There had to have been at least half a dozen of them. Finn was already peeking through the curtains we’d drawn across the sliding glass doors when I woke. The one nearest to our balcony had a channel 9 news logo on its side, the rest were all dark green and black. We slid the doors open and jumped onto the balcony. Two of the helicopters turned in our direction as Finn and I waved frantically.
“Over here! We’re here!” Finn yelled. I joined in and felt an uplifting sensation of hope course through me.
As they drew closer Finn suddenly stopped waving, and I noticed he was focusing on one of green and black helicopters. He turned to me with a confused look on his face.
“Look at the guns and missiles on that thing, it looks like some kind of attack helicopter. Why would they send something like that? And other than the news chopper all the rest look the same. No markings, no logos, just weapons.”
I shrugged. “What’s the difference? As long as one of them can fly us out of here, I’m happy!”
They hovered a hundred feet from our cabin balcony for what seemed like an eternity. The one on the right was the news chopper, and the crew was leaning out with their cameras trained on our balcony.
A man’s voice suddenly boomed over loud speakers from the dark green chopper.
“This is quarantined air space, you are to vacate the premises immediately and report to Fort Buchanan for questioning. This is your one and only warning. You have ten seconds to comply before the use of deadly force is authorized.”
For a brief moment the news crew shifted their cameras in the direction of the man‘s voice, but quickly turned back toward our cabin.
Finn and I exchanged confused looks. “They wouldn’t really shoot them down, would they? Freedom of press and such, right?” I asked, looking back at the helicopters.
Finn nodded.
“There’s no way, imagine the uproar if they shot and killed members of the press. They probably just want to make sure they don’t get too close to the infected, otherwise they might-”
He was cut short as gunfire exploded in front of us, riddling the news chopper with plate sized holes. Its metal body twisted and shrieked, and before Finn and I had a chance to react, the bullets reached the gas tank.
It exploded with a deafening BOOM, and I felt a sudden pressure at my sides. Hands were grabbing at my waist. I was yanked to the ground, hard. Before I knew what was happening Finn threw himself on top of me. Milliseconds later our balcony was pelted by burning metal. I heard the cracking of glass, followed by a huge SPLASH. I looked up to see the glass paneling of our balcony was all but shattered. The shrapnel had sent cracks radiating out from the center like a spider web.
I could feel Finn’s hot breath on my neck, and my nose burned with the smell of fuel.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so, are you?” I asked, suddenly aware that he could’ve been hit by the shrapnel.
“Yeah, we ducked just in time.”
He stood and helped me to my feet. I was trembling as I peered over what was left of the railing. I stared, dumbfounded, as the smoldering remains of the news chopper slowly sank to the bottom of the ocean. A trail of dark, thick smoke twirled up from the blackened water as smaller pieces of debris floated toward the surface.
We looked up to see the attack helicopter facing us again. The wind from the blades made my eyes water, making it hard to see what was going on inside it. I started to feel very uneasy. Something was definitely not right. I felt Finn’s hand close around my own and noticed his eyes were locked on the chopper.
“Lily, I don‘t think we should stay here. We should go.
I squeezed his hand and gave him the slightest of nods to let him know I agreed.
“Let’s go, slowly…” he whispered, never taking his eyes off the chopper.
We started to back up through the sliding glass doors, but just as we stepped onto the carpet one of the machine guns started to rotate. Finn and I turned and bolted inside the cabin. I made for the door but Finn screamed at me.
“No! Those things could be right outside the door!”
He spun around frantically as bullets started shredding our balcony. The pilot lowered the chopper so its guns were level with our cabin.
Finn yanked the bathroom door open and pulled me inside just as the bullets started whizzing past us. He closed the door and pointed to the tub, which was still filled with water. I quickly lowered myself into it, and Finn practically jumped in on top of me.
Water splashed onto the linoleum floor as Finn and I pressed ourselves as low into the tub as we could. Bullets passed through the bathroom door as if it were made of tissue paper. They peppered the walls around us as falling plaster turned the tub water into a milky white soup.
I don‘t know how long it was before the gunfire stopped, but it felt like hours. My ears were still ringing when Finn peeked over the top of the tub. He made sure to keep me from doing the same. I could still hear the sound of the helicopter, but it seemed further away. Finn slowly lifted himself out of the tub and walked toward the bathroom door. It looked like a piece of burnt Swiss cheese as he peered through one of the holes.
“I don’t see anything,” he said. “I think they‘ve moved on.”
“For now,” I mumbled as I raised myself out of the tub. Water dripped from my clothes as I stepped across the tiled floor.
“If they’re willing to murder people that are just near the ship, just imagine what their plans are for the people on it. My guess is they’re trying to contain the infection. So that means a distress signal was probably sent out, but instead of rescuing the ship, they’re quarantining it.”
As Finn spoke, the hope I‘d felt earlier seemed a million miles away; all that remained was anger and fear. My hands started to tremble as I thought about the people in the news chopper.
