by Joshua Grant
“I’m at half,” Mac reported, reinserting the clip into his gun.
“A fourth,” Julian said grimly.
They looked at Aubrey who simply shook her head, holding up the empty pistol.
WHAM! The door was forced open half a foot. The thing’s ungodly moans leaked through. It knew it was close. It was excited.
It can’t end like this! It can’t! Aubrey looked around for some exit they might have missed. Something, anything that could help them. Her eyes settled on the glint of something shiny, her heartrate quickening. It won’t end like this! she decided and moved for the object that had caught her attention.
“Here!”
The others managed to tear their gaze away from the failing barricade. “Geez Doc. I know things are tough but now’s not really the time for a drink,” Mac muttered in disbelief.
She ignored him, moving to the countertop and the two glass bottles that adorned it. They were wine bottles, sure, but no spirits filled them. Within was a darker brew, one not meant for human consumption. Sticking from this and extending out the top like some droopy flower was a small tuft of rag.
“I’ll be damned,” Julian said, a genuine grin sliding across his face like a fishhook that had caught a smile. Someone had been attempting to make Molotov cocktails when the shit hit the fan. Now they had two makeshift bombs at their disposal. How they had survived was beyond Aubrey. Frankly, she didn’t care. She was going to shove them down Not-Sasha’s groaning throat.
“Back! Behind the counter!” she ordered Gabe who looked confused but complied anyway.
“We’ll draw it in,” Julian informed, tapping his gun. Aubrey nodded, snatching up the bottles and taking up position by a nearby stove.
“Whoa, what do you mean we?” Mac protested. Everyone stared at him pointedly. He sighed, “Sure, yeah, I’ll be monster bait. Not like they haven’t already gotten a taste of me or anything.”
“Just don’t miss Doctor,” Julian implored, taking up position next to Mac a few feet from the battered door.
“Hands of a surgeon,” she assured. “Besides, I played softball in high school.”
“Oh good, she played softball in high school,” Mac groused. “I used to do cheer in high school. Maybe I should go behind the counter—“
WHAM!
“It’s coming!” Julian called.
The creature was practically through the door in the time it took him to say it. The swinging metal barricade came off a hinge and twisted sideways giving a partial glimpse of the squirming nightmare. The shelf slid once more. One more hit and—
“Gabe, grab the extinguisher!” Aubrey commanded.
The boy moved to the wall-mounted suppressant. There was no sense in burning down the whole ship just to kill one monster. Aubrey’s sweaty grip didn’t loosen on the smooth glass vials. She couldn’t afford to drop even one of them. She cranked the dial on the stove and was relieved to find a small puff of flame emerge from the burner basin. She would have to time this just right. She’d seen plenty of war movies where the guy went to throw the Molotov and ended up bursting into flames instead. Right, no pressure. No sweat at all. Who the fuck am I kidding?
WHAM!
The door exploded inward and hell followed with it. Sasha spidered over the shelf, his reverse limbs somehow navigating the tripping hazard nimbly. Olga was no longer with it. The tentacle binding her must have been severed in the firefight leading to the kitchen, a small relief. Aubrey was once again awakened from her shock by the deafening sounds of gunfire. She dipped the cloth into the pilot light and was happy to see it catch.
“Hurry Aubrey!” she heard Julian scream.
She wouldn’t have time to aim. The creature was too quick. She visualized the room, where it was, where she had to throw. The fire curled up the rag hungry for the gasoline that would give it life.
“Aubrey!”
Now! She swiveled and launched the incendiary in one swift motion—
--except the creature wasn’t where it should have been. The bottle shattered to the floor mere feet behind the Sasha thing and erupted into a grand fireball whose heat prickled her face even back here. The creature squealed hatefully despite having escaped death. It was threatened now and therefore more dangerous. And Aubrey only had one more shot at this.
She lit the next one without wasting a breath.
“Aubrey!”
“I know!” she bit back. Fire trickled up the cloth in what felt like slow motion.
“It’s going for Gabe!”
