by Jon Schafer
Mary gave a gasp.
“That's not all. This was right in the beginning, when all the bad shit was coming down, and not everyone was in Ricky's corner. He wanted total control, so he called a few of his trusted Ushers up to the bridge. He picked the sneaky bastards who were just like him and laid it all out to them; how the religious shit was all a scam, but they could have the run of the ship if they followed him. All seven agreed and they became his Head Ushers.”
“You said before that there were five Head Ushers,” Susan pointed out.
Sheila shrugged and said, “Shit happened. A stinker bit one and another got too out of hand. He was drinking too much and raped a couple of the women, so Ricky had the others take him out.” Sheila drained her glass of wine and held it out to Brain. Once he had filled it, she drank down half and continued, “So Ricky and his guys wait until it gets dark and there's no one around. They carry the bodies of the crew from the bridge and dump them in a couple of the lifeboats and let the tide take them away. He told me they disabled the rest of the lifeboats while they were up there so that no one could leave. The next morning, Ricky gets on the PA system and tells everyone that, in the middle of the night, the crew abandoned ship and left them to fend for themselves, but he says that now he's in control and everything will be all right. God sent him to save them.”
“And people believed him?” Susan asked incredulously.
Sheila thought about this for a moment before answering, “A lot of people believed him, but most just followed along because he got the generators up and running, and his Head Ushers kept anyone from getting out of hand. He's a smooth sonof-a-bitch, and he talked the fence sitters over to his side, too. After that, he had the majority of the people behind him, so anyone who stood up to him got disappeared. I think everyone knows what's going on, but it’s just better to go with the flow.”
“Like the Jews did with Hitler in Germany,” Susan pointed out.
“Don't know nothing about that, sweetheart,” Sheila said with a smile.
“But you knew what was going on and went with the flow,” Steve said with disgust.
Acting as if this was of no concern to her, Sheila shrugged and replied, “I'm a survivor.” Changing gears quickly, she brightened and said, “So, back to my story.” Turning to Mary, she added, “You're gonna love this. So anyway, Seth and Raymond are crowding me at the bar, and I know I'm in deep shit. I act like I don't have a clue as to what they're there to do. I come onto them and offer to fuck them in a three-way.”
Sheila laughed drunkenly, “They couldn't get their clothes off fast enough.” Finishing the last of her wine, she reached over and took the bottle out of Brain's hand. Upending it, she drained off the last few swallows and said, “I carry a knife, and I stuck it in Brother Raymond's chest while his pants were down around his knees and pushed him into Seth. I took off like - what did the talking bush call it?” She laughed as she remembered, “A candy assed baboon.”
Sheila was swaying and her eyes were unfocused as she mumbled, “Ran down here hoping you people would help me out, but then that bunch of stinkers came out of nowhere.”
“Where do they come from?” Steve asked. Connie and Tim had both told him that it was rare to see any of the dead wandering the ship. Then all of the sudden, seven of them show up in the span of a few minutes.
The large amount of alcohol that Sheila had taken in that day took effect, so she could only mumble something in reply before laying her head down on her arms. But what Steve thought he heard her say shocked him. Knowing her answer was vital to their survival, he picked up a pitcher of water, walked around to stand next to Sheila and unceremoniously dumped it over her head.
So drunk she could barely raise up, Sheila nonetheless was aware enough to know what had happened. She started cursing, but was cut off when Steve slammed the flat of his hand down on the table next to her, causing a loud boom to echo through the dining room and making her sit upright with a jerk.
“Where the fuck did those Z’s come from?” He demanded.
“Sometimes a few of them just show up.” Sheila screamed at Steve. Dropping her voice, she said, “No one knows where they come from. It's a big ship with lots of places to hide. But most of the time they show up because Ricky needs to keep the Faithful in line.”
“That’s what you said before. What the hell does that mean,” Steve asked harshly.
“Scared people stay in line and need someone to protect them. Every once in a while he lets a couple of the freaks out from the quarantine area to stir up some fear. Ricky lets them out. They're his.”
Steve and Heather locked eyes across the dining table before turning their gaze again to Sheila who had dropped her head back down on her arms. At first Steve thought she might be crying until he realized she had passed out and was snoring softly. Mary surprised everyone by jumping up and almost running to Sheila's side. Stroking her hair gently, she said, “Poor baby.” Turning on Steve she spit out, “All she's been through and you're interrogating her like she's a criminal or something.”
Steve ignored this as he considered what he'd just heard. The only one to pay attention was Susan, who felt a flash of jealousy at the attention Mary was giving the redhead. She wanted to point out that Sheila was nothing but a drunken whore but held herself in check as a thought came to her. Maybe this is my out. If Mary's fawning all over Sheila, she'll lose interest in me.
With a smile, Susan said to her semi-ex, “Why don't we find somewhere to lay her down? You can keep an eye on her and make sure she's okay.”
“Make sure she doesn't puke in her sleep and choke on it,” Steve added in an annoyed voice.
“But I don't even have a place set up. Where can I take her,” Mary asked in a voice just begging for someone to come to her rescue.