“So much for a rescue.” I said solemnly. “What should we do now?”
“We need to sit tight for a moment,” Finn replied, “just in case that helicopter or any of the others are waiting to see if we’re still alive. The gunfire probably drew a lot of those corpses our way, too. I think the best thing to do now is be patient, and quiet. Very quiet.”
My journal was sitting on the countertop next to the sink. I’d put it there earlier when I was checking to see if the water was still working. Other than a few chunks of plaster I had to brush off, it was still in one piece.
I’m so thankful it survived the onslaught of bullets. It has given me something to do while we wait, almost like an escape from the nightmare. The dread that’s engulfed the whole of this ship somehow can’t reach me when I write, and I’m learning to savor every moment of it. The hard part is looking up from the pages and realizing what I’m writing isn’t fiction.
The sight of Finn low crawling out of the bathroom probably would’ve been hilarious if we weren’t scared of being killed at any moment. He came back after a few minutes with a pile of clothes. I slipped on some dry jeans and a blue tank top as Finn put some jeans and a t-shirt on. One of his pant legs had black stuff all over it.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked, pointing to his jeans.
“It’s not from the corpses. It’s gun powder from the bullets I think. A lot of our clothes are covered in it, along with most of the cabin.”
“Speaking of the cabin, the door is still holding,” he whispered, “but just barely. One of the hinges didn’t survive the gunfire, and there are several large holes in the door itself. If those things try to get inside, it probably won’t hold for long.”
I didn’t respond. Instead I just stared vacantly at the busted remains of the bathroom door. We were so exposed and vulnerable. Only now we didn’t just have reanimated corpses to worry about, but helicopters with machine guns hovering over us as well.
We spent the remainder of the day hiding in the bathroom. Finn laid a few of the towels that weren’t singed too badly on the floor for us to lie on. It still wasn’t very comfortable, but I didn’t say anything.
/> The cabin is getting dark, and unless the power magically comes back on my writing will dwindle with the fading sunlight.
Finn and I will think of what to do tomorrow. There has to be a better option than holding up in a destroyed bathroom, waiting to be shot, or eaten…
Service Without A Smile
August 22nd
Let me start off by saying that we are no longer in our bathroom, or our cabin for that matter. With that being said, yesterday and this morning were completely horrifying.
I absolutely hate dead things that still move.
It all started when Finn shook me awake yesterday.
“We have to go, now!” he said forcefully.
I barely had time to grab my journal before he opened the bathroom door and led us through. It looked like a World War II battle had been fought in our room. The couch and bed were shredded, shards of glass and cushioning were strewn about the floor, and all that remained of the television was a crumbled pile of wire and plastic. Several of the bags Finn brought from the kitchen managed to survive. It was a good thing we’d decided to keep them on the floor. We each picked one up and made our way to the door.
“There have been explosions and gunfire nonstop for the last ten minutes. I don’t know how in the world you slept through it all,” he said. “And it sounds like it’s getting closer.”
“I think they’re attacking the top deck, or maybe the outside staterooms, I don’t know. I don’t think we should be here in case they decide to check our cabin again. We’ll be safer if we head into the interior of the ship.”
I didn’t have time to think about what Finn was saying. Before I knew it we were stepping outside the cabin and into the hallway. The emergency track lighting was off, and the corridor was eerily dark.
We hadn’t walked more than ten feet before I saw the first one. Motionless, silent, and several short yards away, was a corpse. Its back was turned to us, and all I could make out were its shoulders, which were tinged a brownish black color. A disgusting mixture of dried blood and bits of flesh clung to the frayed edges of its sleeves.
Finn put a finger to his lips and motioned for us to edge forward. I shook my head, “we can go down the other end of the hallway,” I whispered. As I spoke, I noticed Finn’s eyes widen as he pointed behind me.
I turned to see several more standing along the hallway toward the stern end of the ship. The closest was roughly fifty feet from us, but none of them were moving. My legs turned to jelly as my knees nearly buckled. Finn’s hand shot out for me to hold onto, and he leaned in toward my ear.
“We have to move forward, Lily,” he whispered softly, “I know you’re scared, so am I. It helps when I think about how slow they are. Even if they wake up we can always outrun them, okay?”
He spoke with such conviction that I actually believed him. I somehow managed to steady myself as we made our way forward, but Finn halted as we drew closer to the corpse. I could hear it breathing, or whatever it was trying to do. It was more of a sporadic, congested wheezing sound. The smell of it hit us both at the same time, and the urge to gag nearly overwhelmed me.
I watched as Finn pulled a large kitchen knife from the bag he was carrying. “I want you to keep still, and tell me if any of the ones toward the other end of the corridor move, all right?”
I nodded, determined to keep my composure. Finn tiptoed up to the corpse and raised the knife above his head. I turned so I wouldn’t see, but I heard a sickening crunch, followed by a light thud as the monster my husband just stabbed fell to the floor.
