“Nah,” Jimmy said quietly. “Sarah seems like a nice enough name.”
They made their way toward the back of the ship with an odd mixture of hurry and leisure. Hurry because they all felt a clear sense that, whatever had happened, it wasn’t over. Leisure because, well, if it wasn’t over, then they didn’t want to be right on top of the next part of this disaster, did they? Yet they had no idea where else they were supposed to go. It was a sense of confused desperation Quinne saw in almost everyone they passed. Everyone knew the disaster wasn’t over, but they didn’t know when it would start up again or even what it was. Quinne kept expecting she would hear another series of horns in warning or an announcement over the ship-wide intercom telling everyone what kind of emergency this was, what they should do, where they should go. Yet there was nothing.
Apparently Quinne wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines. “Why isn’t the captain doing or saying anything?” Amani asked.
“Maybe something happened to him,” Wanda said.
“Even if something did, there’s still protocol,” Jimmy said. “He’s got to have a second and third and fourth in command. If he weren’t able to do the job, there should be others to step up.”
“Maybe we’re in the midst of one of those really colossal screw ups you see on the news,” Quinne said. “Like that cruise ship that just up and tipped over, and the captain abandoned ship like a little bitch.”
“There’s hundreds, maybe thousands of people on this ship,” Wanda said. “Hundreds of people going through shit, and right along with them hundreds of reasons the captain isn’t taking charge the way he should. None of us will probably find out until we’re off the ship and watching all the coverage on the news.”
“Sure, if we get off the ship,” Jimmy said.
“I think I heard something earlier from one of the crew about calling for a rescue,” Amani said. “There’s got to be someone or something on the way.”
“Either that or the ship will get out of the range of those things,” Wanda said. “They wouldn’t follow us all the way back to civilization, would they?”
“Too many questions, and we’re not going to get any answers,” Quinne said.
Jimmy stopped to check on a group of teenagers that had found a spot to huddle just inside one of the doors. One of them was bleeding from the arm, and it took some cajoling to let him look at the wound. While Wanda tried to chat the teens up to get them to relax, Amani cocked her head at Quinne. “Do you think that whatever’s going on here has anything to do with that thing that happened down in Mexico a couple months ago?”
At first Quinne didn’t understand what she was asking, but then there weren’t many major news events that happened in Mexico that could be compared to mysterious happenings in the Arctic. “You mean that shit that happened off the Baja Peninsula?”
“I guess. All I remember is that it happened down in Mexico and the video was all over Facebook for a while.”
“Yeah, I remember. People stopped talking about it when that gorilla got shot,” Quinne said. “I don’t know, though. I always kind of figured that had to be fake. I mean, the girl who supposedly beat that giant-ass shark got her own reality show or something, right?”
“I also heard she lost her leg. Kind of hard to fake that. And given that we’ve so far been attacked by both a plesiosaurus and a liopleurodon, is a giant hammerhead shark really that far-fetched?”
“I guess not. Man, when we get out of this, we can totally sign book deals or something. If we get out of this.”
They both stopped talking for several seconds as Quinne’s words registered with them both. Quinne thought of Sarah, and the woman over the railing (Becky, Quinne decided, just so the woman wouldn’t be nameless forevermore), and then wondered about them. If she and Amani died here, would anyone see? Would someone determine that they needed a name as they remembered what had happened to them? Or would anyone remember the way they died at all? Would they just be random names on the manifest? Would all of Quinne’s subscribers find out what had happened? Or would they just sit and wonder, “Hey, why the hell doesn’t Quinne Quiver post videos of herself with a dildo and butt plug anymore?”
Was that really all her life would amount to, to some people? Not that Quinne regretted any of her decisions in life. She’d lived her own damn way, and fuck anyone that had a problem with it. But she felt a strange sadness at the idea that so few people would even know that Quinne Quiver, tattooed kinkster extraordinaire, was the same as Laurie Schnellmann, just another casualty during the doomed final odyssey of the Lucky Lady Duck.
