, presenting it up to the group. “Who wants the first piece?” Isabelle offered, waving the piece of meat around. With no one leaping at the chance to be first, Isabelle opened her mouth to take the first bite.
“Put it down now!” Aiko slapped the piece of meat from Isabelle’s hand. The flank skidded off the side of the boat, disappearing into the dark water below.
“Now what did you do that for, Aiko? If you don’t want to eat, don’t eat. Should we all die ’cause this creeps you out?” Radzinski said, getting into the middle of it.
“You cannot eat that meat,” Aiko insisted.
“I’ll cut you a piece, too. There’s plenty for everyone,” Isabelle offered.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Mom?” Lillian screamed in disbelief, tears finally bursting forth.
“Fuck it. Cut away, girl.” Radzinski laughed.
Isabelle proceeded to slice off another piece, now from Ayn’s calf. With this portion, she cut deeper, exposing white bone beneath. Pinpricks of blood dotted the wound, slowly forming minuscule droplets that splashed into a tiny pool at Isabelle’s knees.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Ryan vomited over the side of the boat. Yellow bile from an empty stomach stained his shirt. He turned back to the conversation and leaned his back hard against the side of the boat, sliding down to the deck and onto his ass.
“About time someone wised up around here. We are going to die if we don’t do this, people,” Radzinski said to the mostly horrified group.
“What are you doing to her? Stop it, please!” Samantha screamed.
“I cannot believe my eyes!” Lancaster shouted. “Is there no end to your people’s madness?”
The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll Page 18