Icy fingers snatched at her heart, squeezing it. She risked a glimpse over her shoulder. Sasha’s head had twisted sideways. Its bent body moved that way without turning. It didn’t seem to care that it was being riddled with bullets as it vaulted over the silver counter. Gabe scrambled backwards but his foot snagged on a discarded pan and he fell, aided by the weight of the extinguisher.
No! Aubrey looked back at her bomb. Almost there! Come on! COME ON!
Now!
She turned and launched it. Gabe might have been too close. It might have been too late. And if she missed—
WHOOM!
The Molotov connected with Sasha’s ribcage. Flaming glass shards shot everywhere trailing fire wherever they went like fairies intent on arson. The creature was instantly enveloped in the roiling fireball. It squealed, this time in immense pain, its burning tentacles beating the four hundred degree air in a futile attempt to put themselves out. Sasha’s screaming face bubbled and elongated as it began to melt, as the thing’s burnt flesh slid wetly to the floor and its tentacles grew still, all the hateful life sucked out of them.
Aubrey rushed forward, searching, refusing to breathe—
--and there Gabe was, emerging from behind the smoldering mess, the extinguisher dangling in one hand!
“That was close,” he said simply, innocently, so unfazed by the fact he had nearly been ripped to ribbons it made her want to cry--
--actually Aubrey was crying, was rushing forward, snatching him up in the tightest hug she had given anybody since Jen passed. Seconds crawled to the tune of crackling monster meat. Finally, she released him. He was smiling. God she loved that smile, unbeatable in the face of this dark crappy place.
“Should I do it?” he inquired, hoisting the extinguisher. He seemed eager. What kid didn’t want to blast something with fire suppressant?
But Aubrey shook her head.
“No, let it burn.” She watched, her glare poisonous, as the last of the tentacles caved into the bubbling pile, her hatred pouring in with them, collapsing into a deep fatigue. “Let it burn, just a little longer.”
Chapter 20
Deck 6, The Midsummer Night’s Dream
They found Olga a short distance from the kitchen door. She was face down and motionless, the creature’s torn tentacle still coiled around her wrist despite being severed. Aubrey felt a surge of anger. She wished she could burn it all over again. They had let it smolder for a minute just to be sure it was really dead. It was just a stinking mess now in the middle of the kitchen, all resemblance to the human being it used to be washed away by purifying flame. Was this their fate? Were they all going to go out like that? And the one on the bridge, was that once human too, someone with a family, with kids, hell, with a face!?
Her anger was quickly replaced with sadness as she hastened to Olga’s side. Who, or what, could have been responsible for all this? The casual brutality of it—how could anyone be so cruel? She traced the red smear on the marble leading up to Olga’s motionless body.
“You okay?”
Aubrey jumped at Julian’s comforting hand on her shoulder. It was warm and good, as were his eyes.
She sighed. How was she supposed to answer that? Were any of them okay? Would they ever be again?
“It’s just, that kid has been here a whole week,” she cast a glance back at Gabe who Mac had taken to the side in an attempt to shield him from Olga’s body. “What things did he have to see? No kid should have to go throu
gh that.”
Julian nodded, his own eyes looking about as haunted as hers probably did, and she suddenly wanted to bury her head in his chest, to feel his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her safe against the harsh cold of this world. She knew it was just stress, the same reason people hooked up at funerals, but with Julian it felt deeper. He actually seemed to really care. In any case, it was a nice fantasy. Would make for an awkward story for the grandkids though. Your grandfather and I fell for each other standing over the corpse of our friend.
Aubrey looked down at poor Olga. She knelt, dreading the next thirty seconds. Bracing herself, fighting back against the lump swelling in her throat, she grabbed Olga’s still warm shoulders and rolled—
--Olga’s body spasmed, a wet cough launching a spray of blood from her lips.
“She’s still alive!” Aubrey gasped.
Julian was down on a knee in an instant helping to hold her steady. “Easy Olga. Easy. You need to stay still,” he soothed though his voice was firm. Aubrey could detect the slight quaver in it. He could see just as clearly how bad it was. A ragged hole spurted blood from Olga’s side, wetting the tile floor with more red. She was wheezing, choking, trying to form words.
