by West, Lee
Making her way through the other hungry passengers to the back of the ship, she noticed their table was free. It took all of her strength not to make a dash to the gem of a spot in order to secure it one last time. As she approached, a small child walked over to the table and yelled, “How about this one, Mommy?” Her mind reeled as she looked around, trying to quickly find a substitute. “No, baby, that one’s too small. We need room for Daddy and Robby too.” The child floated away disappointed, leaving Meg the opportunity to snag the table.
Settling into her usual seat, she sipped her juice and waited for Joe. The cold sweet beverage felt great going down. After the night she’d had, she intended to drink as much liquid as possible to try to replenish what she’d lost to her bout of seasickness. Although she didn’t like getting sick, she was very relieved it was only the one time; for the rest of the trip, she’d felt fantastic.
“I can’t believe this. We’re going to miss our flight! Are they going to pay for it?” yelled a woman at the next table to her companion.
Meg always made an attempt not to listen in to other people’s conversations at restaurants. However, the woman spoke loudly in a heavy New York accent, her voice cutting through the other background noise in the restaurant and catching her attention.
“Of course not! And the worst part about it is that we don’t even know when we’re getting in. And our damned phones don’t work! How can the captain not know when we’re getting in? It’s unbelievable. You wait until we get home, this cruise line is getting the worse review I have ever written. You’ll see!” yelled the man in an equally heavy New York accent.
Meg wondered what the passengers were talking about. She thought they were due to enter the port in about an hour. Looking out to the vast ocean in front of her, it occurred to her that they did seem a little far away from port for getting in so soon. As she was trying to listen more intently to the conversations around her, Joe walked up to the table.
“Hey, beautiful!” he said, putting the coffees in front of her.
“Thanks, but I looked in the mirror this morning. I wouldn’t exactly call a face that was up half the night in a toilet beautiful, but I’ll accept the compliment,” she said dryly.
“This should help!” said Joe, pushing her drink to her.
Meg leaned over and inhaled the drink’s strong aroma. The heady mix of coffee and alcohol was an intoxicating combination.
“Something weird is happening. I think we missed an important announcement from the captain. That couple over there was just talking about us not getting in on time. Did you hear anything from Mike?”
“Sure did,” said Joe, shifting uncomfortably.
“Well, what is it?”
“Mike said the crew was told that the ship’s electrical is fried, and we’ve lost communications with both Port Lorraine and the Coast Guard. He thinks an EMP hit the U.S., causing some sort of major catastrophe.”
“That’s just crazy. I’ve never heard of anything like that. Maybe it’s a good thing that we’re out here. He can’t be serious.”
“He’s serious. Mike said the ship’s radio is fine, but no one is answering. Like either they’re all too busy with other stuff to care or something hit their radios, causing them to be dark,” said Joe with a shaky voice.
“Geez, you’re serious. I’ve never seen you this upset. Try to settle down. It can’t be that bad. Besides, if something did actually happen, maybe this is the best place for us? We might’ve gotten lucky with the timing.”
“That’s just the thing. According to Mike, the ship is nearly out of food, as it normally would be at this point in a cruise. The ship needs to refuel and stock up on supplies. Without being able to communicate with the shore, we’re just sort of—”
“Floating around out here on our own,” she said, interrupting him. “What about just driving the ship to shore? Why doesn’t the captain get closer to have a look? Can’t they just use hand signals or something?”
“No way. If the captain isn’t getting any sort of confirmation from the shore, it’s not possible for him to just drive in. The ship is far too big to pull into port without guidance from the pilot boat. Those tugs basically land the ship in the right spot. Without their assistance, the ship wouldn’t be able to maneuver into the port safely. Unless the captain hears from the port, he either has to stay out here floating around or go somewhere else, hoping for a different outcome at another port.”
“Holy shit. This is bad. Like really bad. Darn it. Here I thought we had an extension to our vacation; now all I can think about is getting off this floating death trap.”
“That’s what Mike said. He thinks the captain will have to start consolidating rooms and shutting down toilets to save energy. They will also have to ration food.”
“Ration food too? Geez. This is nuts.”
“I know. I think we need to try to stay calm and see what happens. If the captain decides to try a different port, he’ll do so sooner rather than later. If he does, then we can figure out what we want to do.”
“What do you mean? I don’t see us having any options other than going with the ship to wherever it takes us. What else can we do?”
“Mike is talking about escaping the ship on one of the lifeboats.”
“Stealing a lifeboat? No way. I’d like to not have a criminal record. I’ve managed to go all this time without serving jail time, and I’d like to continue the winning streak,” she said sarcastically.
“That’s what I said too. But then as I walked over here, I started to think about it. If neither the Coast Guard nor the shore is responding, then it’s either something very localized or it’s going on all up and down the coast. If that’s the case, we’re dead if we stay here. The ship just can’t support all of us without new supplies.”
