by Jake Bible
“Ballantine is a son of a bitch, but he survives,” Moshi said, making a brief appearance. “Listen.”
Then she was gone.
“We stay put and wait for the signal,” Lucy said.
“What exactly is the signal?” Cougher asked. “The details were sketchy on that.”
“Ballantine said we’d know it when it happened,” Ingrid said.
“What an asshole,” Popeye growled.
***
“Goddammit,” Sterling snarled as voices filled the com in his ear. “We have a problem.”
Wire turned her attention from a grinning Ballantine and stared at her head of security.
“Who?” Wire asked.
“Infirmary, so that would be Kinsey Thorne and Gunnar Peterson,” Sterling said.
“And Dana,” Ballantine added. “I believe Dana was in there as well.”
Wire sneered.
“She still is, but not in the state in which she arrived,” Wire said.
“Is that so?” Ballantine replied, his voice ice cold. “Killing your own mother. How will you sleep at night?”
“Don’t even, Ballantine,” Wire said. “I no more consider her my mother than I consider you my father. She deserved what she got and you know why. Your fate isn’t looking too much better, but we have work to do before you meet your end.”
“Oh, good,” Ballantine said. “A working death. I’ve lived nothing but a working life, so it is fitting to go out industrious.”
“Wire?” Sterling asked. “What’s the call?”
“The call? Find Kinsey Thorne and Gunnar Peterson and bring them up here,” Wire barked and focused on Thorne. “You want to see your daughter live through this? Then I suggest you get her on the com and tell her to knock this shit off and surrender. I’m not giving her another chance.”
“Why do you even want her alive?” Thorne asked. “Or any of us? Seems like a tactical risk to me. We keep breathing means your chances of still breathing lessen with every minute.”
“Um, Vincent, perhaps the wise choice would be to not point out the flaws in our enemies’ plans,” Ballantine said. “I for one applaud Wire’s decision to keep us alive. I think she is making an excellent choice and should be commended.”
Ballantine smiled wide at Wire.
“Who would commend you, by the way? Pullman Heating & Cooling is yours completely, yes? Is there anyone above that can give you a rousing good job?”
“I am autonomous,” Wire stated.
“Well, that’s one way to skirt a direct answer,” Ballantine said.
“Darby will need to be secured,” Sterling said, still gripping the woman’s arm. “I’d rather not leave her in here with you.”
“Then take her onto the outer deck with the Reynolds brothers and deckhands,” Wire said. “Do what you need to do to keep her from causing trouble.”
“Understood,” Sterling said and yanked Darby towards the large sliding doors that led to the upper deck. “Try anything and others die, not just you.”
“Alright,” Darby replied as she was pulled outside into the blazing hot sun.
“Alright that you comply or alright that you are fine with others dying?” Sterling asked as he marched Darby down the stairs to where the others were being guarded as they sat on the deck, hands tied behind backs and ankles secured. “You’re a hard one to read.”
“I’m not a book,” Darby said. “Maybe stop trying to read me.”
“I don’t know what happened to your head, but it wasn’t good,” Sterling said. “Unless you’ve always been this way?”
“Hey! Where are you taking her?” Darren called as they passed the bridge.
Sterling ignored the question and kept moving.
“Hey there, sexy pants,” Max said when Sterling and Darby reached the group. “And you too, Darby.”
“Nice one, man,” Shane said.
“Thanks, dude,” Max replied.
“Dana is dead and Kinsey and Gunnar are loose below decks,” Darby said.
“Oh. Well…shit,” Max replied.
“Sis can take them,” Shane stated.
“Sis? She’s your cousin,” Sterling said, setting Darby down on the opposite of the group from the Reynolds brothers. He watched carefully as a guard bound Darby’s wrists then ankles. “Did I miss something?”
“Only your humanity taking a vacation and not coming back,” Max said.
“Kinsey is like a sister to them so they call her Sis,” Darby said.
“Way to undercut the mystery,” Shane said.
