Pandora

by Joshua Grant

  “Hey Julian.”

  He turned back quickly, so happy to hear her voice, its kindness the only good thing still left in this hellhole. Gabe had already moved into the stairwell with her.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  He smiled as if she just gave him the big ‘I do.’ “I’ll see you in a second.”

  She returned his smile. “That one’s for free. The next one’s gonna cost you.” There was a long pause and then she slipped through the opening, the wooden door sealing behind her.

  Julian was once again alone, but this time fire and adrenaline scoured through his veins. He turned to face the black hole of flesh.

  Okay Watcher. You gutted my friends. Now let’s see what you’re made of.

  Chapter 29

  Stairwell, Aft

  The trip up the stairwell was quiet, a little too quiet for Aubrey’s taste if she had to be cliché about it. Not that she was complaining or anything. She liked not being hunted by nasty things. The place was just eerily dead. Julian’s monster was nowhere to be found and so far they didn’t have to book it from an army of mutant dogs. The only sign of anything amiss was a busted in door on Deck 7 and the distant gurgling of sea water below. Good, right?

  So why am I so uneasy?

  She should have been able to come up with a million reasons but it really just boiled down to one. It was quiet. The empty stairwell wasn’t the silence that bugged her the most. She cast a discreet sidelong glance at Gabe. The boy followed faithfully, but his expression remained neutral and empty offering no clues as to what he was feeling.

  And again Aubrey felt the boiling frustration at herself for not being able to think of the right words to share with him, to comfort him and draw him out of this nightmare. Part of her felt that Julian chose the easier task out of the two.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted at once, her voice hoarse from the silence and the salt burn of moments ago. Gabe looked at her, raising a brow but saying nothing. “I’m sorry I didn’t come with you earlier.”

  Gabe seemed to contemplate this, then nodded slowly. Aubrey felt so relieved she could cry. He didn’t blame her. But he should, she thought angrily. She blamed herself so why shouldn’t he? He had almost gotten killed! What would she have done if that happened?

  Aubrey decided she didn’t want to think about it. Right, change of subject now that we have a roaring conversation going. “So you don’t know how to swim, huh?” She smiled at him, hoping he’d detect her teasing tone.

  “It’s not so much that,” he replied, his dry tone draining her smile once more. “It’s just, last time I was on Deck 0, the white shirts were trying to sink the ship. I almost died.”

  Aubrey turned her focus forward. Damn this ship. Maybe silence wasn’t all that bad after all. They could all talk this out in the thousands of hours of therapy they’d probably need when this was through.

  “Here we are,” she announced. “End of the line. Lido Deck.”

  They had somehow reached the top landing without incident. The door before them would open out onto the aft Lido where this whole dark journey began. From there it would be a quick jaunt up a metal staircase to the smokestack and from there—well, who knew? Aubrey wasn’t an engineer but she used to help her father fix up old trucks and knew how to do more than just solitaire with a computer. She was fairly confident she’d be able to recognize whether the escape pod was broken or not.

  And if it is broken? Well, there was always jumping. Even if Gabe couldn’t swim, she’d get him off this ship somehow.

  “They’re gonna be out there waiting for us, aren’t they?” Gabe asked, the fear in his voice evident and heartbreaking.

  Aubrey briefly considered lying to him, but by now there was little point. He had seen more action than even the most seasoned soldier. He deserved to know the truth, no matter how bleak it was. Besides, he was smart enough to know if she was lying. “Maybe. Probably.” She licked her lips and checked to make sure the safety was off on her pistol for the umpteenth time. ‘Definitely’ was more like it. If this thing could absorb the thoughts or even souls of the dead, it knew all about their plan from Konesco and Mac, or even the ship’s captain. There was likely an army waiting for them just on the other side of this door.

  Dammit, why didn’t we all go together?

