Then the sound cut out.
Steve depressed the send button. “Adam? Is that you? Over.”
The line opened again to the sounds of pandemonium and the voice whispered, “Yes, it’s me, Adam. Over.”
A cold line painted itself down Steve’s back and he stared with sudden suspicion at the walkie-talkie. His gut churned with acidic bile. Carl gave him an odd look and took the walkie-talkie from his hand.
“Adam, what’s your situation? Over.”
The line opened again and the distant screams seemed to go on and on. They all listened intently. Steve opened his mouth to say something, some word of caution, when the voice came again. It seemed to slink out of the walkie’s small speaker.
“It’s…it’s bad over here. The sinkers got on board, somehow, and they’re…they’re killing everyone. It’s terrible.”
The walkie cut off again and they stared at each other. Brian had wandered to the railing facing Flyboy.
Steve’s stomach clenched at the word ‘sinkers’ and he had to swallow an obstruction that was trying to block his throat. Beside him, Maggie grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He glanced at her and her eyes were black with an emotion he couldn’t read.
Carl had noticed the speaker’s voice break on the word ‘terrible.’ It was almost as though…as though he’d begun laughing. But that made no sense. It had probably been the beginning of a sob. That was much more likely.
“Adam, we’re coming to help. Stay hidden, do what you have to do. Are you somewhere safe now? Over.”
“I’m on the bridge deck, the captain’s deck. The door is bolted behind me. I can see…I can see…everything.” The last word was drawn out, almost breathed across the line to them.
He’s exhausted, Carl thought. He’s barely hanging on.
“Okay, hang in there, Adam. We’re on our way. Over and out.”
Carl straightened and turned to Steve.
“I’ll raise some guys from Big Daddy and we’ll–”
“Don’t go over there.”
The voice was tiny but drilling and coming from the dark salon, it startled them all.
It was Babygirl, Samantha, and she stepped onto the deck. She was in a white nightgown that fell to her ankles and it rustled prettily in the breeze. He eyes were open but unseeing, her hands hung limp at her sides.
“You’ll die over there,” she said.
“Sam? Samantha, honey, where did you go?” Candy’s voice floated out of the salon doors and then Candy was behind Samantha, a relieved smile on her face. “Sammy, baby, don’t wander–”
Samantha swooned and Candy caught her as she fell.
“Sammy!” Candy said, her voice snapping with alarm.
Sammy blinked and looked up. “Hi, Candy,” she said.
Candy smiled. “Hi, Babygirl, you okay?”
“I’m okay, why?” Then she seemed to notice where she was and she looked around, confused but not frightened. “How did I get out here?”
Steve and Carl looked at each other and Steve shook his head, as though he, too, was just now coming awake.
“Ring up Dave on Big Daddy. Tell him bring at least eight guys and every gun they can carry, plus the flares. Everyone who can, bring a two-man ski so we can pick up anyone who goes overboard.” He had a recollection of Singer stepping off the dock back when they’d gone ashore to bury Mrs. Allen, but the water was deeper here, there was less chance of a sinker getting a hold of you. “It will be best if we can get Flyboy cleared of sinkers. Better than bringing people back here or to Big Daddy. We don’t want all the boats compromised. I’ll tow the rowboat behind my jet and–”
“Don’t do it,” Maggie’s voice was like a whip crack. “Don’t go over there.”
“Maggie, we have to. If Adam is okay then other people will be, too. I don’t know how Jade got over there, but it doesn’t matter, now.” He felt an uncomfortable shift when he said that, but he dismissed it and pressed on anyway. “We can save the people who aren’t bit. We have to, Maggie. You know that.”
She stared into his eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know it. Let’s just pick up and sail further away.” Her hands gripped his and he could feel her nails digging in. “We can just go.”
He stared at her, open mouthed in surprise. He didn’t know what to say.
“Steve, listen to me,” she said and leaned close. “If they were able, they would have abandoned ship. Anyone who was okay could have jumped to safety, but they haven’t! It’s a lost cause. We should just get as far from here as possible.”