“Don’t try to talk,” Aubrey instructed. Her hands were already over the wound applying pressure. Scalding hot blood shot between her fingers. “We’ve gotta staunch the bleeding. I need a rag or table cloth.” Her voice sounded desperate, as desperate as she felt. Olga didn’t even have minutes if something wasn’t done quick.
The Russian woman’s unbroken hand reached up and clasped Aubrey’s sleeve weakly. She was muttering, mostly incoherently, much of it in Russian.
“Come on, get me a cloth!” Aubrey spat. She looked at Julian when she realized he wasn’t moving. His hard eyes told her everything she needed to know. Pain socked her in the gut. She lowered her eyes back to the stammering Olga. The woman looked terrified, desperate.
Aubrey managed to muster up a smile, her face feeling like clay, the rest of her as hollow and dead as the Emerald Rose. “I’m right here Olga. It’s gonna be okay.”
Olga pawed at Aubrey, her voice becoming more frantic.
The lump in Aubrey’s throat swelled painfully. “It’s gonna be okay,” she managed to repeat, the haunting words coming back to her. She had been here before and it most certainly wasn’t going to be okay. She swallowed against the lump. “It’s gonna be—“
Olga’s English finally slipped through, her voice panicked and desperate. “Traitor,” she spat, choking for a second, trying to get another word out, the effort looking painful. “Traitor!”
Aubrey looked at Julian who stared hard back at her. What did that mean? The doctor in Aubrey told her that the woman’s shock-addled synapses were starting to randomly fire in the throes of oncoming death. She was probably remembering something from her past, the whole ‘life flashing before your eyes’ thing.
“It’s me Olga, Aubrey,” she comforted. “You’re safe. I’m right here. We all are.”
Olga’s eyes went wider somehow. “No. Not him! Don’t let him near me! I don’t want him near me!”
The curiosity burned through the pain of watching another human being die right in front of her. “Who? Sasha?”
Olga coughed violently, trying to shake her head. She laid back on the tile, so still Aubrey was afraid that was it, but then she spoke again, wet and throaty, and weak too. “Not Sasha. Not my husband. Jura.”
She was trailing off, slipping. Julian stepped in. “Jura is safe Olga. He isn’t here. He’s far away, safe.”
Olga’s glassy eyes bobbed, fluttering—
--then opened, cutting Aubrey with a stare so clear she’d be haunted by it forever. “Konesco. Don’t trust him. He’s a traitor! He wants to kill us all! He’s a—“
Her face froze, relaxed a bit, and then she was still. No more blood spurted from her side.
Aubrey stared back, blinking, an impenetrable silence settling over them. She didn’t dare look at Julian or anyone else. It would only take a quick glance, a sympathetic look, to break through her defense, to release the flood waters that had been building there. They sat there in silence for what seemed like forever.
Was Olga crazy? Was her mind going as it stepped into the next world? Or was Carver right about the traitor in their midst? As if things weren’t bad enough as it was.
“So now what do we do?” Mac asked quietly.
He and Gabe had joined them at some point. Aubrey finally looked up. Why was he asking her? What the hell was she supposed to tell him? Their chopper was gone. Half their team was dead. If what Olga said was true, their captain had gone rogue for reasons beyond her. And we’re sinking. We’re sinking in a ship full of honest to God monsters.
Aubrey blinked in surprise, something hitting her, another piece of the puzzle she found on the carpet and wasn’t sure fit.
“Why hasn’t this spread?” she muttered.
“What?” Julian broke his stare away from Olga’s corpse. He looked just as tired as she did.
“This…whatever it is. Why hasn’t it spread from this ship? Why’s it not in our cities? This virus or whatever, clearly it’s versatile. It can take many forms—“
“You’ve seen more of them?” Julian cut in. His bright eyes bore into her, but they were looking elsewhere at something they had seen and wished they hadn’t. Clearly Sasha wasn’t his first fucked up rodeo either.