“Darby, I love you, but let’s not give the bad man any more intel, alrighty?” Max said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Darby said. “The bad man is going to die by my hands at some point during the next couple of days. We can tell him everything about us and it won’t make a difference.”
“Am I the only one turned on by that tough talk?” Max asked. “Because if it turned any of you guys on, then back the fuck off. She’s my unstoppable killing machine, thank you very much.”
“My God,” Sterling muttered as he pressed a finger to his com. “Darby is secured with the idiots.”
“He’s talking about us,” Shane said in a loud whisper.
“Nah, he’s only talking about you, bro,” Max said. “You’re just such an idiot that he has to refer to you in the plural form.”
“Permission to shoot one of the Reynolds brothers in the leg?” Sterling asked.
“Permission denied,” Wire replied over the com.
“They really don’t shut up,” Sterling pleaded.
“Go find Kinsey Thorne,” Wire ordered.
“Copy that,” Sterling said then kicked Max in the gut. “Darby gets out of hand in any way, I will slice your belly open and show you your own guts. Understood? Keep her in line.”
“That’s quite the request, buckaroo,” Max coughed. “It’d be easier for me to swim to Florida from here than tell Darby to do anything.”
“I plan on doing nothing,” Darby said. “Go find Kinsey and bring her back alive. I’ll stay put if she comes back breathing.”
“See? Darby is being reasonable. She’s letting you live if you let Kinsey live,” Max said.
“And Gun. Gun needs to come back alive too,” Shane said.
“And Gunnar,” Darby added.
“You all are as fucking nuts as Ballantine,” Sterling said and walked towards the hatch leading to the lower decks. “Kinsey Thorne lives if she surrenders. She puts up a fight and I will take her out.”
“If you’re taking her out, then you should know she enjoys sushi!” Shane called.
“Does she? I thought Sis hated sushi,” Max said.
“Fucking shut up!” Sterling yelled before slamming the hatch closed behind him.
Chapter Five: A Kinsey Thorne In The Side
“Not that way,” Kinsey said as Gunnar started to take the steps up to the next deck. “We’re going deeper.”
“Deeper?” Gunnar asked. “Why? Where to?”
“The why is because all the assholes are up top,” Kinsey said. She paused, ducked her head quickly around the corner and back, nodded to Gunnar, then turned into the next passageway, M4 leading the way. “The where to is the mini-sub. It’s our last chance out of here.”
“Didn’t Ballantine say the new mini-sub is smaller inside than the Wiglaf was?” Gunnar exclaimed.
“Which is why I’m not getting in it,” Kinsey said. “I’m putting you in there so at least one of us survives this bullshit.”
“Kins, I can’t let you do that,” Gunnar said.
“Yeah, like you have much of a choice,” Kinsey replied. “Ballantine screwed us all by surrendering. I’m not letting you die, Gun. If any of us deserve to live, it’s you. ‘Ren and I are operators. We were eventually going to each take a bullet. It was inevitable. But you’re a doctor and scientist. You should die in your sleep or some shit.”
“Kins, we’ve been friends since we were kids,” Gunnar argued. �
��We grew up together. If you die, I die. I plan on seeing this through to the end with you.”
Kinsey ducked her head around another corner and leapt back as gunfire tore into the metal wall.
“You might get your wish, Gun,” Kinsey said as she took a knee, inched closer to the corner, and waited for the gunfire to stop.
As soon as the shooting ended, Kinsey feigned looking around the corner to get the shooting started once more. She counted off in her head then pivoted on her knee and began firing as the attacking gunfire simultaneously ended.
Two men and a woman screamed as Kinsey ripped them apart at the thighs. They fell to the ground and Kinsey ended them with single shots to their heads. She stood up, her wounded calf protesting, and approached the dead guards.
“Clear,” she called back to Gunnar.
He appeared by her side and shook his head.
“You ever think I’d be able to do that when we were kids?” Kinsey asked, stepping over the corpses.