Steve shook his head, a vision of Amelia lying in the woods, struggling to get up, flashed into his mind. Screams came across the water from Flyboy, faint and ghostly. “No. I’m not leaving anyone behind.”
She stepped away from him, dropping her hands.
“Maggie? I have to go over there.”
She turned away, giving him her back. He felt himself crumbling inside, wanting to give in to her, but he turned instead, and addressed Carl.
“Let’s get a move on.”
~ ~ ~
Randy tied off the line on the medium sized rowboat, then he tugged it hard, making sure it was secure to Steve’s jet ski.
“That’ll hold. You could get ten, maybe twelve people in here, if you’re careful. I don’t know if you should do more than that.” He stood with hands on hips and his face screwed into lines of concern. “I’ll come with you. If you think–”
“Randy! You won’t!” Bonnie stood on deck, wringing her hands together. Randy’s eyes never left Steve’s, but Steve shook his head.
“I want you and Brian here. I’m going to get two or three guys from Big Daddy to come over, too. And listen, if we come back,” he glanced up at Maggie, but she was at the railing, her back to him. Her posture was tense, listening. “When we come back…everyone who comes back will need to be checked…everyone. You can’t let anyone with a bite or a new scratch on ThreeBees. Okay?”
Randy nodded and stepped back. “Yeah, I hear you.”
There was another gunshot from Flyboy and they all flinched. Distantly, they heard a small contingent of jet skis start up near Big Daddy. Steve looked at Maggie one more time and then keyed his jet ski to life. Carl did the same on his.
They started away, Steve going slowly to keep the rowboat from jerking on the line. He glanced at Maggie once more and then faced forward and tried to clear his mind. The line to the rowboat payed out behind him, loop over loop.
“Maggie! Don’t!” Randy shouted, his voice shocked alarm. Steve looked back in time to see as Maggie pushed past Randy and jumped into the rowboat. Steve released the throttle and turned in his seat.
She stared hard at him and then smiled; it was tremulous and sad, almost resigned, and she waved for him to go. “I’m going with you!”
“You should stay here, Maggie. You’re a nurse. It’s important that–”
But she was shaking her head. “Dr. Rafiq is here, he can do it!” She gestured to where Sami stood on deck next to Candy and Samantha. “I’m going with you and Carl. I might be needed over there more!”
He hesitated, considering. “Are you sure?” Steve called back and Maggie nodded. He gazed at her a moment longer and then throttled up and fell into line behind Carl.
They started off into the night.
Chapter Fourteen
Maggie grabbed the sides of the rowboat to steady herself. Her insides were quaking and it wasn’t from incipient seasickness. The strong, salty breeze felt good and she lifted her face to it, taking a deep breath and let it push the hair back from her eyes.
She felt she was seeing everything very clearly.
She pictured Candy and Samantha and knew that somehow, Candy was meant to be Samantha’s protector. Maggie–whose feelings had been ambiguous at best about the added responsibility–had only been a substitute, a temporary guardian. And a poor one, at that. Candy was younger and stronger; she’d be a real mother to Samantha.
Maggie looked at Stev
e’s back. Only two months had gone by since the end of the first life and the beginning of this second, scarier one–but it felt like longer; it felt like years. Could she be forgiven for admitting her love for Steve? And who, now, would do the forgiving? Who was left to judge?
No one. No one at all.
She’d been selfish–she’d already admitted that to herself–and it was time to redeem herself, if only to herself. She’d stick this out with him and hope for the best. It felt right, and it felt better than cowering in the kitchen, ignoring every pounding on the door…pounding that might have been Joe? In the depths of her terror…had she been too frozen to let her own husband in? She will take that uncertainty to her grave.
Maggie brushed tears from her eyes that might have been caused by the wind and resolved that she won’t think about it again. It’s done…whatever else might occur, that part of life was gone.
It was time to let the past die.