  Aubrey almost jumped when Gabe took her free hand. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  Her eyes met his, so trusting and kind, and somehow she felt that everything was going to be okay. She smiled another genuine smile, a smile she would replicate soon when they were reunited with Julian. “Right back atcha kiddo.” She took a deep, calming breath in an attempt to steady her nerves, or if nothing else, her aim. Didn’t work, but it was a nice thought. “Stay close, and don’t run away this time. Here we go.”

  She pulled open the hatch door which screeched loudly. It didn’t matter. They were through it in a heartbeat, their feet beating against the Lido’s wooden slats as they attempted to get their bearings. Thankfully, some of the deck’s running lights were still functioning, illuminating the banged up Lido she remembered seeing earlier. This time instead of a backdrop of smoky white, the ocean was a canvas of pure black. Time really flew when you were running for your life in terror.

  Aubrey felt the last several hours pressing in on her. She was going to sleep for a week. Not if you don’t focus. She quickly blinked away the fatigue and scanned over the deck, but unless Watcher was mimicking discarded deck furniture now, everything was clear.

  “C’mon.”

  They traced along the white painted wall of the deckhouse towards a blocked off metal staircase that led up. The half gate was marked “Do not enter—Ship personnel only” in about a dozen different languages. It should have read “Secret escape in case of monster infestation or catastrophic ship explosion.” Aubrey would put it past Carver when she had a neat little talk with him.

  They hopped the barrier easily enough. During normal business hours, there would be someone stationed up here to stop them. Now there was no one, just a bunch of expensive looking radar equipment, a cleverly disguised smokestack that stretched up into the black, and a door inviting them in.

  “Careful,” Aubrey whispered, stepping in front of Gabe as they slowly approached the door. Something was very wrong, well more wrong than it should have been. But what?

  Aubrey felt watched as they traversed the short distance to the entrance. If this was a trap, Watcher was taking its sweet ass time. The door was bulky and metal. She traced her eyes down its frame.

  Shit.

  A small black box was embedded about halfway down. A card reader. Likely the Captain’s keycard was needed to access the room. The very damn keycard they didn’t have time to look for before and really didn’t have time to find now! Julian’s going to blow the place at any second! Aubrey fought against the well of panic that was boiling up in her. What the hell were they going to do?

  “It’s open,” Gabe stated, pointing.

  Aubrey almost didn’t hear him, but as she traced her eyes to where he was pointing she saw that the door was indeed open. It had been wedged ajar with a shattered table leg. But who the hell opened it and what the hell for? Her stomach settled back into the pool of cold dread it had been basting in all night. Whoever was in there, they were in for a rude awakening if they tried to stop her.

  Before she could protest, Gabe put his hands in the crack and pried the heavy door back. Aubrey levelled her pistol. Beyond the entrance was a darkened circular room. The less decorated portion of the smokestack dominated its center, a large cast iron pipe flanked on either side by two curved metal objects.

  “That’s it!” Gabe sprang forward into the opening, heading for one of the sleek theme park ride looking escape pods.

  “Gabe!” Dammit! Aubrey rushed in after him, doing her best to keep the room covered while scrambling to catch up.

  The boy vaulted the half staircase that led up to a metal cage platform ringing the first pod. It w
as already open, the side of it folding upward like some futuristic space ship. Aubrey couldn’t see much through its curved tinted windows, especially while running, but it didn’t look to be occupied. Thankfully Gabe stopped at the hatch entrance.

  “Gabe!” Aubrey choked between breaths a little more angrily than she would have liked.

  He turned, beaming at her and she just couldn’t find it in herself to stay angry at him. “They’re both here,” he declared with all the enthusiasm of Tiny Tim, “We’re gonna make it!”

  Yeah, now we just have to blow up and sink the ship. Aubrey wouldn’t feel relieved until she checked over every inch of the pod. “Yeah kiddo, but next time you run off I’m going to shoot you.”

  She smirked and stepped through the hatch. The pod’s cabin was a little tight, but roomy enough to get several people in if the need arose. When the hatch sealed it would be completely enclosed and water tight in theory. Made sense for a craft designed to launch after the ship sank. Most of the room was empty. A door hung to the left, likely leading to a small engine compartment. Small ration packs and medical supplies were attached to the sloping walls. God Aubrey was hungry but she had bigger things to worry about so she turned her attention to the right.

