The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2

by Christopher Cartwright

  Alexis took a few steps down the empty passageway without falling. She smiled. Perhaps I’m finally getting my sea legs? At the end of the passageway she paused and looked back. No one had stopped her yet. She felt slightly nervous. Like a school girl sneaking out in the middle of the night on camp to meet a boy, she half expected one of the staff to catch her at any moment and send her straight back to her stateroom.

  But no one came.

  She tentatively looked over her shoulder where she had just come from and then started to climb the stairs towards the sixth level. Her stateroom was situated near the very front of the ship, on the portside of the bow. She headed towards the aft of the ship. The main restaurant stood empty. It was often filled to bursting with exceptional food, delivered in both buffet style and a la carte – three times a day. Each sitting provided a two-hour window to enjoy the food. There was unique and even finer dining on top deck above, but this was where the main meals were served.

  Alexis looked at the empty restaurant. She didn’t wear a wrist watch, but could tell instantly that the time was outside one of those three meal windows. She’d never seen the place so vacant. Normally there’s a straggler who’s simply remained to have a coffee, or finish reading the newspaper. But today the place was completely empty.

  She walked inside. Past the rows upon rows of stainless steel buffet serving tables and dispensers, all empty and polished clean so that the metal shined in preparation of the next meal sitting. At the end of the room she stopped before the kitchen door.

  Her eyes glanced at the small opening where special orders were delivered to picky passengers. People who didn’t like the normal, delicious food. Vegans, people who were gluten-free or had allergies to everything, and just plain whiners. During meal times the place was filled with chefs working vigorously to meet the demands of the passengers whose vociferous appetites for perfection drove them to work ever harder. Between meal times, you could ordinarily catch the occasional chef coming and going, or some of the junior kitchen staff performing the menial tasks of food preparation for the next sitting. Today, she saw no one.

  She tentatively ducked her head into the kitchen window, hoping to catch someone who could make her something more interesting than the diet of plain toast and water, which she’d subsisted on for the past three days. “Hello. Excuse me…” she said.

  No response.

  “Is anyone there?”

  Silence.

  Well that’s odd. Where is everyone?

  Alexis continued walking aft. She was tempted to take the stairs up to the seventh level – where the finest foods in the world were served at a premium price, twenty-four hours a day. She would have too, if it wasn’t for her fear that the deliciously rich gourmet meals would irritate her empty stomach and send her back to her stateroom in a quarantined status.

  Behind the restaurant the ebony grand piano stood alone in an empty bar. The racks of alcohols used to blend expensive cocktails hung in preparation for the drunken revelers who would soon follow. Alexis guessed it must be before 1130, because that’s when the pianist started. The bar usually didn’t gather many patrons until then.

  On her first day, before the sea sickness caught her, she had met James there. He was a Jazz pianist from New Orleans, playing music on the grand piano. He was a passenger but the staff let him play, and a crowd quickly formed to listen. Like everyone else, he appeared to have slept in today.

  Alexis kept walking aft of the great ship, past the empty library. She stopped at the concierge and on shore adventure desk. A little yellow sign with a handwritten note stared blankly at her in the middle. She picked it up and read the note – back in fifteen minutes.

  It reassured her nothing terrible had happened. No one bothers to leave a note if they’re abandoning a ship.

  She took a seat at the desk and waited. After a few minutes she stood up and laughed at herself. What was I thinking? A ship like the Antarctic Solace, with modern technologies and a reinforced steel icebreaking hull, doesn’t just break apart at sea, or lose all its passengers to some freak accident while leaving everything perfectly intact. She was being overly paranoid. There was a perfectly logical explanation for where everyone had disappeared to. And she would discover it at any moment.

  Alexis considered the only places aboard that could draw so many people away from the main areas of the ship. There was only one that she could think of – the theatre.

  Maybe there’s a big performance in the theatre? The entertainment department boasted some of the best shows of any cruise ship, ranging from current best-selling musicians to performances by Cirque du Soleil. The name struck a chord in her memory. She looked at the entertainment’s board. Cirque du Soleil was on the list. They must be performing today, and drawing big crowds.

  Of course, Cirque De Soleil was performing. This must be the day for the main show. She didn’t even consider why the main performance would be showing during the morning, when traditionally they were always performed in the evenings. Even so, she couldn’t get past the impending sense that some great calamity had affected everyone aboard the ship with herself the only exception.

  Alexis continued to walk towards the back of the ship. Next to the empty library a door labeled Fitness Center was closed. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have taken notice, but the series of strange events had led to a heightening of her senses.

  She stopped and tried to open the door or turn the handle. It clicked as she went to turn it. Someone had locked it. Below was a sign which read, Open 24 Hours. She felt that uneasy sensation one feels when they are about to discover something very bad has just happened. She felt tight in her chest and her heart fluttered.

  The Antarctic Solace provided luxury cruising to adventurers. Anyone interested in hiking across the Arctic Circle or climbing glaciers usually likes to exercise when they’re confined to a floating hotel. Like everywhere else onboard, the cruise ship provided state of the art training equipment and industry leading fitness instructors and exercise physiologists.

