by Jon Schafer
“We could let the freaks out on deck four and block the stairs. Let the dead do our work for us,” Parsons suggested.
Shaking his head, Ricky replied, “Won't work. Four is one of the decks where the doors are still chained shut. In fact, we never even bothered to shut the watertight door down there because the fire doors are strong enough to keep the dead contained.”
“So we need to get the fire doors open,” Parsons said forcefully.
“Would you like to do it?” Ricky challenged, his frustration and anger rising at their inability to come up with a useful plan. “I’ll give you the key and you can run down the stairs and unlock them. Of course, that's if you can dodge four automatic weapons firing at your ass while you're trying to fit the fucking key in the lock.”
Parsons was about to come back with an angry retort when the two-way radio clipped to his belt buzzed. Bringing it to his mouth, he said, “Brother Parsons here.”
The voice coming through the speaker was rushed as it said, “It’s Brother Seth. I thought you should know that there's a lot of activity going on down here. They're all moving around and loading stuff. It looks like they're getting ready to leave.”
“Shit,” Ricky said angrily. “We've got to stop them.”
Holding up his hand to try and stem the tirade he knew was coming, Parsons pressed the transmit button and said, “Stay there and keep an eye on things. I'll call you back in ten minutes.”
Turning to Ricky, he said, “I've got an idea but it's a little risky. You'll need to back me on this one hundred percent or we might as well give up.”
“Anything,” Ricky said in desperation. “What's your idea?”
So Parsons told him.
***
Steve was stacking cases of plastic water bottles in a laundry cart they were using to transport supplies to the boat when Brain called him on the radio.
“Steve, man. You've got to get over to the stairs right away.”
Hearing the urgency in his voice, he grabbed his rifle with one hand while un-clipping the radio with the other. Hitting the transmit button, he asked, “What is it?”
“Just get here right away,” Brain urged.
“On the way,” he replied. Wondering what was going on now.
Although reassured by the fact that he didn't hear any gunshots or screams, he still set off at a steady jog. He was half way down the Centrum when he spotted Heather in front of a designer sunglass shop, waving him over to her. She carried her CAR l5 and had her pistol holstered at her hip. Wearing a Kevlar vest, she held another one out to him as she said, “Brain sent Susan to get me as soon as she saw we had a visitor. I told him to call you but not to say anything over the radio because I wanted to fill you in first.”
Slipping into his vest, Steve said, “So fill me in. Who is it?”
After a pause, as if not believing it herself, she said, “The Reverend Ricky.”
Stopping as he tried to figure out this new turn of events, he couldn't have been more surprised if she'd just told him that the Keebler elves had dropped by, Steve decided to concentrate on the logistics of the situation as opposed to the whys. He asked Heather, “Where is everyone?”
“After I sent Susan to tell Brain to call you, I woke Tick-Tock up and sent him to hole up in one of the shops on the port side. That way we've got a good cross fire going if the shit hits the fan. He went through the back way so no one would see him. I don't even know which store he's in, but it's Tick-Tock so I know he's there. He's wearing the other vest, and he took a couple tear gas grenades with him. Brain is with Ricky near the foot of the stairs. I had Susan fade back into the jewelry store to give him cover. I got Tim to find the others and tell them to stay where they are. Cindy's with Mary, Connie's in the ship's store and Sheila is still sleeping it off. Then Tim set up at the far end of the Centrum to make sure no one dropped in behind us.”
Steve gave her a wry smile and said, “Ruthlessly efficient are the words that come to mind.”
“Well, I never told you this before, but I used to be a cop,” she replied.
“As long as you only use your superpowers for good ...”
“So how do you want to do this?” She asked. “It doesn't smell like a setup, since it's the Reverend Ricky's ass hanging out on the line.”
That it was a setup had been the first thing to cross Steve's mind too, but Heather's reasoning made sense. Ricky had to know he'd be the first one killed if any shooting started. Unless he's crazier than I thought.