Steve cringed inwardly. He was about to tell Mary that it was her own fault when Brain spoke up, “I grabbed your mattress when I brought mine in. I can go out to the boat and get another for Sheila.”
Looking at Steve in triumph, Mary said, “At least there's one gentleman on this boat.”
Steve was about to object and tell Mary to get the mattress herself when he decided he didn't want to expend the energy arguing with her. With so many other things stacking up that needed his attention, he resolved it would be easier to just let it ride. “Go ahead Brain. Help her get Sheila out of here. Go and get the extra mattress and then get some sleep. You've got guard duty at the stairs in about four hours.”
Brain and Mary each grabbed one of Sheila's arms and half-walked, half dragged her through the dining room. The last thing Steve heard as they went out the door into the Centrum was Mary saying, “It's so nice that you put my mattress in the T shirt shop, Brain, but I really wanted to put it in the Birkenstock shoe store. I love the smell of all that leather. Be a dear and move it for me?”
Worried that he hadn't had a chance to talk to Brain about Mary yet, Steve was relieved to see Connie following them through the dining room. The dark haired beauty called out, “I'll give them a hand. I don't want Randy to get lost in the dark on his way back.”
Randy? Steve asked himself. Who in the hell is Randy? Then it came to him, Randy was Brain’s real name. Shaking his head rapidly to clear his overtaxed mind, he sank into his chair and reached for his wine glass. Remembering that he had to relieve Tick-Tock at the stairs, he let his hand drop to the table. He needed a clear mind for the next few hours.
“That little tidbit of info about Ricky using the dead to terrorize his people and keep them in line was kind of a shocker,” Heather commented.
“Sounds like I should have let Tick-Tock shoot that asshole when he first brought the idea up.” Steve said bitterly.
“Bad move,” Susan said. “Like you said before, we don't need a hundred of his fanatical followers coming down on us.”
Steve nodded, but a growing dislike for Ricky welled up in him. All his life, he'd hated seeing the strong prey on the week or someone use and manipulate other
s for their own selfish needs. And to make it worse, there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it without putting his own people's lives at risk. Resolving that somehow Ricky would be dealt with before he left the ship, he turned his attention to Heather.
“So, what's the plan?” She asked.
“Stay alive, get Cindy somewhere they can study her blood or spit, find a cure for the HWNW virus and live happily ever after. But first we need to get off this ship with the supplies we'll need to get to Florida or Texas. Whichever's closer.” Looking at his watch, he was surprised to see it was after eleven. “I've got to relieve Tick-Tock so he can get some rest, but I think it would be a good idea to put distance between us and the Dead Calm as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we start gathering supplies. If we bust ass, we can probably set sail by mid to late afternoon. In the meantime, we need to double the guard. I want two people on those stairs at all times and no one should be moving around alone. We can shut ourselves into the stores when we sleep.”
Looking across the dining room to where the two youngest members of the group sat watching them, Steve called out, “Tim, are you tired?”
“Not at all.”
“Good, then you're on watch with me. Go tell Tick-Tock I’ll be there in a few minutes, and we can clean up the bodies.”
Excited at the prospect of being asked to participate in an adult duty, Tim bolted for the door.
“He's a little young for guard duty,” Susan pointed out.
“No one's young anymore. Don't worry, he won't be shooting. I need him for a second pair of eyes to help keep watch. I also want to go over the floor plan of the ship with him and get him to show me the back ways he uses to get around. I want to know if he's seen a sextant or a nautical almanac. If he has, I want to know where, so we can grab it.”
Rising, Steve said to Susan, “You and Brain will take over the watch from me. Take one of the radios, and I’ll call you when it's your turn. Please feed Tick-Tock, and then tuck him in. Make sure he gets some sleep tonight though. Don't wear him out. I need him fresh tomorrow.”
Blushing, Susan asked, “What do you mean?”
“I'm a light sleeper,” Steve replied with a smile, “especially when I’m on a boat. I hear a noise at night and I get up to investigate.” Turning to Heather, he said, “I’ll walk you to your door. You need to get some sleep too.”
Looking at the dirty plates and glasses scattered across the two tables, Susan asked, “What about the mess?”
Steve grabbed the four corners of the tablecloth and picked them up. Dishware clanked as he made a neat bundle. Carrying it toward the kitchen, he said to Susan, “Grab the other one. We’ll dump them in the trash.”
With the thousands of place settings stored on the ship, he wasn't going to waste time washing dishes that no one would ever use again. Susan copied him, and in no time they had the dinner mess taken care of. Susan called Cindy over and told the little girl she had just volunteered to help clean up the kitchen. Even if they were leaving tomorrow, they still had a few meals to cook and she didn't want anyone getting food poisoning. Before leaving, Steve suggested she keep her rifle close by.
As he and Heather walked out of the dining room, she asked, “So what do you think about Sheila telling us the ship is going to sink?”
“In a couple weeks, she said. We’ll be long gone by then,” he assured her.
“And the people left on board?” She asked. “We just leave them?”
