The last few minutes of the meal went smoothly, and his mind began to drift more toward his planned activities for later that night… after they were back in their cabin. He smiled as he imagined her in the bed. She was so enthusiastic, skin so smooth, and her mouth was exquisite. She had that one trick she did with her tongue… Charlie found himself with an uncomfortable tent in his pants when Felicia interrupted his reverie.
“Can we, Charlie? Please?”
“Ah, I’m sorry. Can we what?”
“Go dancing with the others.” She pursed her lips in a coquettish little circle, drawing his attention once again to that mouth. “I really feel like dancing.”
He pretended to consider it for a moment, then shook his head. “Not tonight, baby. Maybe tomorrow night.”
Felicia’s lips went from smile to moue. “But I really want to go tonight.” She shimmied her shoulders at him and his eyes were immediately drawn to the way her ample cleavage shifted. It only reinforced his desire to get her back to their cabin. He had another kind of dancing in mind——a night of mattress mambo was in order. After all, he hadn’t just dropped ninety bucks on a damned hamburger for nothing.
He turned to their tablemates. “I’m really sorry, guys. I think we’re going to have to pass tonight. It’s been a long day, and we’re a bit tired. Maybe another night.”
But Felicia pouted. “Oh, come on, Charlie. I’m not tired. Let’s go! Just for a little while? It’ll be fun.” She was still smiling at that point, not yet realizing how badly she’d overstepped. She had contradicted him in front of strangers.
Whether or not she realized what she had done, that was the moment. After all he’d done for her… all the trouble he’d gone to so this would be a memorable experience for her… all the inconvenience he’d put up with… and she wanted to bitch about him not wanting to go dancing with a bunch of people he didn’t even know? And to top it off, she was trying to embarrass him in public?
Still, he tried one last time. “Not tonight, baby. We need to get back to the cabin.”
She pouted. “Pah-leeeaaase?”
It was too much. She had pushed him too far, and Charlie had finally had more than he could take. He slapped his open palm on the table. “Damn it, Felicia. I said no!”
Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing and looked at him. Looked at him like he was something they needed to scrape off the bottom of their shoes. Charlie looked around. The surrounding tables had suddenly gone silent, and as his gaze fell upon them, the other patrons of the dining room found sudden fascination with their silverware or tablecloths.
Throwing his hands in the air, Charlie snorted. “So now I’m the bad guy? Hah! If you knew how many times this stupid cow has done this to me, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
Felicia burst into tears and fled the room.
“Well shit.” He threw his napkin on the table and stood. There was a brief moment where his head took a moment to catch up with his sudden change in altitude, and he realized he was a little buzzed from all the wine. As big a man as he was, there was still a limit to what he could drink without showing the effects. He steadied himself with one hand on the table. Equilibrium restored, he smiled at the others seated at his table. “Don’t guess I’ll be getting lucky tonight, will I?”
He left the dining room, not looking behind, but feeling the eyes of the other patrons staring as he walked out.
Fuck ‘em.
Chapter 11
August Grappin
Midnight Pool Party
One of the teen activities mentioned on the brochure were the nightly pool parties. Initially, Gus had thought it was a little chilly outside for a pool party, but the pools were heated, and he was determined to meet some girls on this trip. He was at the stage of his adolescence where he pretty much had one thing on his mind. And if there was a chance that there would be girls his own age, in swimsuits no less, then he wasn’t going to miss out.
And if they happened to get out of the warm pool while wet, and the outside air was cold? He smiled at the possibilities.
Ironically enough, the midnight pool parties actually began at nine o’clock. Tonight was the third one, and he was beginning to lose hope that he was going to have any luck. The last two nights there had been mostly guys at the pool, and he hadn't been interested in staying around for a sausage-fest.
But tonight looked like it was going to be different. Looking around the pool, Gus had to smile. Tonight there were several girls his age. And while Gus wasn’t the smoothest guy in the world when it came to talking with the fairer sex, he was at least smart enough to know how to work to his strengths. He had long ago learned that the best way to get his foot in the door with the girls was by being honest with them.
For the most part.
He didn’t bother trying to think up smarmy pickup lines, or lying to them. He treated them with respect. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it backfired. But he figured that any girl that fell for some stupid line a jock laid on her, or who couldn’t appreciate him for who he really was, wasn't really someone he wanted to hang out with anyway. And he had been surprised at how often the girls responded favorably to that attitude.
Tonight was no exception. Her name was Cindy, and she was cute, in a “girl next door” kind of way. She had pale skin and wore a black bikini that left little to the imagination. A bikini that forced him to stay in the water most of the time, for fear that the bulge in his swimsuit would cause her to think he was only after one thing.
He wasn’t. Not exactly, anyway. He was genuinely interested in her. But he was also a normal sixteen-year-old boy, and Cindy’s rocking hot body had the same effect on him that it would have had on any other horny teenaged boy. He just had to make sure she didn’t see that effect. She had a quick wit, a pretty laugh, and before he knew it, they were talking like they were old friends.
“So your parents are cool with your hair?”
Gus shrugged, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. “My dad’s gone. Left me and my mom about eight months ago. Mom’s cool with it, since she knows it would piss him off.”