Knowing he could guess and second guess himself all morning and still not figure it out, he said to Heather, “The only way we can find out what the man wants is to ask him, so let's go.”
As Steve grew closer, he could see that Brain had his rifle pointed directly at Ricky's chest. From the menacing look on his face, he wondered if the tech would shoot him before they got there. Curious as to where this anger came from, it struck him that Connie must have told him how Ricky tried to get in her pants.
Steve stopped twenty feet away and called Brain over to him. In a low voice, he told him to find Tim and cover their rear. If anyone even looked like they were going to come down from the deck above, he was to open fire without hesitation.
Brain gave Ricky one final sneer before going into the jewelry store so he could access the back passageways. This way, no one could target him while he travelled the length of the Centrum.
You're learning fast, Brain, Heather thought.
Steve studied Ricky as his mind ran through a number of opening lines.
Hostile: What's to keep me from putting a bullet in your fat ass, fuck-boy?
Blunt: What do you want?
Friendly: Hi, my name is Steve Wendell. I've heard so much about you.
Sarcastic: If Jesus loves me, why doesn't he ever put money in my bank account?
Settling on blunt, he called out in a flat voice, “What do you want?”
Smiling and raising his hand in a wave, Ricky started to move forward and say, “You must be-,” but was stopped in his tracks when both Steve and Heather raised their rifles to point at his chest. “That's close enough,” Heather warned in a cold voice.
Sweat popped out on Ricky's fat face as he slowly raised both hands. In a fearful voice, he said, “I'm unarmed. You wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, would you?”
“I wouldn't but she might,” Steve indicated Heather with a nod of his head.
She was giving Ricky the hard look she reserved for the scumbags she'd run into in her previous career. More sweat popped on Ricky's face and he swallowed hard.
“What do you want,” Steve asked again.
“I come in peace, brother,” Ricky said.
“That didn't answer my question,” Steve said flatly.
“I've just come to tell you that neither I nor any of my followers mean you any harm,” Ricky said, while thinking, ‘If I get out of this, I'm going to have Parsons tossed to the stinkers. His great fucking idea for me to come down here and put these maniacs at ease to keep them on board is going to get me killed.’
Forcing a smile, Ricky added, “Our religion is a non-violent one.”
Heather snorted in disbelief as Steve said, “Is that why you let the dead out to walk around and terrorize people? Because that sounds kind of violent to me.”
Indignantly, Ricky replied, “Whoever told you that is a liar. They're just trying to smear my name and stop the good works I'm doing on this ship. True, we have a problem with the frea-.” Ricky caught himself before going on, “I mean, the poor souls trapped in purgatory that still wander the ship, but their occasional appearance has nothing to do with me.”
“That's not how Sheila tells it,” Heather said.
Ricky put on a thoughtful expression and said, “Ah, poor Sheila. I tried to bring her to the Lord but her alcoholism and promiscuity kept getting in the way. I'd heard she'd run off again.” Shaking his head sadly, he said, “That girl can sure tell some tales. I've urged her time and again to be truthful.”
Switching to a pious expression, he added, “You can lie to others, but the Lord knows the truth.”
Heather and Steve exchanged a look that said, 'What a load of shit,' before Steve asked, “What about the ship sinking. Is that a lie too?”
Hesitantly, Ricky replied, “We're having some trouble with a few of the pumps but we're working on it.”
To avoid further questions, he put on a humble expression and said, “Now, the other reason I came down here, besides to welcome you to the Calm of the Seas, is to be a good neighbor and ask if I can be of any assistance to you while you stay on the ship. Is there anything you need?”
Steve was about to reply that they were leaving soon but caught himself. He didn't want to give any information about their plans to this fat, bearded asshole. He oozed so much false sincerity that it made him feel physically ill. After a moments thought though, he decided, what the hell? It's not like Ricky and his people can stop us.
