by Ison, S. A.
He called up his computer virus, and deleted the fail-safes. He also took out some of the parameters that would have kept his country safe from the worm he was about to set free. Tears spilt down on his hand, now trembling with effort. He could hear the air bubble in his chest, and saw the bloody bubbles coming from his nose and mouth like scarlet balloons.
He looked at the time. It was 2:10 p.m. He brought his finger down on Enter.
Topsfield, Maine
Tim lay half-sprawled in the outhouse, a brightly-flowered quilt covering his shivering body. Kelly had propped a pillow against the corner, and his head rested against it. It had taken most of the morning to get the vomiting and diarrhea under control. He slept fitfully now, but he slept.
Kelly was dead tired, and afraid; her body still trembled. She’d built up the fire and kept hot water going, along with glasses and glasses of honey and cinnamon water. She knew the cinnamon would help the lining of his stomach, which she as sure was raw from the vomiting. He had only eaten a couple of bites of the rice, but it had stayed down. She knew Tim would die of dehydration before anything else killed him. His body had expelled so much liquid that his organs would begin to shut down if it wasn’t replaced.
She called Lisa Runoff, one of her best friends from her days in the navy, on her smartphone. Lisa had been a corpsman, and later trained to be a nurse. She now worked in Jacksonville, Florida, enjoying not only her job, but the sun and the beach life.
“I’d just keep him there with you, Kelly. Trying to move him may well kill him. If you could get him to a hospital that would be better, but from what I understand, the hospitals are filling up faster than they can handle. A lot of them have shut down. Most down here in Florida have, and the elderly are dropping like flies. Do you have any antibiotics? They should help with the upper respiratory issues,” Lisa said. “If he hasn’t died yet, then I don’t think he will. Taking him out of there may expose others too. I’ve heard rumors that some killing anyone turning up with the virus.”
“What!?” Kelly exclaimed, then looked over her shoulder at Tim, who was resting, but twitching and restless, emitting soft moans.
“It’s just a rumor, but so many cases are turning up, they are putting the people who bring them in into isolation, and no one is seeing anyone come out of isolation. So, you know, rumors are flying fast and furious.”
“Crap.” Kelly scrubbed her face. “I think I have some antibiotics that were for the dog, but I don’t know if those will help Tim.” Fear swirled around Kelly’s tired brain. She was looking up into the sky, it was clear and beautiful. She saw two airplanes in the distance. She wondered idly when had the flight patterns changed. She’d not noticed planes flying over before.
“Okay, what else can I do for him? I don’t have a lot in medical supplies. Just the normal Neosporin, aspirin, Band-Aids, and so on.”
“Hydration is the most important thing. It sounds like you’ve got a handle on that. And the dog’s antibiotics should be good. He might die without them, so either way, it is your best bet to give them to him, and….”
The cell phone went silent. “What the hell?” Kelly said, eyes still tracking the two planes. As she watched, one of the planes nosed downward, then began a spiral. Transfixed, she watched as the other aircraft began to list, then began its own spiral. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a cry. It was some time before she realized it was her own voice. She clutched the cell phone to her chest in horror as she watched two planes plunge to the earth, somewhere in the distant forests of Maine.
Kelly’s brain could not register the plunging airliners. She could hear herself crying, but couldn’t seem to understand what was happening. She looked down at her phone, and a scream rose in her throat. In horror, she watched a worm munch its way across the screen. She saw the message. She threw the smart phone down in denial and stomped on it, and kept stomping until bits of phone were scattered across the grass.
The chickens hurried over and began pecking at the bits of plastic and wire. Finding nothing edible, they wandered off in search of things that were. Kelly watched them, part of her brain trying to re-fire into some kind of coherent thinking. Then she heard Tim’s weak voice calling her. Turning, she saw that he had fallen out of the outhouse. The absurdly bright quilt had fallen to the ground.
