Adrift

by Trimboli, TJ

  PART THREE

  THE VIRUS OF LIFE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  TRENT

  At his usual spot, in his usual bar, munching on imaginary pretzels, Trent wept. He wept for the millions of people who died in the apocalypse, the hundreds that had been lost on the ship by their own hands, but most importantly, he wept for his memories. Or, more accurately, the lack of memories. Bobbi had done her best to put him at ease but he couldn’t shake the feeling of remorse that burned inside him. He thought back on as many nights as he could but anytime he got anywhere, a dark black hole crept up on the image, erasing it from his mind. He could remember stumbling into the church lambasting the priest about his God and how he could sit idly by while everyone suffered. He could feel how irate he was, how badly he wanted to harm the man for standing by such a titan of the heavens before it all faded to black.

  He could remember the girl with the Texas birthmark, not her name, but the shape of her body. The large imposing breasts hovering over a compact waist that stretched out as they reached her thighs. She was built like an hourglass. He could remember the smell of her, the peaches of her fragrance mixing with the tide of the ocean. It stung at his nostrils. Pictures of him following her that night sped through his conscious like someone flipping through a picture book. All he could catch were glimpses and then the blackness enveloped him. A dangerous burn in the pit of his stomach told him he was a killer, maybe not always but most certainly now.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  The voice pulled Trent from his trance. He became aware of his surroundings unsure of when he crept into the bar. He’d been sitting spinning a shot glass on the bar top.

  Noah tended the bar.

  Rage fuming inside, Trent launched the shot glass at the mirror behind Noah.

  The shot missed Noah by mere millimeters but one wouldn’t have been able to tell by the calm, composed, statue of the man he was. The mirror shattered behind him.

  “This is not who I was supposed to be dammit! I was a cop, a damned good one too. I was respected and I had my shit together…Look at me now. My younger self would kick my ass up and down this vessel if he saw what I’ve become. I’m supposed to be strong, I’m supposed to be tough, for my wife, for the people around me…I can’t even walk into a room without feeling the air being sucked out of me. I just sit and watch as the walls close in on me, crushing me against the weight of the world.”

  “Cheer up, Trent. One’s mind is a reflection of the outlook he has on the world,” Noah spoke as he cleaned the shot glasses with a bloody rag.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Trent slammed his fist on the bar.

  “It means suck it the fuck up. If the walls are closing in on you, kick right through the mother fucker. Look at you, bulging biceps, thick back, wide chest. No one could stop you from doing whatever you wanted. In the old world, you enforced the law. In this one, you are the law. The law is what you decide it is. You want food? Take it. Whose gonna stop you? You want booze? Take it. Everyone else can do just fine with water. You want a woman? Grab her by the pussy and take her. Women live to please you. This is your world Trent. Start acting like it.”

  “That’s not who I am.”

  “The hell it ain’t. You’re a killer Trent. You may have drank enough to repress the memories but I know you can feel it. The despair, the heartache, the endless pit of suffering in your chest.

  You’re a killer and a killer does anything he so pleases.”

  Trent slammed his fist down so suddenly it splintered the wood cutting the bar in half like his arm was a chainsaw.

  Noah flinched back.

  Trent hopped over the bar in a split second, pinning Noah up against the wall. “I AM NOT A

  KILLER.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, slugger. How many is it now Trent? The priest. You made quick work of him didn’t you? One swift blow to the temple and then the crucifixion. That one must have taken a lot of work. That chick you were fucking. How did that one feel? She was brittle as plywood,” Noah spewed on and on. “Smacking her head against the railing of the ship was like watching a watermelon split open and her skin was so supple, one flick of your fingernail against her neck was enough to open it ear to ear.”

  Trent screamed lifting Noah off his feet. He slammed Noah again and again, against the backdrop of the bar.

  “Nothing you do can harm me Trent. I’m the one person you can’t kill. I will eat you alive.” Noah laughed maniacally.

  Trent slammed him again into the wall. It crumbled under the constant stress on the foundation. They fell through into the next room. Trent collapsed onto the floor. Noah had vanished from sight. The room was pitch dark. All he could hear was the soft patter of his breath on the linoleum floor. He sat up dusting himself off. “Noah?” he called out.