“We need a sextant and a nautical almanac.”
Ricky kept his joy at hearing this in check. He and Parsons had racked their brains for the reason behind the appearance of the sailboat. This request confirmed their suspicions that these people were fleeing the HWNW virus. This meant that they had nowhere to go and made it easier to convince them to stay on the ship.
At least until I throw them overboard, Ricky thought. Alive if possible.
This also confirmed his suspicion that it wasn't just their GPS that was malfunctioning, but it was a system wide failure. It had taken Brother Raymond weeks of studying the books they'd found in the Captain's quarters before he was able to figure out their position. Now that Brother Raymond was gone, one of the others would have to figure it out since it looked like GPS was going to be out of the picture for the next few generations.
Or, Ricky thought, I can find out who in this group knows how to plot a course by hand. Maybe in the upcoming slaughter I can spare them, until we reach Cozumel.
Putting on his thoughtful look again and pursing his lips, he said, “I'm sure we could find those things for you. It might take some searching, but my Faithful have quite a bit of time on their hands.”
Between the partying and orgies, I'd think they were pretty busy, Heather thought but didn't voice. If Ricky were going to give them the tools they needed to find their position, it probably wouldn't do to insult him. That didn't mean she was going to trust him, since she knew he was scum. She'd heard the stories Sheila had told. After meeting the Reverend Ricky in person though, they paled in comparison. There was something oily and slimy about him that left her feeling queasy.
Kind of like getting too close to a lawyer.
Not wanting to give up control of the conversation, Ricky continued on by saying, “Now that I've shown you my good intentions, I was hoping you'd reciprocate.”
Thinking that Ricky would ask for Sheila back, Steve was prepared to cut him off with a flat 'No'.
Instead, Ricky beamed a smile at them and said, “I just want to know your names. Your Christian names of course.”
Steve hesitated, wondering what he really wanted. Looking at Heather who only shrugged, he said, “Steve and Heather.”
Heather didn't think it possible, but Ricky's smile got bigger. “Welcome to the Calm of the Seas, Brother Steve and Sister Heather,” he cried out happily. “Please feel free to explore the ship and make yourselves at home. Even though we're running on reduced power, there are still a lot of activities that you can enjoy.” With a wink, he added, “We even power up the casino every once in a while. I mean, we're not Baptists after all.”
Steve gave a tight smile at this comment.
Not wanting to lay it on too thick at their first meeting, Ricky clapped his hands together and rubbed them back and forth while saying, “Well, I don't want to keep you any longer, so I'll take my leave. I'll get my people out searching for those items you need right away. What did you say they were again?”
“A sextant and a nautical almanac,” Steve answered.
“Consider it done,” he told them.
Ricky flashed them a peace sign and turned to go. As he walked to the stairs, he looked beyond to the double doors leading into the cabin area. One reason for coming down here was to put the newcomers at ease and keep them on board; the other was to get a good look at the chains keeping the dead in. Letting them go was still an option if their first plan failed.
Satisfied at what he saw, Ricky headed for the bridge. The whole way there thinking of how he would kill the people he'd just met.
After he was gone, Steve said in a low voice, “Now that I've met Ricky, I can see what a scumbag he really is. Before this is all over, I'm going to kill him.”
“Not if I get him first,” Heather replied.
***
Four hours later, Steve was called to the stairs again. When he arrived, he found Heather talking to a young girl. As he came closer, he heard the visitor speaking in a thick European accent. Seeing that she was carrying something in her hands, his first thought was of religious suicide bombers. Looking closer, he saw it was only a book, but this did little to ease his trepidation.
When he joined them, the girl asked with a bright smile, “You are Steve, yes?”
“I am.”
“This is good then. The Reverend ask me to give this to you please,” she said as she held out the book.
Glancing at the cover, he could read the words Nautical Almanac. Not believing Ricky had come through, he thanked the girl.