Cindy’s expression turned soft. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
He gave her a lopsided grin, going for the pained look of a hurt young man trying to make the best of his bad situation. “No way you could have.”
“But I like the way your mom thinks—liking your hair because it would piss off your dad.” She grinned. “My folks would have a fit if I did something like that to my hair. Hell, I had to sneak out wearing clothes over my swimsuit so they wouldn’t see the bikini.”
Gus raised an eyebrow. “They don’t know you’re wearing that?”
She shook her head and laughed. “They think I’m wearing my one-piece from swim team.”
“Wow. You’re on a swim team? That’s why you look so, ah…” Gus caught himself, but didn’t know how to finish. He swallowed as Cindy raised an eyebrow at him.
She smirked at him. “Why I look so what?”
Gus flapped his jaw open and closed before realizing she was playing with him. When he realized she wasn’t offended, he smiled back at her. “Sorry. I was going to say hot, but thought it might piss you off.”
She grinned broadly, then shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a guy telling a girl she looks good. Especially since that’s kinda the effect I was going for.” She moved a little closer to him in the water, and Gus swallowed. Was she going to kiss him? Did she want him to kiss her? Suddenly, she was only inches away from him. “You know what I really want to do now, though?”
“N-no.” He cleared his suddenly dry throat as she put her hand on his shoulder. He had trouble concentrating on her words as she moved even closer and put her lips up against his ear. His heart pounded as he felt her breasts pushing up against his chest.
“I want,” her grip tightened on his shoulder, “to play tag!” And she slipped her leg behind his and shoved back on him. Gus was underwater before he realized it. He came up sputte
ring and laughing, looking around just in time to see her scantily clad rump roll under the surface of the water as she swam away.
Gus took off after her.
Chapter 12
Interlude – Tursiops truncates
He was known in the pod by a tiny tear in his dorsal fin he had received years ago in an unfortunate shark encounter. It wasn’t the first time his impetuous nature had gotten him into trouble, and it wouldn’t be the last. The sound for Bite Taken out of Tip of His Dorsal was commonly shortened by members of the pod to a name more humorously, and somewhat insultingly, interpreted as Dorsey. Dorsey was more curious than most dolphins, so when he sensed the screams and laughter of another pod nearby, he sounded the call to the rest of his pod.
His call was first answered by Speckled Tail, who swam up to him, pinging the waters with his own sonar. His curiosity also piqued, he added his call to Dorsey’s, and the rest of the pod joined them, swimming toward the crazed echoes of fellow dolphins thrashing about in the cool waters. There was something unusual in the calls and movements of the others—something erratic, and almost panicked.
Dorsey and Speckled Tail led the pod, their concern increasing as they neared the others. The sounds of the others were frantic, thrashing about in the glowing water of a phosphorescent sheen floating on the water. One of the giant human not-fish things floated through the water nearby, and at first, Dorsey thought it had attacked the pod, but to his dismay and amazement, he saw one of the strange pod clapping his jaws loudly to announce his attack, then ram into one of his pod mates with a force hard enough to rupture internal organs.
As Dorsey and his pod watched, several more of the other pod engaged one another in biting and ramming, clearly attempting to kill one another. Dorsey sounded his dismay, and raced forward. It wasn’t the first time his impetuousness had gotten him into trouble. But this time, it would be the last.
Chapter 13
Charles Griffe
Is There Any Other Way?
Knowing his nighttime plans were ruined, Charlie decided he didn’t want to bother going back up to the cabin. He walked slowly down the corridor, snaking the back of his hand out every few feet to brush the railing on the wall. It was a trick he had learned in his younger days to keep from weaving as he walked. It was a matter of pride for him that no one should know he had a buzz on.
A buzz, yes. But this fucked up evening calls for some serious drinking.
So he wandered the ship for a while, looking for a nice bar. I dressed in a damned suit, after all. Might as well find a classy joint to go with it. Most of the bars on the lower decks were crowded, noisy affairs, and didn’t suit the mood in which Charlie found himself. Eventually, he found himself on Deck Seventeen, standing outside a quiet little jazz bar. On the stage, easily within sight of the entrance, a live band played. And Charlie had to admit they were pretty good; the perfect accompaniment to his mood. He walked in and took a seat at the bar.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“Something to help me unwind. Got any Jack?”
“Yes, sir. We have Gentleman Jack, Tennessee Honey, Old Number Seven, and Single Barrel Select.”
Charlie was momentarily overwhelmed. He’d always thought Jack was Jack, but he’d be damned if he was going to admit that in front of some penguin-suited bartender. “Gentleman Jack.”
“Excellent choice, sir. Rocks or neat?”
“On the rocks. Is there any other way?” Charlie cocked an eyebrow as if the bartender had asked a stupid question.
The bartender scooped a few ice cubes in a glass and poured two fingers of the amber liquid. Over the course of the next two hours, Charlie became extraordinarily well acquainted with his newfound friend and gentleman, Mr. Jack Daniels. So much that the bartender had cut him off, gently suggesting that he have a cup of coffee instead. Charlie started to argue with the man, but was interrupted by the lurching in his stomach as his body betrayed him. He staggered off the barstool, and barely made it to a bathroom stall before spewing the contents of his ninety dollar lobster, as well as a considerable volume of Gentleman Jack down the toilet.