  No answer.

  “You can’t hide from me forever,” he barked.

  As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew Noah had been right. He was a killer. He couldn’t see the images but the heartache was real. He’d been around enough death to know its taste. He murdered those people in a drunken stupor. There was no doubt about it. He had to find a way to make peace with that. He didn’t know if he ever could but he knew one thing, he would swear off the booze. It muddled his mind, causing all this to happen in the first place. He thanked God that there wasn’t any more onboard the ship anyway. It was easy to come up with a solution now when the devil was no longer peering over his shoulder but he was wholly unconvinced he’d be as strong as he felt now if there was even the slightest chance of booze being onboard.

  He got up looking back on the damage he caused. He smashed the wall clean out from its substructure. That was another thing Noah was right about. He was strong as an ox, maybe even two and there was no one who could stop him. It was true on the force and remained true now and Bobbi needed him. For the first time in a long time, his mind felt at ease. He thought clearly and succinctly. He would rejoin Bobbi and beg forgiveness then do whatever it took to make amends for his sins. He would make sure Bobbi regained this ship or die trying. She was the strong one, it was always her, and he needed to be by her side, so she always knew that.

  He stepped forward. The linoleum cracked underneath him. It felt hollow, dull even. He peered down. A red and orange carpet inlaid with Turkish designs stared him in the face. He wanted to return to Bobbi more than anything but his mind wouldn’t relay the message to his feet. Instead, he bent down exposing the cellar door beneath it.

  Forget this, find Bobbi. She’s all that matters.

  He gripped the handle pulling up. The cellar door creaked open. Dust besprinkled forth latching itself in Trent’s eyes and mouth. He coughed uncontrollably. The contents of the room remained a mystery. Stairs led down into darkness. He pulled a matchbook from his jeans, striking one of the matches.

  Bobbi.

  It would be the last time he ever thought of his wife again. He dropped the match down the hatch irradiating kegs upon kegs and bottles upon bottles of booze. He wanted to run but knew he wouldn’t. He wanted to be a better man but knew it was too late for such aspirations. There were a thousand things at that moment he wanted but they all paled in comparison to that which he wanted most in the world.

  A drink.

  I will eat you alive.

  The booze seemed to echo in his subconscious but he didn’t care anymore. He stepped down into the cellar slamming the door not only on the cellar, but on his old life as well.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  KENDRA

  She stood gazing upon the corpse in front of her. Since they’d strolled Bobbi and Jack the Ripper out of her doors, she refused to see anybody, even Richard. She watched sullenly as the stages of death ravaged Valentina’s body. By the time they dragged her in, Rigor mortis had already set in leaving her body cold to the touch and white as powdered sugar. As time went on Livor mortis set in casting the lower portion of her body purplish red, it was like watching a
crimson sun crest over the horizon at dawn. In a way, it seemed oddly beautiful.

  She’d never watched a body decompose before and such a strange thought to even occur to her but she sat and she watched as the remorse grew and grew like the discoloration of the woman’s skin. She didn’t want to kill Valentina but it was a necessary step towards achieving her ultimate goal. If there’d been any way possible, she would have let Valentina live or allow her to continue her leadership role underneath her own but she knew the woman to be too proud to ever agree to such terms. Therefore, she had to be dealt with…a cold fact of life. People die. Sometimes, it’s unwarranted, like her kids and sometimes, it needed to be done for a greater good to be brought to the light. Valentina died in service of that greater good. She continued to force that thought into her head hoping it would set her pain at ease.

  It didn’t.

  She softly caressed Val’s shorn hair. It felt crunchy like uncooked spaghetti. Algor mortis had set in leaving her cold to the touch. She no longer looked like the woman she confided in this morning. No, she looked more like a corpse they’d found on Mt. Everest, frozen in time, waiting for passerby’s to find her and give her a proper burial.

  Kendra took a seat next to the body staring at the notebook in front of her. All day, through every bit of manipulation possible, she pulled and prodded to get this book in front of her, to devour its contents, but now as it sat in front of her, staring her in the eyes, she froze.

