Ship of the Damned

by James F. David

  The different moments in time that created the multiple levels of the ship were collapsing back into one time stream. The men who had merged with the steel of the ship were beginning to flow with time again, entering their present.

  Individual voices could be heard now, pleas for help. It was a bizarre and horrifying sight as the partial bodies around them came to life. Everyone was transfixed by it—everyone but Jett. Jett charged.

  He was only a few yards from Prophet when he sensed the attack. Prophet was slow with the unfamiliar gun, bringing it up too late. Jett bent, hitting Prophet’s arm with his shoulder, driving it back against his rib cage. Prophet went down hard, but rolled at the same time, trying to throw Jett off. Jett clawed at Prophet’s gun arm, but Prophet was an experienced bar brawler. With a full-body heave and a quick duck, Jett was thrown off. Then Prophet brought the gun around.

  Jett was shot, the slug penetrating his chest and glancing off a rib. It wasn’t a killing wound, but Prophet’s next shot would kill him. On the sharply tilted deck, it was an uphill run to Prophet. As Jett took his first step, Roberto and his other men attacked. With a two-armed swing of his machete, Roberto sliced a guard’s stomach. The wounded guard staggered into Prophet, spoiling his aim. Before Prophet could react, Roberto severed the cable connecting the gun to the gas canisters. The cable whipped violently, spraying liquid nitrogen and slapping at Prophet. Jett knew the gun held one last pellet in a charged chamber, but Prophet didn’t. Jett hit him waist high.

  Prophet cracked him on the skull with the weapon, proving that he didn’t know it was still loaded. It was a brawl now, and Prophet was formidable and brutal. Head butts, bites, and scratches came fast and furious. As they grappled, Jett judged his opponent’s strengths and mapped his moves. A minute into the fight Jett knew the outcome. Prophet wasn’t a good match. With a quick spin, Jett maneuvered himself behind Prophet, his left arm snaking around his neck, the crook of his arm pinching Prophet’s throat. Thirty seconds later Prophet’s arms stopped clawing at Jett’s head and his legs began to twitch. Hearing a sharp intake of air, Jett loosened his choke hold slightly. There was a thin line between death and anoxia, and Jett had Prophet walking that line.

  With Prophet under control, he looked to see Roberto and two surviving sailors fighting to keep reinforcements away from Jett. Releasing his grip briefly, he retrieved the gun and pressed it to Prophet’s head, dragging him to his feet at the same time.

  “Stop or I’ll kill him,” Jett shouted.

  Prophet stirred, and Jett tightened the choke hold, then tapped on Prophet’s skull with the gun. The fighting around them stopped. Slowly, word of Prophet’s capture spread, and the battle in the hangar ended. But when the sounds of battle died, the chilling pleas and moans of those trapped in the bulkheads could be heard clearly again. Those in the hangar moved away from the bulkheads, keeping out of reach of the disembodied arms which clutched randomly.

  “The cable is cut, the gun won’t work,” Prophet broadcast. “Kill them.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Jett said, looking for Compton.

  “He’s bluffing,” Prophet repeated.

  Prophet’s men advanced; Roberto and his men were ready to defend. Jett let Prophet’s men take two more steps, then pulled the gun from Prophet’s head and shot one of the advancing Crazies. Then the gun was at Prophet’s head again.

  “Take another step and your god is dead,” Jett said.

  Prophet didn’t broadcast now, uncertain of how the weapon worked.

  “Clear the way,” Jett ordered. “Call off the attack.”

  He pushed Prophet forward, and the Crazies parted.

  “Give us Kellum,” Prophet said.

  “He’s no use to you now,” Jett said. “The ship is doomed.”

  “It’s not too late,” Prophet said. “Doctor Kellum can repair the generator.”

  As Jett and Prophet moved forward, the Crazies stepped aside, watching for an opportunity. Jett moved slowly over the sloped deck, making sure of each step. Soon he could see where the Crazies had prepared their ambush. The shield was lying in the hangar, Kellum’s men having pushed it all the way down the corridor. Dead and wounded men lay everywhere, the injured adding to the moans coming from the bulkheads. Jett realized that if the war continued much longer, there would be no one left to escape. Then the rest of the Crazies parted, and he saw the shine of Compton’s fire suit. Eyes busy, she quickly appraised the situation, her eyes coming to rest on the severed gun cable. Then she smiled and raised her gun.