Squatting down, she got her shoulder beneath his armpit, and eased him back onto the wooden seat. She sniffed loudly and tried to wipe at her tears as she adjusted the quilt around his shoulders, trying to keep him covered. She then looked into his blue eyes, so like faded jeans; beneath his eyes were dark circles, and his face was creased in pain. He was incoherent. She wanted to wake up from the nightmare her reality had become.
MS Aloha Pearl, Pacific Ocean
The cruise ship MS Aloha Pearl sailed the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. She’d left Honolulu six days ago. With the deadly virus running amok around the world, several of the working cruise ships had combined guests and put them on the Aloha Pearl. It would be the last cruise, because it was becoming increasingly dangerous to house humanity in such close confines.
There had been a stringent screening process for all the guests and their families. Normal capacity for the Aloha Pearl was over five thousand souls; this cruise, there were only eight hundred people including the staff and crew, who were spread thin. Captain Ellis Lumberman had been surprised that Harbor Cruise Line had even allowed the cruise. Money, Lumberman thought sardonically. He was sure they had lost a lot, what with people dropping dead. How inconvenient.
He stalked around the bridge, looking out the large window over the Pacific. The water was beautiful, and the sun had been up for over an hour. He knew the guests would be up and on the decks in a couple hours. Many enjoyed sleeping in.
Behind him, his crew worked quietly. It was a skeleton crew; sadly, many of the people he’d known over the years had already died because of the virus. Here he was on a ship full of guest, trying to escape the sadness and forget what was happening around them. Had he a family, he sure as hell wouldn’t be on this barge.
“Sir?” Ensign Malory called.
Captain Lumberman turned, his questioning gaze aimed at the young man.
“Sir, something is wrong with navigation. Look, sir.” Ensign Malory’s voice broke.
Captain Lumberman walked over and looked at the screen; there he saw a worm munching its way across the screen, eating all the navigation data.
“Shit!” Lumberman hissed.
Malory looked at his captain.
Suddenly, the whole ship went quiet. The normal humming and beeping of the machines, the hum and vibration of the ship, just stopped. As Lumberman watched, Malory’s eye grew wide and fearful, his mouth hanging open. His hands beginning to shake.
Turning, he ordered Thad Malory to get two other crewmen and go to the armory to get weapons and flashlights. He turned to Packwood and told her to get down to the kitchen, halt food preparations, and secure it until further notice.
“Also, have the head chef bring me the perishable supply list. I want to see what food we do have left.” Lumberman said, rubbing his hand thoughtfully over his chin.
“And have Quinn report to the bridge. Tell all staff members you can find to assemble on the Palm deck. Other crew members are to assist you. Calmly invite all passengers to assemble there as well. Please tell them it’s an emergency. It’s really important you do this as quickly and calmly as possible.” Captain Lumberman ordered quietly, his voice calm and steady.
He’d been in the navy twenty-five years before taking the cushy job on the Aloha Pearl. He had captained this cruise ship for the past five years, and knew how to handle people. He knew they were up shit creek and had no paddle, no nothing. It was going to get bad, and it was going to get bad fast.
They didn’t have a lot of food. They’d been heading back to Honolulu, and would have docked tomorrow. Now much of the food they did have would go bad quickly without refrigeration. If he could get some of generators o
nline and keep the refrigeration going, they would at least have food, and possibly some kind of propulsion. Regardless, the food wouldn’t last long with over eight hundred crew and passengers
There were the lifeboats, but they were unless without power. Again, if they could get a generator going, they could lower the boats. They were too far out at sea, and he suspected that if they could drop the lifeboats, there would be a very slim chance of any reaching land, depending on the currents.
Lumberman knew that leaving the ship was just as deadly as staying on the ship. It was a no-win situation. They had limited water, and even less food. Captain Lumberman was now in charge of a death ship. It would be slow and gruesome. And there was no escape. He looked out over the main deck, and saw the passengers begin to gather. This wasn’t going to be easy, and he knew that when he told the passengers the situation, all hell would break loose. He rubbed his face hard, and squeezed the bridge of his nose.