“My legal name is Laurie Schnellmann,” Quinne told Amani in a hushed voice.
“Huh?”
“Just in case, you know? If anything happens. Really, I consider myself Quinne, not Laurie, but if I die, I just wanted someone to know…”
She couldn’t get herself to finish. She didn’t have to. Amani responded by taking her hand and squeezing it gently, then bringing it to her lips and kissing it. Nothing sexual about it, just a simple gesture of intimacy. Quinne took Amani’s hand and did the same.
Wanda and Jimmy joined them again soon after. The teen really should have had stitches, Jimmy said, but he didn’t have anything to sew with and the cut wouldn’t be life threatening as long as the teens didn’t do anything stupid.
The closer they got to the back of the boat, the more Quinne had a sense that something wasn’t right. Although she’d rather not get anywhere near the railing anymore, especially when some giant creature could smack into the ship again at any moment, she still forced herself to look over the side. “Shit,” she said. “That’s probably not good.”
“What?” Amani asked.
“I don’t think the ship is moving anymore. At least not under its own power.”
All of them looked over the side just long enough to be certain for themselves that she was right, then continued along. The closer they got to the back, the more activity there seemed to be. Nearer the front, any passengers who hadn’t found someplace inside to hide had taken on a lethargic, doomed aspect, as though there was absolutely nothing they could do until they were given orders by the captain or some Coast Guard boat showed up to rescue them. Back here, however, there was a very different feel. People rushed about with obvious destinations, and while most of them couldn’t exactly be called calm, they at least weren’t running to and fro in a panic. The reason for this became apparent as they reached the large aft deck and saw someone standing on some kind of equipment to give everyone a better view of him. Masterson. And nearby, his two buddies were standing as though they were his enforcers.
“Pay up,” Quinne said to Jimmy.
“Huh?”
“Mickey’s hair. It’s mad scientist city. You owe me fifteen bucks.”
“Uh, all my money is back in our rooms.”
“Yeah, well, don’t worry about it for now. I bet you’re good for it.”
“Was that supposed to be a pun?”
“Was what supposed to be a pun?”
“You said you bet.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m way too exhausted to do puns on purpose.”
Mickey’s hair was indeed messed up, and there was soot and dirt all over his face, same as Gordon. Quinne couldn’t help but think, though, that there was something theatrical about the way the mess was smeared on them. They looked less like they’d gone through horrible shit and more like they had spent an hour in a Hollywood makeup chair. Masterson looked even better. He only had a single smudge at his temple and a cut on his cheek, perfectly positioned so that it would give him a nice manly scar when it healed.
“Okay, listen up!” Masterson boomed at the gathered people. That was really the only correct word for it, boomed. “I’ve got some bad news! The captain and most of his main people are dead!”
A shudder of horror through the crowd. Quinne glanced at her companions to see looks of pure terror that were probably mirrored on her own face. That explaine
d the lack of further directions.
“We need to not panic, though! Rescue is coming!” Masterson bassed. Again, that was the only word for it, “bassed,” a deep and heavy tone that nearly shook the floor beneath them.
“How is he even doing that?” Amani whispered to Quinne.
“Seriously, I honestly think this guy had to be a pro-wrestler in another life,” Quinne said. “He talks to groups the way the heroic baby-face would talk to an arena full of people.”
“The captain managed to call for help before the monster got him!” Masterson exploded. “There will be rescue helicopters soon! Before we lost contact, they assured me that there would be three large copters on the way, more than enough to rescue everyone here!”
Wait, what? Quinne exchanged looks with her companions, checking to see if they found his words as worrisome as she did. She saw very clear discomfort from all three of them. For the first time, Quinne took a clear look at the people that formed the crowd. Although Quinne and the others had come close enough to hear Masterson speak, they were still far enough removed that they couldn’t be considered part of the group. Not that they could ever hope to be considered part of this group anyway. They were a heavily tattooed queer millennial, a young woman unapologetic in the garb of her religion, and a young black couple. The crowd, on the other hand, was overwhelmingly light skinned, older, and judging from their clothes, well-to-do. They certainly hadn’t gotten onto this ship using coupons and rebates like Quinne had. And to these people, they really might as well have been the only people on the entire ship. The people in the cheaper rooms were barely people at all, and certainly the staff and crew were nothing more to them than props.