“Yeah. I did,” Gunnar said. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Kinsey said. “I’m flattered.”
“That’s good,” Gunnar said.
They proceeded down the passageway, down two flights of stairs, and through another four passageways before they reached the hatch that led to the specimen bay passageway. Kinsey paused and eyed the hatch’s wheel.
“How much you want to bet there’s someone waiting for us on the other side?” she asked Gunnar.
“A dollar,” Gunnar said. “And I’m only betting that because why the fuck not.”
“Good attitude,” Kinsey said. She nodded at the wheel. “Give it a spin and a pull. Stay back behind the door while I shoot at whatever is on the other side.”
“Whatever? You expecting a monster?” Gunnar asked as he gripped the wheel.
“I’m ready for anything and everything,” Kinsey said. “Do it, Gun.”
Gunnar spun the wheel, pulled hard, and grimaced as Kinsey stepped forward, her M4 leading the way.
“Huh,” she said. “Nothing.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Gunnar asked.
“Yeah, it is,” Kinsey said. “About time we caught a break. Come on.”
She hurried into the next passageway and over to the main hatch to the specimen bay. Kinsey flattened herself by the left side of the hatch then quickly peeked through the porthole in the upper middle. She smiled and winked at Gunnar.
“Clear,” she crowed. “You can get off the ship and find help.”
“I, uh…what?” Gunnar asked. “Find help? Kins, I barely know how to operate the mini-sub, let alone know where to go to get help.”
“Do whatever you can to get to a port,” Kinsey said. “The sub should have enough fuel to go for a few hundred miles. At least that’s what the elves said last time I asked about it. Special drives or something. I tuned out after they said it ran and could go a long way.”
“Special drives or something,” Gunnar sighed. “Great. How reassuring.”
“Just shut up and get in there,” Kinsey snapped.
“I’m not going without you,” Gunnar said. “I mean it, Kins. It may be brutally cramped, but we’ll figure out how to fit both of us. I can’t do this on my own. I need you.”
“Jesus Christ, Gun,” Kinsey said and shook her head. “I’m saving your ass.”
“And I’m saving yours,” Gunnar said. “You think they’re going to let you live after you killed all those guards? If you stay, then you are going to die. Come with me so you have a chance. Plus, if you’re free out there, then everyone on this ship has a shot at living. You are scary deadly when determined to save family.”
“Yeah, I can’t argue there,” Kinsey said. “But, you have to listen…”
Kinsey’s eyes went wide as she trailed off.
“What?” Gunnar asked. “What’s wrong?”
“We forgot someone,” Kinsey hissed. “How in all the fucks could we do that?”
“Forgot someone? Who?” Gunnar asked. “Ballantine gave us all assignments. He told everyone where they needed to go, right? Who did he leave off?”
“Someone that isn’t family yet,” Kinsey said.
“Someone that isn’t…” Realization dawned on Gunnar’s face. “Shit.”
***
Nivia sat on her bunk, alone in her cabin, terrified of the sounds she heard coming from the rest of the ship. Gunshots, screaming, boots pounding down passageways. Chaos was noisy and scary as all Hell.
She hadn’t been on the B3 for very long. Only a couple weeks after being rescued from what the crew called “Murder Island.” The name fit since everything on that piece of shit rock only wanted to kill, kill, kill.
She’d been stranded there when her brother had taken their yacht into the deep harbor, thinking the pristine beach and signs of fresh water meant a paradise was at their fingertips. But as she learned the hard way by watching her husband, her brother, and her friends get devoured by mutant beetles, paradise was not only lost, but it had teeth and was very hungry.
Nivia did feel bad that Team Grendel had lost one of their own. Mike Perlman had been his name. He seemed like a nice guy, the brief time she’d spoken with him. It had hit the crew hard and Nivia knew many were still reeling from the shock, especially Dr. Gunnar Peterson. The two men had been lovers and longtime friends.