Steve throttled down as they approached the back of Flyboy and then cut the engine altogether. Other jet skis sat silent in a rough semi-circle, the drivers’ eyes wide and glittering in the dark. The random screams and thuds continued on the main deck above them and each burst of noise caused a fresh ripple of unease to pass through the riders.
Steve turned in his seat and pulled the line to the rowboat hand over hand, bringing Maggie right up next to the jet. “I want you to take over this jet ski and circle Flyboy…in case anyone goes overboard.”
She shook her head. “I’m coming with you. Onto Flyboy.”
“Maggie, listen–”
“I won’t,” she said, cutting him off and then she smiled a brief, nervous smile. “I won’t listen. I’m coming with you. Please don’t waste time arguing.” She smiled again and this time it was warmer, calm with certitude.
It took everything in him to quell his protest and he simply nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.” His eyes searched hers, filled with concern, grief, love…love most of all.
She nodded again and Steve turned, looking at the men in a searching way and then his eyes landed on the person he was looking for.
“Dave, I want you to take this jet ski and circle. Pick up anyone who is capable of climbing in the rowboat. But don’t get near them, okay? No matter what. And don’t take them to Big Daddy or ThreeBees. Keep them in the rowboat until we get Flyboy cleared. Got it?”
Dave nodded and maneuvered his two-person jet ski up to the rowboat and Maggie climbed aboard. Then Dave and Steve changed places.
“Good luck. See you in a few,” Dave said and throttled slowly away into the dark. The rowboat bumping along behind him made him look nostalgic, almost melancholy, like a child pulling an empty wagon.
Steve had the sudden feeling that it was all about to go very, very wrong. Finally he tore his eyes away from Dave and faced the group.
“Okay. Let’s roll on up there.”
They docked by twos and tied the jet skis to the back of Flyboy. There wasn’t enough room to tie them all off, so they ended up tying them to each other. Finally they were all crouched in a line on the platform that ran across the back of the boat that gave onto the back deck.
Steve had given them each instructions on which area to hit along with the explicit warning to shoot for the heads of the sinkers…that seemed to drop them the fastest. He and Maggie and Carl would take the bridge and the bridge deck, see if Adam was still up there. He was the only one they knew for sure who was still alive and well. At least until his walkie-talkie had cut out.
He looked at each face again and was heartened by the resolve he saw there. Maybe it would be okay after all. It’s not as though the sinkers were smart or strategic. This small contingent should be able to restore the ship to order in less than fifteen minutes. Flyboy was big, but she wasn’t the size of a cruise ship for Christ’s sweet sake.
“Okay, let’s–” Steve’s command was cut off midway as a body lurched off the back deck, landing directly on Kyle, one of the youngest guys from Big Daddy. Kyle was forced to his knees from the impact and quick as lightning, the sinker wrapped its arms around Kyle’s mid-section, its mouth yawning wide. Kyle tried to stand, but he was unbalanced. Then the sinker’s teeth found his bare wrist and they tumbled together into the water. They sank in a boil of furious bubbles before Kyle had even had a chance to scream.
Everyone stared at the water, shocked. One man began to stand, as if to jump in after Kyle, but his neighbor restrained him. It was too late to help Kyle. They’d all seen the thing sink its teeth in the poor kid’s wrist. There was no coming back from a bite.
Steve’s eyes met Maggie’s and he saw the tears trembling at her lower lids. Her eyes were round and shocked. He put a hand to her cheek. “You okay?” he said, just loud enough for her, and she nodded. He leaned over and kissed her once then leaned in and kissed her again, longer. When he pulled back, her eyes were closed. “Here we go,” he said, still only for her and her eyes opened. She smiled.
“Here we go,” she said and turned to face the back deck of Flyboy.
Steve popped his head up over the edge. From this vantage point, he could survey the whole deck. There was a bundle about halfway across, possibly a person. It was hard to tell in the blue moonlight. There were still muffled screams from below where the rooms and the engine were located, but his deck was quiet.
Steve motioned everybody up and they scrambled onto the deck and fanned out, headed for the stairs on either side that would take them to the next deck. Steve stood one minute more watching them disappear, then he checked for Carl and Maggie and they trotted quickly across the deck. They were almost there when Maggie heard a low moan from behind them.