Meg looked past Joe to the other passengers. Many appeared to be very healthy eaters, people who would not handle food rationing well. She suspected many of them would simply not comply, leaving the rest to starve.
“Maybe you’re right. Who would be around to catch us? And if the captain starts to leave the area, we’d be really screwed. Then we couldn’t just get to shore and manage to make it home. We’d be who knows where. I don’t know, it’s a lot to take in.”
“I know. It is for me too. I just would rather take our chances than slowly starve to death on this boat. Once the auxiliary power starts to fail, things are going to get bad quickly. I don’t want to be around if that happens.”
“Me neither.”
“For now, while there’s food, I plan to stuff myself. You ready to eat?”
“More than ready. In fact, I plan to stuff myself and my purse. Who knows, if Mike is correct, grabbing some extra food now wouldn’t be the worst thing we could do for ourselves.” Meg adjusted her oversized bag between her and Joe, patting the side of it for emphasis.
“Now I feel like I’m traveling with my grandmother. She always hid crackers in her pockets at buffets.”
“Just crackers? I plan to grab half the bakery!”
“That’s why I love you, you always focus on the important things.”
“Cookies and scones always make things better,” she said with a wink.
Meg grabbed Joe’s arm as they walked to the omelet station. She knew he was right; getting off the ship would be their best chance of survival. However, if they were wrong, the bold move would land them in jail. Making a decision seemed nearly impossible because they didn’t have all of the facts. They were using other people’s opinions to push them in a direction. From her experience, those sorts of decisions were the type people usually regretted.
— 10 —
Mike finished his shift at the outdoor deck bar and then headed below deck to the crew cafeteria for his lunch break. The ship gave him a thirty-minute lunch, which seemed unfair and stingy. Getting to the crew cafeteria always took at least ten minutes, and then to get back to his station would take him another ten minutes, leaving only ten minutes to eat and
rest. It was hardly a break. Most days it felt like a stressful run for food. Today was no different. He moved as quickly as possible, anxious to eat and meet with Frank.
The large crew cafeteria had long rows of stationary tables and bench seating. Their eating and sleeping quarters were far less glamorous than those enjoyed by the passengers. The crew’s experience on the ship was no different than it would be on a merchant marine or Navy vessel, unless one was an officer. The officers on board enjoyed an upscale dining facility with linen tablecloths and real china, unlike the drab metal tables and dinged-up dishes used by the crew.
The food line was short this afternoon, allowing Mike to quickly load his tray and find a table. Looking across the large dining room, he didn’t immediately see Frank until the man stood and waved to him.
“Burgers and fries again, lunch of champions,” said Mike as he sat on the bench.
“Nothing but the best for the crew. Did you notice the sign allowing us to take only one burger? The old man has already started rationing,” said Frank.
“I thought we’d have at least until dinner. For this meal, I figured I’d load myself up to the brim; guess I was wrong,” said Mike, taking a bite from his burger.
The lukewarm almost hard burger tasted dry and unsatisfying to Mike. If this was his last substantial meal on the ship, it would definitely not be one to remember.
“You talk to Wes?” he asked.
“Sure did. Wes said we’re screwed. The electrical is completely fried, confirming my suspicions that this was caused by an EMP,” said Frank as he dipped a cold French fry in ketchup.
“I was hoping you’d have better news to report. I’m so frustrated that I can’t reach Sharon. Neither my phone nor laptop will turn on.”
Mike had used his laptop almost every night to video call Sharon and the kids. Seeing his family on a daily basis helped him get through the often-lonely days and nights. Even though he talked to people all day, he never felt connected. The conversations felt hollow to him somehow. The space could only be filled by seeing his wife and kids, even if it was just a short video chat.
Continuing, Mike said, “It would be nice if we actually knew for sure that the situation is as grim as you believe. I want to leave on a lifeboat, but if we’re wrong, we’d be in deep shit, to say the least.”
“I hear you. It’s a tough call, but I really don’t see how we can confirm if anything as large as an EMP really happened. We have no internet, phones, or news of any sort. It’s frustrating as shit. I don’t want to get in trouble either, believe me,” said Frank earnestly.
The men sat quietly eating, each absorbed in thoughts. As Mike was about to say something, a group of security officers entered the room. They were dressed in white uniforms, which were intended to blend in with the ship’s scenery. Vacationing passengers wanted to know the ship was secure but didn’t want to see security. Their presence had a jarring effect on most people.
“That’s odd,” said Frank, nodding to the men entering the room.
“What is?”
“They’re carrying.”
“What? I didn’t notice,” said Mike, turning to get a better look at them.
Each of the men had a sidearm attached to their uniform. Normally, the ship’s security would only be armed in certain ports. Generally, until the ship moved closer to port, security would walk the ship’s spaces unarmed.
“Shit’s hit the fan for sure. There’s no way the captain would risk freaking out the passengers with armed security unless he had to.”
A young man approached the table and sat next to Frank.