Steve knew where this line of questioning was going and didn't want to follow it. Irritated, he said, “They've got lifeboats. All they have to do is load the first one with people and tow another full of gas. They can make it to land, no problem. I don't know why Ricky or one of his people didn't think of it.”
“Sheila said that the Ushers disabled most of the lifeboats,” Heather pointed out.
Steve stopped and faced her, trying but failing to keep the frustration out of his voice as he said, “I don't like what Ricky's doing to the people on this boat, and it really pisses me off, but I can't make myself responsible for them. I can warn them that the ship's sinking, but then it's in their hands. I’d like to save the world, but I can't. The best I can do is keep us alive.”
Suddenly realizing how much pressure Steve was under from having to make decisions that might result in one of them, or all of them, becoming dead or undead, Heather regretted pushing him. They had enough going on without trying to save over a hundred people who put themselves in this situation, and this wasn't even considering the fact that they would kill them at the whim of a religious maniac. Although she knew she would do anything Steve asked of her, she saw that her responsibilities paled in comparison to his.
With downcast eyes, she said, “I’m sorry. I know you have a lot to deal with without adding more.”
Feeling like an ass for losing it, Steve took her in his arms and said, “No, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.”
After a moment, Heather asked ruefully, “Did we just have out first fight?”
“Yeah, but the makeup sex is worth it,” he said and pulled her closer.
Heather laughed and pulled away. “Not right now though, you have guard duty.”
“Responsibility blows,” he said dejectedly.
Cutting across the miniature golf course to get to the starboard side of the Centrum, Heather was once again amazed at the variety of shops and activities on the cruise ship. Coming to a short, decorative wooden fence that separated the mini-golf course from the walkway, she noticed a warning sign on the barricade from the Astroturf onto a strip of real grass. As Steve stepped over it Heather cleared her throat and pointed to the sign which read ‘Please Keep Off Grass.’ In a mock angry tone, she asked, “Can't you read?”
Glancing at the sign, Steve responded, “I thought it was an anti-drug slogan.” Looking again, he added, “Maybe I’ll come back later and change it, so it says, 'Please Keep Off Grass. Smoke Crack.”
Heather laughed and the residual tension between them evaporated, “Your mind works in strange ways, Wendell.”
Steve smiled, shrugged and continued on. As they neared the grand staircase, he un-slung his rifle and held it at the ready. Although everything might seem peaceful and quiet, he knew that didn't mean squat when you were aboard the Dead Calm. Reaching the planters, he called out softly for Tick-Tock. Fear rippled through him when there was no answer. Tightening his grip on the M-4, he looked around for any trace of his second in command or Tim and was relieved when he heard Tick-Tock call out to him from behind the rolled down metal gate of a darkened jewelry store.
“Thought it might be best to find a new spot, in case the guy watching from the deck above spotted me before he hauled ass. You have to go back down to the access door next to the Sunglass Hut and come in through the rear to get in.”
Steve and Heather did as instructed. Once they were in the passageway behind the shops, Heather said, “This is where we part company. I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll keep the radio on though. Call if you need me, I’m just a few stores down.” Stretching up to kiss him, she added, “Wake me up when you come in.”
Steve found the back of the jewelry store and entered through the pried open door. Making his way through the darkened shop, he found Tick-Tock and Tim at its doorway facing in opposite directions so they could cover both the stairs and the length of the Centrum. He filled Tick-Tock in on what Sheila had revealed before she passed out and explained his decision to pack up and haul ass.
Tick-Tock nodded in agreement and said, “Then we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. I’m gonna eat and get some sleep. It's too bad we have to leave, I’ve only seen a little bit of it, but I know I could spend a week checking this ship out.”
Moving over to one of the showcases, he looked down and said, “Rolexes are on sale. I’m gonna get one before we go. You should grab one too.”
After Tick-Tock left, Steve did a radio check to make sure he could contact the others. Hea
ther, Brain and Susan replied instantly, letting him know they would be sleeping lightly and listening with one ear in case he called for help.
Despite being up since early that morning, Steve wasn't tired. He decided to let the others get some much-needed rest and stretched his shift out to five and a half hours. He spent most of the extra time going over the ship's diagram that Tick-Tock had pried off the wall, marking in red pen the routes Tim used to move undetected through the Calm of the Seas.
Susan showed up shortly after Steve called and told him Brain was right behind her. When Brain arrived, they dragged the bodies of the dead they had shot the night before behind the counter near the fire doors. Soon they would start to stink even more than they already did, but by then they should have set sail. Steve briefed Brain and Susan on the areas to watch, and then headed for the Captain's Clothes store. He finally found it after two wrong turns but stopped before entering. Heather had left a short note taped to the door, along with an object that made him laugh out loud.
The note read, ‘Use this to wake me.’ Below it was a long, fluffy feather.
Chapter Eight
Quantico, Virginia:
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs called the meeting to order over the speakerphone.
“The first order of business is the President, and it's not good news,” he announced with mock severity. “I’ve been informed that he's issued federal warrants for our arrest.”
This statement was met with laughter from the rest of the men listening in from different military bases scattered across the country.