  TRAPPED

  The battle raged on outside the storeroom where Elizabeth, Wes, and Ralph had taken cover. Elizabeth could still see Anita standing next to her, arms wrapped around her leg. Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, but wondered if the little girl saw her as the Elizabeth she had first met, or the Elizabeth nearly dead from dream deprivation.

  Suddenly the Norfolk let out a death scream as metal buckled and a portion of the superstructure collapsed. Most of the crates were tied down, but a stack broke free, tumbling to the deck. The ship rumbled and shuddered, tilting as it did. A bulkhead buckled, folding inward, rivets popping off with the velocity of bullets. The compartment was folding in on itself, leaving little room to stand. The vibrations continued, but the structural collapse slowed. When the ship was stable again, Elizabeth leaned out and saw the backs of armed Crazies. Flattening back, she signalled Wes to be quiet.

  “What did you see, Elizabeth?” Ralph said in his best whisper.

  Putting her fingers to her lips, she shushed Ralph, who mimicked the signal.

  “We know you’re in there,” a voice shouted from the corridor.

  Elizabeth and Wes exchanged looks, neither moving.

  “Come out or we’ll force you out,” the voice demanded.

  “Want I should go out and talk to them?” Ralph said.

  Elizabeth shushed Ralph again.

  Then a fireball shot through the hatch, setting a crate on fire. The fire quickly died to a smolder, the room filling with acrid smoke. Elizabeth’s eyes teared and she suppressed a cough. Ralph, coughing loudly, came out of his hiding place rubbing his eyes.

  “I can’t see so good,” he said, his face tear-streaked.

  Wes pulled Ralph flat against the bulkhead just as another fireball struck and more smoke boiled up from the crates. The room was thick with smoke now and the heat was becoming unbearable. Blinded, lungs filling with smoke, they felt helpless.

  “We’re coming out,” Elizabeth shouted.

  Wes went first, hands in the air. Ralph followed, and then Elizabeth, coughing to clear her lungs. Anita, invisible to all but Elizabeth, went with her, coughing as well; the little girl was experiencing everything that Dawson did. They were surrounded by guards with spears and clubs. When Elizabeth’s eyes cleared, she saw Rust, the man who had tried to burn her on the Nimitz. Rust smiled cruelly.

  “We’ve got some unfinished business, Dawson,” Rust said.

  “You shouldn’t oughta hurt people,” Ralph told him.

  Rust smiled at Ralph, then held his hands out, face concentrating. The air around Ralph began to glow.

  “Leave him alone,” Elizabeth pleaded.

  “He’s harmless,” Wes said.

  Rust’s smile broadened, and Elizabeth realized that the more they begged him to spare Ralph, the more he would enjoy torturing him.

  “It sure is hot in here,” Ralph said. “Are you making it hot?”

  “Please stop,” Wes said.

  “Leave him alone, Rust!” a woman ordered.

  The Crazy named Gertie pushed through the guards.

  “I don’t take orders from you,” Rust said.

  With a look from Gertie, Rust was knocked to the deck. He came up with hands extended, as if ready to burn her, but she held her ground, staring him down.

  “They’ve got Prophet!” someone yelled from the hangar.

  Rust hurried past Gertie to the hangar.

  “Take them,” Gertie ordered the
guards.

  Elizabeth and the others were pushed toward the hangar. The sounds of battle were gone, replaced by the sounds of suffering. The hangar was filled with men and women, many wounded, many dead. There was debris everywhere. The deck was tilted at a sharp angle, the bulkheads were crumpled, the hatch above had folded in. Most horrifying of all were the bodies in the decks and bulkheads which had come alive. In the midst of this hell was Jett, his gun to Prophet’s head, advancing through the wreckage. Then Elizabeth saw Compton step forward, bringing her gun to bear on Jett.

  “You’re bluffing,” Compton said.

  “This ship is doomed. Our only hope is a door out of here,” Jett said.

  “Doctor Kellum can repair the generator,” Prophet broadcast.

  Elizabeth could feel a hidden level to Prophet’s message. He was calming their fears and bolstering their loyalty at the same time.

  “He’s insane,” Jett said. “You don’t have to die with him. Come with us.”

  “With the cable cut you only have one round left, Jett,” Compton said.

  “He used that shot,” Prophet said, understanding now and reaching for the arm around his neck.