“But there is more,” she said. “The Reverend say to tell you he look for other thing more or less now. Not find soon but he will find soon.”
Steve was slightly confused by this, which was the reason Ricky sent the younger of the two sisters. Her English was barely passable. The obscure message, along with only giving one of the two things they'd asked for, had a dual purpose. Stall them, and at the same time gain their trust.
“Tell the Reverend thank you,” Steve said.
The girl turned to go, but Heather stopped her, saying she wanted to finish the conversation they were having. With a concerned look, she asked, “Does Ricky ever touch you or make you do things you don't want to? I want you to know it's wrong for adults to do this, and you can stay here if you want to. It's safe.”
The girl gave Heather a big smile and said, “But it is the Reverend Ricky. He can do no wrong. He is a man of God's choosing.”
With this, she turned and trotted up the stairs.
Steve gave Heather a curious look, so she said, “Before you showed up I was talking to her. I saw some signs that she might be abused. I used to be a cop and we were trained in what to look for.”
“And?” Steve asked.
“I’m not sure, but if I find out he is, all bets are off. His ass is all mine right there and then. Fuck his Faithful.”
With a nod, Steve said, “Then he's all yours and we take our chances with the Faithful. Until then, we need to keep a close eye on him though, because he's up to something. I had Tim sneak around the upper decks after Ricky left. Told him to do a little recon and see what was going on up there. He told me no one was looking for anything and that most of them were still sleeping off last nights drunken orgy.”
“He's slow walking us then, but why?” Heather asked.
“I don't know, but I'm only going to play this game for a little while,” Steve said.
“And then?”
“Then we take what we need,” he replied.
Chapter Ten
The Dead Calm:
Sheila finally roused herself at two; an hour after Mary first woke her to see if she was feeling all right and to see if she might want something to eat. Nauseated and lost in her misery, she could only shake her head as she tried to will herself back to sleep. When this didn't work, she shakily sat up on the mattress, wondering how she had gotten there the night before. Looking down at the disheveled clothes she'd slept in, she snorted in disgust. As she tried to smooth some of the wrinkles out of her blouse, her ja
ngled nerves caused her to jump when she heard a female voice say behind her, “I had to guess at your size, but I’m sure I got it close.”
She turned and saw Mary holding up a fashionable dress and tennis shoes with a shy look on her face.
Sheila gave a pained smile and said, “Thank you, but what I really need is a drink.”
Setting down the clothing and reaching into a basket at her feet, Mary came out with a bottle of wine in each hand and asked mischievously, “Red or white?”
“Both,” Sheila answered. Then laughed and said, “You and I are going to get along just fine. What's your name anyway?”
Mary deflated slightly at finding Sheila had forgotten her name. Seeing this, Sheila racked her brain for the good-looking blonde woman's name. Suddenly it came to her, and she said, “l'm sorry, I’m a little out of it. You're Mary.” With a small, deprecating laugh, she added, “Now I wish I could remember who the hell I am, I really tied one on last night.”
Mary giggled and forgave the good-looking redhead for her lapse in memory.
After Sheila dressed in her new clothes, the two women had a few drinks while they got acquainted and Mary filled in some of the blanks of what happened the night before. Finally deciding they needed to put something in their stomachs besides wine, the two women window-shopped as they headed for the dining room. Entering, Mary stopped them short, just inside the door, when she spotted Steve and Tick-Tock sitting at a table eating sandwiches.
“Oh God, there's Doctor Buzzkill,” Mary said in a low voice.
“Yeah, what's his problem anyway? One of the things I do remember from last night is him and some blonde chick running around looking like they just came back from a patrol in Afghanistan. I thought they were going to shoot me.”
“Steve's got a John Wayne complex or something, and his girlfriend, Heather, is not much better,” Mary said. “They're on this mission to save the world from the dead. The way I see it though, I think having zombies rise up from the grave is one of the best things that ever happened.”