She’d gotten to know Gunnar fairly well over the weeks. He was a medical doctor and scientist; Nivia was a nurse. They had bonded, slightly, on science and medicine. Especially since Nivia had helped stabilize Vincent Thorne after he’d had a serious cardiac event on the damn island.
Nivia thought she’d proven herself to everyone on the B3. She thought they were going to help her get home, even if that Ballantine guy had said she’d simply be dropped off at the closest secure port. Whatever that meant. Nivia knew that the members of the crew of the B3 were running from something they did or something that was done to them, she wasn’t quite sure, and their flight across the ocean was getting in the way of her getting back to her former life.
Not that she ever could get back to her former life after what she’d gone through. But being a nurse, she’d witnessed countless forms of tragedy and knew other people had survived intense loss and grief. She could too.
But not if she sat on her ass and waited for someone to tell her what was going on. She had a distinct feeling that she’d been forgotten. It was to be expected since every time she ran into Ballantine, he acted as if they’d met for the first time. One of the Reynolds brothers, she couldn’t remember which one, the guy with the eye patch, had said that was Ballantine being Ballantine and he was messing with her so she didn’t try to do anything stupid.
Nivia had no idea what stupid thing she could do in the middle of the goddamn ocean surrounded by killers, misfits, and freaks. She couldn’t even think too hard about the fact there was a real, live Bigfoot onboard.
She stood up, faced the cabin door, took several deep breaths, and decided to leave. Nivia was done being a victim and passenger in her life. She was ready to take back some control and get some damn answers about what was going on and what Ballantine truly had planned for her.
Her hand hesitated as she reached for the cabin door handle. It wasn’t strictly about Ballantine anymore. The ship had been boarded. Or at least sounded like it had been boarded. She’d been exiled to her cabin by Ballantine long before contact was made. As far as she knew, there were armed guards right outside her cabin, waiting to put a bullet between her eyes if she tried to leave.
“Fuck,” she whispered, frustrated by her situation and her own cowardice.
She had survived flesh-eating beetles; she could survive some armed guards. She could do it.
Her hand finished its movement and she opened the door. She froze and listened. Nothing. No sound of movement or that feeling you get when you know someone is close by. Nivia took three steps out into the passageway.
No guards. Bloody bootprints on the floor, but no guard
s. The revelation was a mixed bag. No way that bloody bootprints could be a good thing. But the prints moved down the center of the passageway and didn’t look like they came close to hesitating by her cabin. Nivia guessed she was still an unknown quantity for whoever boarded the ship.
Nivia looked left, she looked right, she wished she had a weapon, she wished she could click her heels and be transported home. Hell, she wished she could click her heels and be transported to Cleveland or St. Louis or even the middle of Nebraska. Anywhere but the ship.
Right.
Nivia turned right and slowly, cautiously, walked down the passageway. She paused, listened, then turned the corner. Only one more turn, and a very long passageway, and she’d be at the closest set of stairs. Maybe she could sneak up top and take one of the lifeboats. She’d risk being stranded at sea, but she already felt stranded, so emotionally she was prepared.
Nivia reached the next corner. Again, she paused, listened, waited, then proceeded.
She found where all the blood had come from.
The sightless eyes of the guards’ corpses stared up at the halogen lighting that flickered in the passageway, giving everything an even more surreal feel to it than was already there. Nivia slowly picked her path and took careful steps around the corpses. It was like navigating a minefield made of death and offal instead of explosives.
There was a squish and pop and Nivia had to close her eyes and take a couple shallow breaths. No deep breaths since the passageway smelled of voided bowels and emptied bladders. She refused to look down and see what she had stepped on. Intestines would be a good guess, but Nivia didn’t want to confirm what her medical mind was telling her.
She reached the stairs and started to ascend, but a clanging from above changed her mind fast. She spun about, unable to decide which direction to go in. The passageway was too long for her to make it to the end before whoever was coming down the stairs was in sight. There were no cabin doors in the passageway for her to duck into. Nivia was trapped.