Ensign Malory returned with a pistol and a bull horn, and handed both to his captain. The young man looked worried, but not frightened. That would change shortly, Lumberman thought sourly.
“Go help pass the word: all passengers are to gather on the Palm deck, along with all staff. Have all other crewmen gather up here. Once all passengers and staff are on deck, lock all exterior hatchways.”
“Captain?” Fear shot into young Thad Malory’s gray eyes.
“Do it, Ensign Malory,” Captain Lumberman said softly.
Malory nodded woodenly, and left. His body jerked as though his strings had been cut, his knees trying not to buckle beneath him. Ellis Lumberman watched the young man go, and felt sorrow for the kid. He was too young to die, and too young to see the horror that was about to unfold.
Three hours later, all the passengers and staff were finally crowded onto the Palm deck, talking excitedly among themselves. Malory came back into the bridge, pale and sweating. Below decks had become an oven. Behind Malory stood the sixteen crew members, their faces red and sweaty, fear and questions in their eyes.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed his crew quietly, “I have devastating news.”
A murmur of fear and denial rippled through the crew. “A few hours ago, we lost satellite navigation, communications, and our computer systems. What this means is that we are dead in the water. There was some kind of computer virus that has spread and has knocked all electrical power out. I don’t even know if we can get generators running to keep refrigeration going, or pump drinking water, or have toilets. I have our people working on it now, but so far, no good news. Below on the Palm deck are the eight hundred and three passengers and staff who are about to be told that they and their loved ones are going to end up starving to death or dying of thirst.”
One of the crew, Lilly Packwood, began to cry softly; her tears looked like diamonds against her soft brown skin. Mike Xavier put an arm around her and pulled her tight into himself, his face pale.
“We are a death ship. There will be no help. I’m telling you this so you will know what we are up against. We have no power to lower the lifeboats, and even if we did, we are too far out to sea to reach land, with little or no water, and little or no food. We cannot feed everyone for more than four days, maybe five, and much of the food will be spoiled in another day or so.
“We will not be able to feed ourselves. The best I can offer is a bullet and a quick death to those who want it. For those who want to try to live and survive, we have to make some hard and deadly choices.”
Lilly began to cry harder, turning her body into Mike’s, who clutched her hard to him. “Are you sure, sir?” Mike asked, his voice trembling. “There is nothing we can do? How can we sentence those people to death? What gives us or you the right?”
“As Captain, I have all the right, but it isn’t even that, Mike. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing, we can do. The below decks temperature is rising, and if we let them back into the ship, they will tear us apart. There is nothing we can do to help them. We can lower food to them, but it won’t last long. Once they hear, they’ll go berserk. They’ll storm the kitchen and kill anyone in their way. There are only eighteen of us. What do you think those passengers will do to you once they find out they’re walking dead?”
“Shit,” someone said toward the back.
“Yes, ‘Shit.’ I’m giving you each a choice, because you’re my crew. We can try to survive and hope the ship floats close enough to one of the islands that we can swim to shore, but that isn’t likely to happen any time soon, if at all. We are currently 840 miles out from Honolulu, with no propulsion; we are a cork floating in place. The question is, can you live with the deaths of those passengers? And make no mistake, they are dead. They just don’t know it yet. And so are we. We are all dead. The question is, will it be now, with a quick bullet, or slow and painful with a very small chance of making if off this ship alive? And if we live and get back to land, what awaits us there?”
The executive officer, Brandon Quinn, stepped forward. “Sir, with all due respect, I think you’re wrong. You are sentencing those people down there to death. You don’t know if we will get power back, or communications and navigation. You are assuming that we can’t. I say give it a day or so, let our people work on the problem. Let’s see then. We can tell the passengers that it is a malfunction and the power will be back soon.” Quinn’s voice rose, his panic showing.