  She knocked on the glass door loudly. “Hello. Anyone in there?”

  Silence.

  Alexis sighed. Maybe her life wasn’t quite ready to return to normal. She then continued to walk towards the theater. Her previously relaxed and casual pace now brisk. This time she didn’t detour at any of the usual places where people could be found along the way. She passed the beauty salon, health retreat and spa.

  Alexis ignored the boutique shops. All of which displayed the customary yellow ‘closed’ sign she had become used to seeing. That in itself didn’t worry her. The shops often only opened during the evenings. She didn’t once stop to question if she’d ever recalled seeing a yellow ‘closed’ sign on anything previously – which she hadn’t. Subliminally, they simply contributed to her sensation that she was on some sort of deserted ghost ship.

  She finally reached the entrance to the grand theater.

  The golden doors were closed. It was a good sign. The amphitheater doors were left open when not in use so that guests could come and go. The fact they were firmly shut implied a show was currently being performed. Her ears perked trying to listen for sounds, but found only silence. She hoped that was related to the heavy soundproofing of the theater.

  She tried the door handle. It was locked.

  Then she noticed the yellow sign on the floor. The string which appeared to have previously held it over the door looked like it had been broken. Her heart pounded as she knew before she turned the yellow placard over, what it would say – Closed. Back in 15 minutes.

  She banged loudly on the doors.

  Then saw the axe on the side of the wall. It was there in the case of fires. I’m done waiting. It’s time to see what’s behind closed doors. Alexis grabbed the small hammer on the side of the unit and then broke the glass cover of the fire axe. She reached inside and took the axe from its alcove.

  No longer afraid of the repercussions of being caught, she lifted the axe high above her shoulders
and swung it so the head struck in between the large doors. It cut a small slice out of the door, but nowhere near enough to open it. She repeated the process again. And again. By the fifth attempt, something gave way in the locking mechanism and she was able to open the doors.

  She stepped inside the two hundred seat theater. Completely empty, the place echoed with her footsteps.

  Chapter Three

  Her heart quickened. Has there been some sort of disaster and I failed to receive the order to abandon ship with the others? She held onto the axe for reassurance. Then ran to the edge of the room and opened the thick glass doors to the exposed deck, which wrapped around the sixth level. Alexis stepped out into the freezing cold air. It was a technically a few degrees above, but that didn’t make it feel any warmer – and she wasn’t dressed for it whatsoever. Even so, she didn’t feel the cold in her rush to learn the truth.

  She ran to the portside where her designated life raft was supposed to be. She had performed a practice drill to reach it on her first day at sea. It rested at the edge of the 80 foot marker. Before she even reached it she’d imagined all the life rafts missing. Alexis anxiously passed the heavy bulkhead and found her life raft still secured inside its cradle.

  The sight gave her a small amount of reassurance.

  Her eyes scanned the vacant sea for other life rafts or signs of a tremendous calamity. None were seen. Instead all she could see was dark blue water, mostly still and reaching the horizon in every direction. She walked along the deck in a counter-clockwise direction. There were multiple life rafts situated in their cradles and suspended above the edge of the deck. By the time she’d reached the starboard side life rafts she accepted nothing terrible had happened to cause everyone to abandon ship.

  There must be another explanation. One that didn’t include anyone getting injured or hurt. She just couldn’t think of any.

  She stared at the water. There was something different about it. The dark blue water still filled her vision to the horizon in each direction, but there was something else. Then she realized what it was. The sea water was dead calm.

  It was the first time she’d given the concept any thought. She looked at the horizon. It appeared almost perfectly horizontal, which meant the ship was still. There was barely even a gentle rocking motion. Even a ship at anchor swung around a little.

  Have we run aground?

  It was an impossible explanation. If they’d run aground surely there would have been signs of the impending disaster. Life rafts missing. Life jackets dropped as passengers tried to hastily don their survival devices, which would serve little use in an area with water temperatures approaching freezing.

  So, if the Antarctic Solace hasn’t run aground, where did everyone go?

  Alexis opened the glass doors on the starboard side and entered the main entertainment level on the sixth floor again. Her eyes scanned the empty ship for any signs of recent activity. The lights were on. The fridges in the bar were running. The jukebox rattled as it waited for someone to choose the next song.

  She yelled, “Hello. Is anyone still here?”

  The sound echoed.

  I’m thousands of miles away from civilization – and I’m totally alone.

  Like a frightened child left alone in a strange place, she shrunk.

  What if it wasn’t the sea that got them?

  What if the Antarctic Solace has been attacked and the passengers are all hostages?

  The thoughts made her quickly realize that she needed to be quiet, careful and sly in her movements. But even those thoughts only provided her with more questions.

  Why would anyone attack them?

  And if they did, why leave the ship completely empty?

  She walked down to the fifth level and carefully slunk towards the bow of the ship again. Each of her senses heightened by fear, searching for anything that sounded different. Smelled different. Or looked unusual. Her confidence grew with each movement.