  Roberto lifted his machete to Prophet’s face, and he stopped struggling. Compton advanced, other Crazies circling, closing in. Then Jett dropped his gun and held out his hand.

  “I killed Cobb!” he shouted. “I have his power!”

  The spaces between Jett’s fingers sparkled with electric light. Prophet’s flock stopped their advance, afraid of Jett’s power. Then Compton shouted for Gertie.

  When Gertie left them, Rust smiled at Elizabeth malevolently. Without Gertie to protect them, Rust would burn them at the slightest provocation. Elizabeth’s hand twitched, and she looked down to see Anita shivering uncontrollably. Anita was staring at a half man protruding from the deck, pleading for help.

  “Shamita, are you ready with Anita?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes. Len says her heart rate and BP are spiking. We’ve called for an ambulance. Anita’s mother’s with her. Elizabeth, the same thing is happening to you.”

  Elizabeth didn’t feel the weakness of her own body because her immediate sensations were from Dawson’s.

  “Separate them,” Compton ordered Gertie, pointing at Jett and Prophet.

  With a hard stare, Gertie knocked Prophet and Jett into a crumpled bulkhead. Jett’s grip was broken by the blow, and Prophet wrestled himself free. Then the Norfolk collapsed again.

  The deck of the hangar rose with a sharp peak running its length. Bodies tumbled from both sides of the crest, Jett and Prophet disappearing on the far side. Elizabeth tumbled backwards. The guards and Rust forgot their captives, fighting to survive. Above them, Elizabeth could see the remains of the hatch, and just beyond it the opaque field. Then there was a sound above, and men and women scrambled for cover as the crane from the stern crashed into the hangar, burying the half man whom Anita had been staring at.

  The ship vibrated constantly now, the sounds of crumpling steel everywhere. The war was over; everyone was scrambling to save their lives. Dr. Kellum appeared across the hangar with Monica and Peters.

  “This way!” Dr. Kellum shouted. “There’s a way out here! This way!”

  Dropping their weapons, former enemies struggled together through the wreckage toward Kellum and past him down the collapsing corridor. Then Jett appeared without Prophet, climbing over the crest in the dock.

  “Ralph’s other door,” Jett shouted, “what about the other door?”

  “Ralph,” Elizabeth shouted. “Is the other door close?”

  “Sure,” Ralph said, getting to his feet. “It’s this-a-way.” He pointed back down the corridor.

  Before Ralph could move, one of the biplanes crashed into the hangar. Jett disappeared behind the wreckage. When the plane settled, Elizabeth could see Jett pinned under a piece of the wing. Roberto rushed to him, clearing the smaller pieces of debris. He tried to lift the weight from Jett, but couldn’t free him. Panicky men and women rushed past, ignoring Roberto’s pleas for help. Then Ralph pushed past Elizabeth, climbing through the wreckage toward Jett.

  “Ralph, there’s no time,” Wes shouted.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ralph said.

  Wes started after him, but was driven back when Norfolk’s second biplane was jammed into the hangar. Now they were cut off from Ralph. Four Crazies were trapped under the new wreckage, one of them Rust. Wes and Elizabeth worked to free the trapped men. One was dead, his skull crushed, but the others were alive.

  “Help me first!” Rust ordered.

  The catapult had come with the second biplane, its latticework now a twisted mass of steel and many of its joints broken. The bulk of the framework was over Rust, so they started with the nearest man. The first Crazy came out easily, thanking them.

  “Help me or you’ll burn,” Rust ordered.

  The rescued sailor looked at Rust nervously, but helped Elizabeth and Wes to free the second man. With Wes and Elizabeth lifting, they barely managed to take enough pressure off the trapped man to drag him clear. With a broken leg, he couldn’t help lift the wreckage. Rust was impaled by a piece of the steel latticework, his side soaked in blood. They tried a lift; Rust screamed when they moved the steel an inch, and then passed out. Seeing the piece of steel protruding from his side, Elizabeth knew that they wouldn’t be able to drag him out like the others. Rust would need to be cut free, and that would take time they didn’t have.

  Elizabeth looked back in the hangar for Ralph. He was with Roberto, his hands under the wreckage pinning Jett’s legs, his muscles straining. The wing was still connected to the fuselage, and as Ralph lifted, Roberto pulling Jett from underneath, the entire airplane moved. Jett flexed one leg, then the other, and then stood.