Too exhausted and depressed to get back to his feet, Charlie laid his head on his arms and began to sob quietly.
Chapter 14
Chris Tallant
Flipper’s Flipped
There was a small observation deck outside the bridge, and the crew had all been stepping outside to watch the glowing sheen as their duties permitted. Chris had managed to sneak a few minutes in, but being the newest of the bridge officers, he felt compelled to show more of his conscientious side. After all, the first officer's position next year was his to lose.
So he monitored the navigation systems, trying to show the captain what an asset he was to the ship, while everyone else milled back and forth at the windows and outside deck. Even Captain Eckles seemed more intent on the biological anomaly than the operation of the ship. He had spent the better part of an hour watching through the windows.
The young apprentice who had originally brought the glowing abnormality to their attention walked inside from the outer deck, pointing ahead. "More dolphins, sir!"
Eckles trained his binoculars where Perez indicated. "They're fighting. Just like the others."
Chris watched as the captain lowered his binoculars, and his expression turned from fascination to concern.
"It's like—"
But he was interrupted before he could complete the thought as Perez suddenly guffawed, then appeared shocked as he realized he had inadvertently interrupted the captain.
"Something funny, Mr. Perez?" Captain Eckles appeared irritated, but peered quizzically at the younger man.
"No, sir." But as soon as he said it, he began to laugh. There was something in the young man's laughter that made the hair on Chris' neck stand up. He watched as Perez took a deep, stuttering breath, apparently trying to get himself under control.
"Mr. Perez?" the captain repeated.
Finally, as if unable to contain himself any longer, Perez guffawed. It was an echoing, sonorous exhalation of a belly laugh that had the man bent over slapping his thigh at whatever it was he found so hilarious. The bridge crew wasn't large, just over a dozen people, and Perez's laughter drew the attention of everyone else in the room. Chris looked around to see if the others were as freaked out as he was, but to his alarm, most of them began to smile with the young man.
From his station at the back of the bridge, Chris watched as Perez stood and pointed to the cetaceans thrashing about in the ocean ahead. The man took a deep breath, struggling to keep himself together as he tried to explain what he found so amusing. "Flip… Flipper…" he laughed again, then turned to face Captain Eckles. "Flippers flipped out!"
There were other hoots of laughter as he shouted again, "Flipper's flipped, Flipper's flipped, Flipper's flipped!" Without warning, Perez swung his binoculars into the captain's face. Eckles went down with a cry of pain, Perez atop the bigger man slamming the lenses into the man's head over and over.
Pandemonium erupted throughout the bridge. Chris started forward to pull Perez from the captain’s limp form, but as he moved forward, he saw other fights breaking out all around him. Instantly, he saw the thing that chilled his blood. Every attacker, all over the bridge, each and every one of them, was giggling insanely. And there were many more people laughing than not. In fact, only seconds after that furious initial attack, Chris was the only person standing who wasn’t laughing.
One by one, the laughing faces turned his way. Chris thought briefly about trying to reason with them, but the expressions he saw showed little in the way of sanity, and he knew he had no chance. Chris Tallant lunged for the door, running for his life as the rest of the bridge crew chased after him with gleeful destruction in their eyes.
Heart pounding, Tallant raced down the stairs, taking them three at a time. The corridors were lined with passengers going to and fro about their normal frivolous cruise business, and he ran through them, more terr
ified than he had ever been in his entire life. At first, he managed to avoid most of them, weaving through the light foot traffic at breakneck speed, but the farther he went, the more dense the foot traffic was, and he quickly found himself pushing people out of his way in his panic. He bounced off a young woman in blue jeans and a white, sequined blouse.
“Hey!” she protested.
“Run!”
Irritation turned to confusion as she realized something was wrong. “What? Are you all right?”
There were shouts behind him. Some were shouts of indignation and anger. Some were shouts of laughter.
Over it all, he could barely make out the raucous chant of, “Flipper’s flipped! Flipper’s flipped!”
Tallant wanted to cry out when he heard more laughter in the crowd. Some of the passengers must have thought it was some kind of joke. Perhaps a spontaneous show of some sort… street theater on the high seas. Whatever the reason, he heard many of them begin laughing.
He grabbed the woman in front of him. “They’re crazy! Run!”
Brows furrowed, she looked at him in confusion. “What?”
He shoved her ahead of him, trying to get her to understand the danger that was blossoming behind them.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“No time, lady. You have to run!”
“Get your hands off me!” She began slapping at his arm. “Help!”
All around them, people moved out of their way, and to his horror, Tallant saw many of them begin to smile.
He couldn’t make her understand. Couldn’t make her believe there was any danger in the few seconds they had. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her along with him, but she struggled against him.
“Help!” she screamed. “Help!”
Others around them watched, no doubt confused at the sight of a uniformed crew hand trying to pull a young woman down the hallway. The woman clawed at his arm, raking her nails along the skin, and he jerked his hand back.
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