It didn’t even occur to a single person in this group, Quinne realized as she scanned their faces, that there was anyone worth rescuing other than themselves. Three helicopters would be fine to them.
“Anyone else doing this math?” Quinne quietly asked.
“Sure am,” Wanda said.
“Wait a second,” a well-dressed white woman in her sixties said from the crowd. For a moment Quinne thought she would be the one to bring up the flaw in the escape plan, but her mind was obviously caught on one earlier detail. “Did you honestly just say that the captain was eaten by a monster?”
“I did! I know it sounds crazy, but I’m a scientist! I know what I’m talking about!” Masterson exploded.
“Uh, what kind of scientist, exactly?” someone else in the crowd asked.
“Does it matter? I fucking love science, and I’m a scientist!”
Amani said something in a language Quinne didn’t know. She assumed Amani was swearing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” Quinne asked.
“All this time everyone’s probably been assuming that this guy knew what he was talking about. But it sounds to me like he thinks he gets to call himself a scientist just because he follows a Facebook group.”
“Look, I know five surprising facts about the creature that’s been attacking the ship!” Masterson ejaculated. “I can keep us all safe until the rescue choppers get here!”
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Quinne muttered.
“What would you call that thing he’s doing with his voice right now, anyway?” Wanda asked.
“Ejaculating. He definitely ejaculated that sentence.”
“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” Jimmy said.
Quinne shrugged. “Trust me. I definitely know all the meanings of that word. It’s the only way I can describe it. He’s talking in the kind of speech tags that you would find in the pulp novel of a really garbage writer.”
“If everyone here just remains patient,” Masterson rumbled, “and does everything I say, then I promise you that you will be safe soon!”
Quinne couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She ran up to the edge of the crowd and yelled at Masterson. “Three helicopters isn’t going to be enough! There’s got to be almost a thousand people on this ship!”
Several people turned to stare at her. All it took was one look at the hints of tattoos poking out near her neck and hands for them to decide she wasn’t someone they needed to pay attention to. Masterson didn’t even give her that much. He stepped down from his perch as though no one had even spoken, then leaned over to whisper in Gordon’s ear for a few seconds before announcing that he had important things to do before the choppers got here.
As the crowd broke into several nervously milling groups, Gordon made his way through the crowd to Quinne. “Young lady, did you need some help?” Gordon asked.
“No, I don’t need some help. I need to know how the hell three helicopters are going to be enough to save every single person on this cruise ship.”
“You don’t need to worry,” Gordon said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shimmied out of his grip. Gordon looked at her as though that were the rudest thing he’d ever witnessed.
“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot worry about when we’re in the middle of the Arctic Ocean being attacked by sea monsters. Is there a real plan, or not?”
“The helicopters will have to go back and forth to safety, okay? I’m former U.S. Coast Guard. I know how this works.”
Quinne had a suspicion that this guy knew about as much about the Coast Guard as Masterson knew about science, especially considering they weren’t anywhere near United States waters.
“So, what, these people get rescued,” she gestured at the well-to-do passengers getting increasingly agitated around her as she spoke, “while the rest of us just sit around waiting? The ship is damaged, isn’t it? It could be sinking, for all we know. By the time the choppers get back for a second load, we could all be gone.”
“Everyone will be fine,” Gordon said. “The ship isn’t sinking. There’s just a few mechanical problems after the last attack by the creature.”
“A few mechanical problems?” Quinne asked. She gestured at the plume of smoke still coming out from the very back of the ship. It wasn’t as thick as it had been earlier, but it certainly didn’t look like it was stopping yet. “You’re seriously going to try telling me that this isn’t anything to worry about?”