  “Kill the heretics. Only when this place is cleansed of their impure thoughts will God restore our paradise.”

  Prophet was still alive.

  The Crazy helping them with Rust turned like a zombie, unable to resist the commands of his master. He reached for Elizabeth. The Crazy with the broken leg wrapped his arms around Wes’s legs. Elizabeth slapped his hand away. The Crazy reached for her again. Remembering that she had the power of Dawson’s body, she made a fist and swung with all of Dawson’s might. She hit the Crazy just below the cheekbone. He reeled from the blow. Picking up a loose piece of steel, she hit him in the side. The sailor tried to rise. Prophet was still manipulating him.

  “Stay down,” Elizabeth said.

  Ribs broken, breathing ragged, the Crazy struggled to get up. Elizabeth struck again, catching him squarely on the back of his head. This time he stayed down. Elizabeth turned to help Wes, but he had already freed himself by striking the Crazy’s broken leg. Now Elizabeth looked back for Ralph.

  Ralph was with Roberto and Jett, and was surrounded by the remaining Crazies, who were all answering the commands of Prophet. Compton was there, too, gun in hand.

  “Kill them,” Prophet broadcast.

  Prophet was climbing through the wreckage, one arm hanging limp. The man who had declared himself ruler of the kingdom of Pot of Gold was a pathetic figure, but he was still in control of his flock. With another command from Prophet, Compton’s arm stretched out, gun pointed at Jett’s head.

  LAST CHANCE

  “Kill Nathan Jett!” Prophet projected.

  With Prophet broadcasting thought commands to kill him, and Compton’s gun pointed at his head, Jett knew that he was going to die. He had never feared anything, not even death, but now he found he did care. He had changed since meeting Ralph. It saddened him to know that Ralph would die—he hadn’t felt sad since his brother’s death.

  A flash of silver behind Compton caught Jett’s eye. Peters was taking aim. Gertie caught the movement, and the psychokinetic struck, flinging Peters against the wreckage next to Jett. Peters collapsed in a limp pile. The distraction over, Compton again pointed her gun at Jett. Her hand was shaking and her jaw was set. She was trying to
resist Prophet.

  “Kill him!” Prophet ordered.

  There was no one to save them now except the Norfolk, which was in its death throes. With a mighty twist, the bulkheads bowed out and the deck rippled, knocking the survivors down like bowling pins. When the ship settled again, what had been a bulkhead was the deck, and a crevice ran the width of the ship. Jett shouted above the din.

  “Ralph, hold Gertie so she won’t hurt anyone.”

  Ralph got to his feet, holding out his arms to steady himself.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Gertie said. “Stay where you are.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, too,” Ralph replied.

  She stared at Ralph, pushing with her mind. To her surprise, debris behind him clattered across the deck. Trying again, she knocked one of the Crazies from her feet. Ralph came on. Quickly, she picked up a three-foot piece of pipe, tossed it in the air, and pushed it psychokinetically. Ralph was almost on her, deflecting the pipe with his arm.

  “Ow!” Ralph exclaimed.

  Then Ralph wrapped Gertie in a bear hug.

  “Tell me if I squeeze you too tight,” Ralph said. “I squoze a bird too hard one time and it kinda died.”

  Gertie struggled in his arms, but had no hope of breaking free.

  Compton had gone down hard when the ship twisted; now a stream of blood was running down her face. Jett had time to limp to her before she recovered her senses. He wielded a piece of steel for the knockout blow. Compton was quick, and rolled away from the blow. Jett adjusted his aim, bringing the piece of steel down low on her back, puncturing one of the nitrogen cylinders. Her pack inflated and burst, the spray of liquid nitrogen creating a cloud of ice particles. Before the ice cloud dissipated, she was up in a low crouch.

  Jett feigned a swing, watching her countermove. She was fast. He moved in, and she brought a leg to his head so fast he barely had time to block it. He counter-punched, his fist finding a rock-hard stomach. The deck was moving beneath them now, rising as if to crush them against the electric field coming from above. Compton attacked furiously with blinding kicks and punches. He took them, surprised by her power. If they had fought on level ground, she would have been a better match, but she stumbled, feet tangling in debris, and Jett caught her jaw with a right fist. Stunned, she dropped her guard, and he pummeled her head.