“Hey there! How’s it going?” he asked as he settled in.
“Fair to poor, you?” said Frank.
“About the same. Captain has us moving passengers this afternoon. It’s a bitch and so are some of our guests,” said the man with a quick laugh. “I’m Sam, by the way, housekeeping,” he said with a broad smile.
“Mike and Frank, bartending and maintenance,” said Mike, introducing them.
“How many people do you need to move?” asked Frank.
“About three hundred and fifty. Captain wants to consolidate everyone on the top decks, you know, fill in the gaps. If you ask me, those people got lucky. Nothing beats being above the waterline,” said the man through a mouthful of food.
“Did they give any reason for the move?” asked Mike.
“Nope. Just told us to get them packed and resettled as quickly as possible,” said the man with a light air about him. “Hey, Trudy!” he said, smiling to another crewmember as she passed. The woman lingered for a moment at their table. The seats were all taken near Frank and Mike, preventing her from sitting.
“I see two over there!” she said excitedly.
Sam quickly got up from the table. “Sorry, guys, she’s a lot prettier than either of you.”
“Good point. See ya, man,” said Frank.
After Sam walked away, Mike lowered his voice and said, “I don’t think that guy has a clue about our situation. He’s acting like this is just another day at sea.”
“Seriously. Looks like his mind is on other things at the moment,” said Frank, nodding to the couple. They sat close with their heads almost touching, laughing and chatting as they ate. “Those people are probably being moved because the shitters are being turned off. We got the order to start closing sections of the sewer lines just before lunch. I assumed they’d leave the passengers in their rooms. Guess I was wrong,” said Frank.
“Just like you said would happen,” said Mike.
“Yep. Captain has to divert energy where he can. I’m just hoping we don’t have a major backup like we did on that one cruise.”
“I remember it well. The passengers were ripping mad to see their own shit backing up into their staterooms. Do you think that could happen again?”
“I hope not, but yeah, it’s a possibility. Problem is, unlike the last time, we probably won’t be able to fix it so easily. We could literally be tooling around in a floating shit can.”
“That’s not good,” said Mike, glancing at his watch. “I need to scramble to deck eleven for shots and bingo. You know where to find me.”
“Shots and bingo. That’ll make things right for the passengers,” said Frank with a smile.
Mike moved quickly, mindful that he had exceeded his break time, causing the bartender he would relieve to have to stay a few extra minutes. Feeling bad for his fellow worker, he pressed the elevator button, hoping for a quick ride.
— 11 —
Nancy sat at the dressing table in their stateroom, getting ready for dinner. Generally a light packer, she didn’t have anything clean to wear for the extra night on the ship. She was forced to go through her previously worn clothing and pick the best of the worst for dinner. Although she and Brett never dressed too formally, she wanted to look clean and presentable. Brushing her chin-length salt-and-pepper hair one last time, she looked at her image, admiring herself. Exercise and proper nutrition were her keys to staying fit and young looking, and her regime worked. People were always surprised to hear how many years she had been at the university, assuming she was a much younger professor.
“Hey, Nanc, come and look at this,” said Brett from the balcony.
“What is it?” she said as she grabbed the binoculars.
“I think we’re turning directions again.”
“Seems like we’re moving in a slow circle like we have been since last night. I don’t see any change.”
“Me neither. I just wanted you to confirm what I’m seeing in case my mind is playing tricks on me. What do you think the captain is doing?”
“I feel like he’s stalling for time. If it was an EMP, there’s no way the ship has been able to make contact with shore. Who knows, maybe we’re waiting for a Coast Guard rescue? I wish they’d give us some information. It’s really frustrating,” she said, handing him the binoculars.
Straightening herself up, she leaned against the railing, looking out
onto the dark sea. This vacation was supposed to be a relaxing time together. A chance for them to see the meteorite shower and enjoy the islands. Instead, it had turned into one of her worst nightmares. She always worried about being caught away from home when tragedy hit. The prepping literature always made survival seem so easy. All one had to do was assemble the right items and they’d be all set. So much for being all set, she thought with a shake of her head.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Brett.
“Just considering all the things we have at home stockpiled and waiting for us. All that preparation and here we are a couple of prisoners floating to God knows where. I’m just feeling very stressed out about all of this and want more information.”
Brett stood and moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her. She melted into his embrace, feeling his warmth, knowing she was always safe in his arms.
“You’re not kidding about the lack of information. Even the people relocated up here didn’t seem to know anything. Like they just moved them without a proper explanation. So either our esteemed captain has no information to share, or he’s hiding what he knows. Either scenario isn’t good.”
“I think they were just happy to be on higher decks. Some of them were put into balcony suites. Not a rough turn of events for them. And I agree, the captain either knows more than he’s saying, or he really has no information. Either way we’re screwed. You about ready to head out for dinner?”
“Yes! I’m starving. I plan to eat as much as possible tonight. Who knows how much food the ship has left.”