Aubrey nodded. “Yeah, on the bridge. It almost got Mac and then it—“
She stopped, remembering the feel of its touch, the embryo it implanted on her back. She wanted to break down again, her crawling skin itching at the spot, and abruptly decided to change the subject. “That one was a flier, so why haven’t these things flown away from here? Any virus solely wants to replicate itself in a new host. This ship is a deathtrap for that kind of organism. Why hasn’t it left for the mainland?”
Julian shifted, clearly disturbed by her words, as if that had been at the forefront of his thoughts as well. “You’re assuming it thinks,” he countered. “For all we know it’s just reactionary, like a jellyfish or a plant.”
Something told her that he didn’t believe that, but it was a valid point. It didn’t really explain the journals though, or the ship’s strange ability to avoid the search crews. No, something more was going on here. This wasn’t some newly discovered organism to be studied on National Geographic. It had a mind, and a heart blacker than sin.
“It thinks,” Gabe whispered, apparently agreeing with her. All eyes shifted to him. “It thinks all the time, only about one thing: us. It wants us.” He was staring down at Olga’s body. “Not just our bodies but our souls too.”
Again silence.
“Thanks for that kid. You can just rock me to sleep from now on,” Mac grumbled sarcastically.
“You don’t believe me?” Gabe burst suddenly. “Look at where it’s taking us. Land. The white shirts knew it. That’s why they tried to sink the ship. But they failed. We’re going to crash into shore and it’s going to get out. It’s been trying to ever since it killed everyone. I see them on the deck, the ones with wings. They try to fly but they can’t. But it’s only a matter of time. It’s going to crash us and then it’s going to do the same thing to the world that it did to this ship. That it did to my—“
The words caught in his throat, his eyes reddening as he choked on them. Aubrey slid next to him and he immediately collapsed into her arms. This shit show was officially getting to her, to them all.
“Oh that’s just great,” Mac stammered, a nervous energy building in his eyes. Aubrey stared at him with mounting worry. He wasn’t exactly in the best state to receive bad news and she really didn’t need their only tech expert flying off the deep end when they needed a plan. “Just great. I’m glad we have the little ray of sunshine along. And we’re sinking!? Glad someone shared that little tidbit with me!”
“You didn’t need to know at the time,” Julian said evenly. He too
was watching Mac carefully.
Mac put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, excuse me. I can see now why it’s important to leave the one guy who actually knows something about the ship in the dark about this. No-no, you grunts should keep those things to yourself from now on.”
Julian’s face reddened and Aubrey quickly cut him off. “This isn’t helping,” she stated firmly, nodding at Olga. “They’re dead, the rest of the team, the rest of this ship, and unless we want to join them then we’d better think of something.”
The two men stared knives at one another. “You’re right,” Julian conceded. “We need a new plan and some place to hold up while we carry it out. Any ideas Mac?”
“Yeah, Hawaii but somehow I don’t think that is going to happen,” the tech muttered. “I mean, the hold out plan ain’t exactly working. We tried that and…”
He gestured to Olga. Aubrey felt her face warming this time. “That’s not your fault Mac,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice even. “And no one else is going to end up like that. Now a place, somewhere safe, or as close to it as you can get—“
“Yeah, okay Doc, I’ve got your place.” He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. Mac looked so tired. They all did. “It’s a good spot. Give us a chance to think. Provided of course we make it there in one piece. And provided—“
“Provided we all keep a level head,” Aubrey said pointedly. “These things are obviously smart, and they probably know we’re onto them. That makes them dangerous. We have to be smarter and we all have to stick together if any of us are going to make it out of this. Okay?”
The others slowly nodded.
“Okay,” she said as if convincing herself that this was something they could actually do. Because if she had to be honest with herself, she wasn’t so sure, and she was scared out of her damned mind that they’d all end up like Olga. Or the others, something she didn’t even want to think about, couldn’t, not with everything they still had to do. Maybe honesty wasn’t the best policy, not today.