  Two pilot’s chairs stood in front of a small bank of monitors. She could see the smokestack room through the windows there. Still empty. Aubrey wasn’t going to bet on it staying that way for long. She slid between the chairs to check the monitors and her heart jumped.

  What the hell!?

  Aubrey didn’t know what to make of what she was seeing so she just stared for a long time. There, sitting on one of the touch screens was the captain’s keycard. The keycard! The very same one that had caused them so much damn trouble! What was it doing here? Maybe the captain knew this was his only escape and came up to prep everything and then—

  Then what? Went off and died somewhere?

  It was a distinct possibility. The crew had failed in their attempt to sink the ship. Maybe Sepella went to finish the job. But why wouldn’t he take it with him? Surely there were plenty of other uses for the damned thing.

  Aubrey was distracted from the thought by the blinking monitor next to it. It flashed at her again.

  INSERT AUTHORIZATION PAL KEY.

  Did it mean the card? Surely things couldn’t have been that easy, not on this night, but Aubrey found herself reaching for the card, snatching up the frail piece of plastic and sliding it through the reader. The lights on the small craft instantly kicked in.

  WELCOME CAPTAIN, the screen read and displayed a host of options.

  You’ve got to be shitting me.

  Something was very wrong here. Or maybe it had been so long since things went her way that she just didn’t know how to deal with a bit of good luck anymore.

  INITIATE LAUNCH PROCEDURE? the screen prompted.

  Aubrey scanned over the other options, her eyes landing on LOCK CONTROLS. Something was wrong. She felt it in her gut. Whatever fairytale world where keys randomly showed up and doors magically opened wasn’t the one she was living in. Someone had left this for her just as they had left the journal entries earlier and until she could figure out why, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She pressed a finger into the screen, a small window springing up.

  DESIGNATE PASSWORD.

  Leave it to jumpy Mac to include every failsafe. She smirked inwardly, a pang of sadness suddenly rising in her chest and killing the humor of the thought. He was a good man, despite what happened to Gabe. They owed him their lives.

  Thank you, she thought, mentally pushing past it and focusing in on the screen and the million things that still needed to happen before they were safe. A small keypad showed up on the display. Aubrey thought a moment and then punched in four keys, four letters that were somehow the furthest thing from their situation and yet the most appropriate thing for it.

  PASS ACCEPTED. WARNING: CONTROLS LOCKED. BE SURE TO WRITE DOWN YOUR PASS.

  Yeah, sure, I’ll run and grab a notepad right away.

  “Is everything okay?” Gabe called from the hatchway.

  Aubrey rose, sliding the card into her pocket, and moved back that way. “Yeah, it checks out. Come in and take a look. It’s pretty cool.”

  Gabe stepped inside and his face lit up. “Spiffy.”

  Aubrey smirked and then turned to the rear door. “Hang here a sec. I’m going to check the engines.” The engine compartment couldn’t have been that big, probably not big enough for anything to hide, but the mysterious keycard had her on edge. If someone was playing them, she had to know.

  And if things turned out to be her imagination, which she sincerely hoped they did, then she’d sit back with one of her favorite people and wait for the ship to sink.

  God Julian, please be okay. What’s taking you so long?

  Chapter 30

  Deck 1, Aft

  Julian took another shaky step, his boot squishing on the spongy skin mat, something he hadn’t gotten used to in the last five identical steps before this. He doubted he’d gain a tolerance for it in the ten meters it would take him to reach the similarly covered engine room door. Had it been so bad when B Squad came through here or was all this growth more recent? Julian resisted the urge to jump when the mat shivered beneath his feet as it had done each time he trampled it. The sense that the very room didn’t want him there was oppressive. It bore down on him, cranking the vice around his stomach to maximum dread.