  Over the course of the next two hours she searched the ship and found nothing. The ship was stopped at sea, with all passengers bar herself missing. With the exception of the crew’s quarters on the lower decks, she’d searched everywhere. She would have searched the crew’s compartments but they were only accessible by the elevators and required security access cards.

  She returned to the bow of the ship, along the deck on the sixth level. There, she took the outside stairs that led to the seventh level. At the top she found a solid glass door. A prominent white sign with the words, “Cruise Ship Staff Only” barred the door. She ignored the sign. It was time to find answers. She hacked at it with the axe until it smashed to pieces.

  Alexis opened the door and entered the bridge. It was entirely empty. Perched at the bow of the ship with glass windows surrounding the walls it allowed a three hundred and sixty degree view of the horizon. All she saw was an empty ocean.

  Alexis walked over to some computer screens. A gimballed compass rested next to a small joystick. It was probably the only remains of sailing from another generation and looked ornamental more than for navigational purposes.

  She glanced at the compass for a moment. She felt a sudden uneasiness at the sight. The compass arrow spun in a slow and continuous anticlockwise direction. Surreal in its constant movement, the compass appeared like it had been rigged as a gimmick.

  Next, she examined the two computer screens beside the joystick. Navigational charts covered the screen. A tentative glance from the least astute bystander showed these two computers and their state of the art global positioning systems were what the pilot really used to navigate the ship.

  The sight brought the tiniest bit of relief to her. Although she’d never been on a cruise before, there was no doubt in her mind she could at least work out from the GPS where she was. She scrolled across the touch screen.

  It looked dark blue, the sign of deep water, wherever she went. As though the program had become caught up in a loop where each new screen simply mimicked the previous. Frustrated she clicked the image of a single ship – below it, were the word, “Locate Ship.”

  Where am I?

  A moment later the computer began automatically scrolling through reams of information. When it stopped, the image that remained sent a tingling sensation down the back of her neck, as though her lost relatives of generations past were now warning her.

  UNABLE TO LOCATE SATELLITES.

  Chapter Four

  Ronne Ice Shelf, Antarctica

  With his deep blue eyes hidden by the glossy reflection of snow goggles, he stared into the distance. The dry snow reached for miles. Over the ice covered crest and towards the horizon, the Pegasus science station stood hidden; concealed by snow. It was there, he knew it was. He just didn’t know how to reach it.

  His first attempts had failed because the strange floating iceberg ended in a thirty-foot chasm which separated it from the mainland continent of Antarctica. After leaving the Maria Helena on a snow mobile, he’d ridden to the very end of the island, and then followed the chasm in a westerly direction. The deep ice calving cut jaggedly inward with tiny faults in the floating landmass’s structure.

  Sam Reilly swung the snow mobile inward again. Swore, and then continued in search of another place to cross. It was clear he was going to need more equipment to pass the chasm and reach the trapped scientists in the Pegasus station.

  All that would take time. No one had heard from the scientists, whose vessel had become trapped in the ice between the coast and the newly arrived iceberg, for more than ten days. They had previously advised their rescuers they were running low on supplies and were not equipped to survive the harsh winter.

  He came around the second jagged fault line and then south again; this time towards the hill. It couldn’t quite be called a mountain, but it was by far the highest point for miles. And it was on the edge of the giant iceberg.

  Sam drove the snow mobile towards it, and rode up the base of the slope as far as he dared before the incline became to
o steep. He stopped about halfway up. Approximately a hundred feet he guessed.

  He looked back. The shape of the ice island stretched for miles, and for the first time, he could gain a rough idea of its size and outline. It stretched at least five miles in width and possibly double that in length. Sam watched as the jagged edge of the chasm followed the entire length. He then looked towards where he had come from. About five miles back, the Maria Helena stood still, anchored alone in the bay.

  Sam kicked himself for not preparing the Sikorsky Nighthawk better for transport. During the travel into the deep Southern Ocean, the Maria Helena’s helipad became covered in snow, freezing many of the vital parts of the helicopter. The consequence of which was that only a land based rescue party was capable of reaching the ice station. He swore again, as he realized he’d already be back onboard if he’d been able to take the helicopter.

  As it was, there was only one snow mobile on board. It could take two or three people at a stretch. He and Tom had played Rock, Scissors, Paper to see who would go and retrieve the scientists. Sam had lost, and Tom had agreed to help Veyron try and get the Sea King back in the air. Sam had left a few hours earlier, loaded with food supplies and medicine. Based on the GPS coordinates given and his current satellite imaging of the area, the Pegasus science station was approximately fifteen miles to the south.

  No one had heard from the scientists for a total of ten days now. Matthew, on board the Maria Helena, had tried the VHF radio hoping they might pick up local communications. But all anyone could hear was static.

  Sam still held high hopes he would be back within a few hours. Instead, he still couldn’t work out how to reach the research station. He continued to climb the hill in the hope he would spot a safe place to cross the ice rift. Trudging through the deep snow, he continued his ascent to the tallest peak of the floating landmass of ice. As the incline increased the wind scattered snow from the crest which constantly appeared harder to reach.