None of the other corpses seemed to notice that one of their own had fallen. I quickly looked back to see Finn waving me toward him. I desperately tried not to look down as I stepped around the rotting remains. The stench of it nearly made me vomit. Finn still held the knife in one hand as he took mine with the other. Its blade was stained black all the way to the handle.
He had to repeat the process two more times before we made it to the main promenade. Each time we drew close to one my blood ran cold. I kept thinking they’d start screaming to alert the others. I wish Finn had never told me about them.
We were making our way toward a spiral staircase that led to one of the ship’s buffets when we found our path blocked. In front of us stood the bearded corpse of a man, not unlike the others, except for its stomach. It protruded like an exaggerated beer gut, so much so that the buttons on the corpse’s Hawaiian shirt had popped.
“Wait here, and watch for any kind of movement.” Finn said firmly.
I nodded as he cautiously made his way toward the beer gutted creature. As he inched closer it started to twitch.
It wasn’t asleep.
My insides knotted as the corpse turned toward my husband.
I expected it to screech, but it didn’t. The only noise escaping its putrid lips was low and inhuman. Almost like old machine gears, grinding after years of rust.
Finn raised his bloody kitchen knife, poised to strike, but suddenly halted. Something was different about this one. It was moving extremely slow. At the rate it was inching forward it would take forever to reach my husband. Its arms slowly lifted, and I could see the same brownish black substance caked on its gnarled fingers.
The odor that emanated from the creature’s body was so repulsive I almost doubled over. It was like a grotesque mixture of rotting meat and expired milk, and as it inched closer the smell became so overpowering I thought I might faint. My nose burned, and I felt a headache coming on. Everything we’d encountered before suddenly seemed like fresh daisies compared to the corpse standing in front of us.
Finn held his nose and launched himself forward. The corpse’s arms dropped as his blade found an eye socket. It collapsed to the floor in front of him with a sloshing sound that made my stomach turn.
Finn stepped over it and peered up the stairway. Seeming satisfied that there were no other undead close by, he signaled for me to follow. I stepped over the corpse’s bulging stomach and quickly grasped my husband’s outstretched hand.
As we started to climb he dropped the putrid smelling knife and pulled a second from his waistband. We’d ditched our trash bags along the way. They were making too much noise as we moved. As much as we needed food, it wouldn’t do us any good if we were bitten. This journal was tucked snugly in my waistband against the small of my back.
Neither of us spoke as we quietly made our way up the staircase. Soon we found ourselves standing in the front of one of the ship’s many decadent eateries. We’d come in through the side door, and I could see the double doors to the main entrance were still open. There was food in the buffet lines, but most of it was in the process of turning or already spoiled. Finn and I immediately spotted a small group near the reserved seating section about thirty feet away.
We counted six of them. Six rotting corpses waiting for the chance to rip us apart.
“We don’t want to risk waking them by killing one at a time,” Finn said. “This is the same buffet I went to the other day, and unless they’ve learned how to open doors, the kitchen should still be clear.”
He pointed toward one of the buffet lines in front of us. On the other side of the line I could see a door with the words “Crew Staff Only” printed on it.
Just as we began to make our way toward the door something grabbed my arm. I turned to find myself face to face with what used to be a tall blonde woman. It must have been standing behind the door when we came in. It wore a chef’s hat with an Imperial Cruise Line logo embroidered on its front. The creature’s grip was like iron. I tried to yank my arm from its blackened fingers, but it was like trying to bend steel.
It was in that split second that I saw its stomach bulging to the point of making it look pregnant.
Then the smell hit me.
I instantly vomited all down its front. I gagged and screamed as its rotten face started to lean toward me. Its blackened teeth snapped sporadically as a pair of lifeless, dull grey eyes bore into mine.
It’s a h
orrible feeling, wondering how your life will end. Even worse is actually knowing. I was going to die at the hands of an undead corpse, during what was supposed to be the happiest time of my life.
In my terror I’d forgotten about Finn, and the fact that he had a weapon. He came down on the corpse’s arm and sliced it clean off from the elbow. I almost fell backward as the hand released its grip and fell to the floor. Finn didn’t hesitate, and I watched as he plunged the knife into the former chef’s temple. I felt dizzy as I watched its lifeless form crumble to the floor next to the severed arm. A dark, tar like liquid oozed out of its wounds as I stared in horror.
“Lily!” Finn yelled as he grabbed my chin and locked eyes with me. “We have to go now!”
I nodded as the smell nearly made me get sick again.
We made our way to the end of the nearest buffet lane. My screams had awoken the group we’d spotted earlier, and they’d closed most of the distance between us. They reached through the opposite side of the buffet, their fingertips brushing against us as we reached the kitchen door. Finn turned the handle and kicked the heavy door inward just as one started to climb under the display glass.
Undead Honeymoon Page 6