“Miss, please,” Gordon said. “You’re upsetting the passengers.”
“Um, hello? I’m a passenger, and I already have plenty of reason to be upset, thank you very much.”
But if Gordon even heard her, he made no indication. Instead he gestured for someone behind her to come forward. At first she thought he meant Amani or one of the newlyweds, but as she turned around she was again faced with Lundgren.
“You bastard,” Quinne hissed at him under her breath.
“Gordon, what do you want?” Lundgren asked.
“Can you give these four a hand heading back to where they can wait for the rescue?”
The message was clear. Gordon didn’t want them interfering with the better-off passengers when it came time for the choppers. Maybe, if there was room in one of them after all these others had gotten aboard, someone from their group might be able to join them. Quinne wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it, though.
“Don’t touch me,” Quinne said as Lundgren tried to take her elbow. “I can figure out what’s going on for myself. And I sure as hell don’t want to be around you any longer than I have to.”
“If you’re still pissed about what happened on the other side of the boat, lady, then get over. Nature voted and that woman died.”
“Oh, fuck off so much,” Quinne said. She turned to walk away, stopping only when it sounded for a second like Lundgren might be threatening one of the others, but he had already gone off and was gruffly directing the various groups of passengers where they should wait.
“So, what? Is that it?” Amani asked.
“Honey, I’m sorry to say this,” Quinne said. “But I think it is. I honestly think we’re going to die today.
Chapter Ten
They never were able to get a straight answer as to what or
where the smoke was coming from, although the general speculation seemed to be that it had something to do with why the Lucky Lady Duck had come to a full stop. Whatever it was, the smoking stopped shortly before the brief night was over, and when the sun “came up,” as in it no longer touched the horizon, Quinne’s mind tried to tell her that it had to mean that this whole nightmare was over. Wasn’t there old song about a morning after some disaster on a cruise ship? Whether there was or wasn’t, the idea of a fresh start with a brand new day was purely an illusion. It was still the wee hours of the morning, and every single person aboard the ship was exhausted.
All the crazy panic seemed to have gone out of everyone, replaced with a vigilant sort of weariness. Most of the people still didn’t seem to understand anything of what had happened, just that disaster had struck, and whatever leadership there was supposed to be on the ship was nowhere to be found. A few people came up to Quinne’s group asking if they knew anything about what had happened and if there was going to be a rescue, at which point Quinne, Amani, and the newlyweds had been forced to make a decision. They could tell the truth of everything they knew, and probably do their part in starting a new wave of panic, or they could feign ignorance. Most of the time they chose to pretend not to know more than little tidbits: that there was indeed something dangerous in the sea, that something bad had happened to the captain, that someone somewhere had stepped up and was organizing a rescue. It was enough to make people cautious yet not lose so much hope that they might start doing stupid things that could put others in jeopardy. Many people had retired back to their rooms to quietly await some kind of word, and everyone now kept their distance from anything that overlooked the water when they could help it.
Quinne, Wanda, and Jimmy, however, had no desire to go back to their rooms. Even on the off chance that someone had put something over the gaping holes in the side of the ship, they all agreed that if they happened to go there and not get attacked again, they wouldn’t be able to deal with the inevitable sight of blood in the hallway that had once been at least two people. With the area around the deck far too cold for them to stay out for much longer, they instead huddled together inside the main rotunda, taking a seat against wall outside a trendy little coffee shop that didn’t look like it would ever open again. Amani could have headed back to her own room, which was a little economy-class thing not anywhere near any of the scenes of carnage, but she opted to stay with them. Grabbing some towels from the coffee shop, Wanda and Jimmy did their best to create a makeshift set of pillows and curled up with each other for a fitful rest. Quinne wished she could do the same, but every time she closed her eyes she thought she felt a jolt, like the wall next to her was caving in again and a serpentine head would pop through to snack on her. Amani seemed to be having similar trouble, so the two of them moved far enough away from Wanda and Jimmy that they could quietly converse without disturbing them.
Arctic Gauntlet Page 6