She stopped short, turning, searching for the source of the sound. It could have been one of the undead or it could be a survivor with an injury–there was no way to tell until she located the source of the moaning. Steve and Carl had stopped, too, and now they stared at her quizzically. She cupped a hand to her ear and tilted her head…listen…the low moan came again and this time, she could tell it was coming from behind one of the large, hard plastic boxes that sat on deck and held all sorts of boat equipment. She began to move toward it and Steve grabbed her hand and mouthed: wait.
She turned back to him and shook her head in confusion and then she heard a wet, dragging noise coming from the spot where she’d heard the moan. The hair went up on the back of her neck and she turned.
A white, bloodless hand appeared from behind the deck box, waving spasmodically. Then it slapped onto the deck. It seemed to brace itself, straining, and then the wet, dragging noise came again. A shock of blond hair appeared from behind the box and the arm was bent almost double, elbow sticking straight up into the air. Then the arm straightened out again, waved in the air like a bug antennae, and slapped down flat on the deck.
The arm braced itself again and then the head began to move and Maggie realized this person was dragging themselves forward on one arm. Her heart leapt with pity, and she started toward it, but Steve restrained her again.
Then the face began to appear. Maggie put her hands over her mouth to hold back a scream.
Where its eyes should have been there was a chewed, blackish cavity and its lips were gone. It grinned like a skull, teeth shining whitely in the moonlight. Between the eyeless cavity and grinning teeth, the nose sat untouched. There was a small diamond in the side of one nostril and it glittered surreally. The arm performed its complicated maneuver once more and it dragged itself further out and now they could all see that it was really just an arm and a head attached at one shoulder, trailing muscle and gore and bits of a ringed tube that Maggie identified automatically as its throat–the rest of it was gone.
It moaned again and a small whimper escaped Maggie’s throat. The arm changed course mid-air and angled toward the three of them. It knew they were there.
Carl stepped forward, drawing a knife from his belt, and in one swift movement, he bent down and jammed the knife into the cavity that had once held e
yes and into the brain behind. The knife sunk to the hilt and the arm spasmed sharply and then collapsed onto the deck, becoming still.
Steve and Maggie looked at Carl wide-eyed. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows. Steve looked once more at the now dead undead lying on the deck and turned away, taking Maggie’s hand in his.
He clapped Carl on the shoulder, albeit with a shaking hand.
They ascended the stairs to the next deck. This one was smaller and ringed with once fancy deck chairs. A large glass doorway led to the main salon, dining room and kitchen (galley, Maggie reminded herself). A shadow rushed past behind the door and Maggie gasped and took a panicked step back, her ass hitting the rail. She pinwheeled her arms and Steve grabbed her around the waist and steadied her.
Another shadow flitted past, and then another. It was almost like watching fish in a darkened tank. But those weren’t fish, Maggie reminded herself.
“Should we…” She let her question trail off and Steve shook his head.
“No, let’s get to the bridge. We have to help Adam, if he’s still up there.”
They ascended one more deck to the bridge. The door was closed but not locked and Steve turned the handle and opened it slowly, pushing inward. He scanned the room. It was dark, but there wasn’t too much to try and see past, just the captain’s chair and a seat on either side for crew. A curved bank of screens like blind eyes sat above a board of complicated dials and instruments. It was dark on the bridge, but there were no extra-shadowy corners or hidden crevices, and a sinker would never purposely hide, anyway. They weren’t capable of either forethought or deception.
“Adam,” Steve said, his voice a rough whisper. “You in here?”
No answer.
He moved to the door behind the chairs that gave out onto the smallest top deck, the observation deck. This door wasn’t locked, either. He pulled it open. “Adam? Are you out here? Adam?”
He turned and motioned Carl and Maggie to move past him out onto the observation deck. “This will give us a good vantage point…we can see the lower decks from up here.” He followed after them, closing the door again.
The Boat Page 18