Captain Lumberman’s lip curled. He’d never liked the young executive officer. Quinn was a sniveling back-biter. They had butted heads in the past, and he expected no less now. He knew Quinn was a coward. A rich, bored coward. He used the cruise ship to pick up women, knowing full well it was against regulations.
“We are trying now to bring up the generators and see if we can’t get this girl moving, though I honestly don’t think we’ll be able to do it. Until then, the passengers stay on deck. It’s cooler than below decks, for one. But none will be allowed back into the internal ship. If you want to go down and speak to the passengers, be my guest. Malory can escort you to the hatchway, but he locks it behind you.”
Quinn blanched at that. “You want me to tell them what’s going on?”
“You said you’d tell them it is a malfunction; we can see how that plays out.” The challenge in the captain’s eyes wasn’t missed by his crew.
Quinn straightened his spine, his face bright red. “Fine. I will go speak with them. You will see that they will understand and be patient. We don’t have to starve them out or murder them.” He said the last with malice lacing his voice, an ugly sneer crossing his handsome features.
Malory returned a short time later, puffing and wheezing. He had escorted the XO below and run back to the bridge. His shirt was open at the collar, and sweat soaked the shirt to his skin. The entire crew was watching from the bridge window, and he joined them.
They watched as the XO waved his arms to quiet the multitude down. The body postures of the passengers were angry and agitated. Children were quiet, pressing close to their parents. The crew couldn’t hear what Quinn was saying, but they could see the passenger’s reactions. Fear rippled across them like a silent, undulating wave.
“Holy shit! He is actually telling them what’s happened!” Lieutenant Andrews cried, his hands going up as though to stop Quinn.
Captain Lumberman grunted. Malory’s gaze met his.
The passengers began to surge forward, their faces turning to fearsome rage. Quinn began to shout something, waving his arms wildly. As he looked up over his shoulder toward the bridge, the crew could see the fear and dawning realization bloom on his face. He turned back to the crowd, trying to contain them with his words. Within seconds, several men had grabbed him by his flailing arms and yanked him into the sea of an angry mob.
Lilly turned her face away, hiding it in Mike’s chest, and he turned away too. The last Captain Lumberman saw of Quinn was a bloody arm sinking into the mass of humanity that was beating him to death.
Many of the crew members opted to live, an
d went down into the engine room to help in any way they could. Several stayed on the bridge while others roamed the ship, going from cabin to cabin and looking through the passenger’s belongings, hoping to find food and anything that would help the passengers. They opened doors to the cabins that had balconies, letting fresh air into the below decks.
Dulles International Airport, Virginia
On the Dulles tarmac, Flight 827 was waiting its turn for takeoff. There were two aircraft ahead of them, and it wouldn’t be long. Captain Christina Griffin looked over to her co-pilot, Carl Franklin. “I wonder if they’re going to keep flying? The plane is half full, and you know the airline isn’t going to waste money on fuel for a half load.”
“Yeah. They’re going to shut down all flights later today. This one may be our last for a while. So many pilots and crews are sick.”
“I suspect you are right,” Griffin said.
A noise, then beeping, started up. Surprised, Griffin looked at her control panel. The onboard computers were flashing, and then their systems started shutting.
“What the hell?” Griffin said, eyes wide as a worm with needle sharp teeth began to chew across the screen. The words “Welcome to the Stone Age” raced in front of the worm. Behind the worm’s path was a dark screen, nothing of technology left in its wake.
They looked at each other, confused. Then they were jolted alert by a loud explosion as the plane that had just taken off suddenly crashed back down to earth, its fuselage exploding into a ball of fire.
“Jesus H. Christ!” Griffin gasped, and jerked again as another boom shook the aircraft. She could hear passengers screaming from their cabin. Looking out her large window, she watched in horror as the planes that’d been circling the airport began to fall from the sky.