  He didn’t want to end up like those other guys. He was far too aware that there was no one else down here but him. No one to put a bullet in me should the shit hit the slimy fan. He took another step. More shivers, some of them his. Which one of these would be his last before Watcher decided to act?

  Stowe it Jules. Eye on the prize.

  There was nowhere for anything to hide in the starboard hallway. The creepy mold spiraled out from the outline of the engine room door covering every available surface, but no objects or creatures barred his path. Likewise, the creature army in the hallway behind him had dispersed into thin air. He was alone with his thoughts and his squishing boots. If Watcher was down here, and he was willing to bet it was, it was laying low for some reason. What that reason was was beyond Julian but it worried the hell out of him.

  C’mon, where are you? What are you doing?

  He reached the door fully expecting something to spring out at him then and there but again nothing happened. And what’s behind door number two? He doubted it would be a new car. He took hold of the moist handle. Like all vital areas of the ship, the engine room was normally locked so any yahoo couldn’t just wander in and attempt to do exactly what Julian was. It made sense, but like everything else this night, sense decided to flutter out the window.

  The door squelched open. It resisted him at first, the skin folding and tearing at the seam, but he was eventually able to pry it open. The mold shuttered with the effort. If it didn’t like him before, it certainly hated him now. The door slid back and Julian instantly gagged.

  Warm air like corpse breath pelted him in the face, the death gas of some dying giant washing over him and baptizing him in this new nightmarish realm. He didn’t think the ship’s oppressive stink could get any worse but here he was, fighting back the urge to puke what little food he had left in his system.

  He straightened up. Now wasn’t the time to get killed because of a little nausea. Thin beams of emergency light shown down from somewhere high overhead splashing pools of illumination on the large space. At least he could see. It made up for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to detect Watcher via sound as he had before. The dull roar and chunk-chunk-chunking of the massive pistons that turned the turbines drowned out even the sounds of his own breathing and footsteps. They added themselves to the gurgling and sloshing of seawater that had infiltrated the deck below.

  The room was arrayed in a large square. It spanned two levels, the one he was on and the pit below. Julian’s level was a metal cage walkway that looped around th
e perimeter of the room, dotted with consoles and machinery he didn’t know the use of. On the far side were two metal stairways leading down into the lower basin.

  Down into the pool more like it. The level below was almost entirely flooded by this point. Dark water swirled amongst the massive engines and generators that ran like strips across the pit. It was a miracle the machines were still operating! Maybe it wasn’t Watcher that had killed the lights after all. By all appearances, the crew wasn’t entirely unsuccessful in their attempt to sink the ship. Watcher’s kingdom was beginning to crumble around it.

  Which means it’ll be looking for a way to get off. Don’t get yourself killed Aubrey.

  He didn’t have time to revel in the warm memory of their kiss. In such a terrible place he wouldn’t want to. Signs of Watcher’s carnage were everywhere. The stringy mold spider webbed over all the broken monitors, whirring machines, and every surface in-between. It snaked into the tops of the engines and generators, likely awarding Watcher the control over the ship that they had seen it exert. Some of the tendrils had withered and died from their exposure to the rising water.

  And everywhere there were bodies.

  Bodies peppered the walkway, the machines, some of them dangling off, most piled in heaps. Some had fallen into the churning waters below. He saw them there, their faces bobbing just beneath the surface for a second before being sucked back down. And still more bodies plastered the walls or hung from the ceiling with the aid of the nasty mold. Not all of them were intact. Men, women, and children. Young and old. None had escaped Watcher’s wrath.

  Julian had to remember to breathe, and when he did he had to fight the sob that was fighting its way into his gag reflex stricken throat. He had seen pictures of the atrocities that took place during the Holocaust. But even though pictures spoke a thousand words, they couldn’t convey the millions of feelings that exploded within him now standing here in a live reenactment. Sadness for the lives taken so casually. Horror at the brutality and scale of it. And anger—no--white hot hatred for the creature and the minds that had engineered it.