  “I want you to understand why I did this,” Kendra spoke. Her nerves flared, hands shaking uncontrollably. She paced around the room to steady herself. “You had me between a rock and a hard place. Just like you, I had a goal in mind and you were standing in the way of it. I know it wasn’t right, coming at you like that. Earning your trust and stabbing you in the back but put yourself in my position. What would you have done? I made a promise to my sister, one I cannot break. I owe it to her or else she has died in vain.” Tears dripped from her eyes falling onto the icy cold skin of the deceased.

  The salty liquid slid across her features like a hockey puck on ice.

  “I hope you can forgive me. I reunited you with your children. I saved you from this hardship. This road has much darkness left to expose before the dawn fully sets. I spared you that.”

  Kendra interlocked her fingers with Valentina’s right hand. They were stiff, unmoving, blocks of ice. She knew what would come next. She would soon have to dispose of the body. She stood gazing over her naked form once more taking in the dips and curves of her hips, the near perfect arch of her breasts, and the beautiful opaqueness of her brown eyes.

  “Please forgive me.” Kendra leaned in planting a soft kiss goodbye upon Val’s lips.

  She returned to her seat in front of the notebook. Summoning all of her courage and strength, she flipped the cover over exposing the first page, and she wept. She wept so hard, her tears corroded the page leaving the words ineligible.

  She skimmed through the countless letters Val had written to her dead children, hating herself more and more, but she rationalized from an intellectual standpoint that she’d done the right thing. She reunited the family.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

  A knock at the door sucked her out of her gaze.

  “Come in.”

  Richard walked in, map in hand. His features had hardened since she last saw him. He very rarely spoke of his feelings but she could read right through his eyes.

  The death of his pet project had stung him deep like a thousand hornets burrowing into his veins stinging at his heart. His eyes were weary, raw from his tears. His beard left him looking even longer in the face than he had hours prior.

  She knew exactly how he felt. Valentina had left her very much the same way emotionally.

  She made no mention of it to him, better to let sleeping dogs lie.

  “It’s time.” His voice croaked, cracking as the words came out.

  “Everyone has gathered?”

  “They all await your arrival on the entertainment floor.”

  She strolled to the window peering out upon the ocean that had been their home for damn near a month. Clouds blossomed on the horizon carrying harsh winds, and turbulent seas. “It’s finally time to put an end to this. This is everything we’ve worked so hard to accomplish. Let’s show them all just how wonderful this new world will be.”

  “There’s something else.”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  “Bobbi—”

  “No. They’re dead and that’s the end of it!” She roared.

  “Our men never returned. On top of that, someone reported seeing an escape boat rowing in an hour or so ago which leads me to believe Morris somehow intervened and saved Bobbi and Trent.”

  “How in the world did he survive?”

  “It gets worse.”

  “It always does. What else?”

  “He came back with a large supply of food and managed to incite many of the bottom dwellers to join him below. Enough people have gone that it could cause serious repercussions to our plans,” he stated all this matter-of-factly.

  The ease with which he leveled her with this information unnerved her to no end. He seemed devoid of all emotion.

  She spun punching the window beside her, cracking it into pieces. “This is unacceptable. We need them all for this to work Richard!”

  “Maybe not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we continue on as planned, give them the good news.” He sneered. “Everything we have in store for them and their safety…and then tell them that those down below wish to take it away from them. They wish to do us harm by taking us back where we do not wish to go.” Her eyes lit up like the fourth of July.

  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

  “I want her head on my desk by dawn.”

  “Already seeing to it.”

  “Let’s finish this then…and send someone up to dispose of this.”

  She glanced back one last time at the only person she’d ever cared for besides her sister. Kendra bid adieu to the darkest stage of her life and set out to greet a new dawn, a new day, and instill hope by any means necessary.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  BOBBI’

  “Everyone has gathered on the entertainment floor,” a young man called out to them. They’d sent him to do some sleuthing and see where the chips had landed now that Kendra thought they were dead.

  Though Bobbi knew the thought wouldn’t last long. Sooner or later, and she knew it to be sooner, she would question why her men hadn’t returned. They had barely an hour to set their plan into motion. She stood with Morris and Xao discussing their strategy.

  “Okay, so something big must be going down,” Morris said plainly. “Which means now is the easiest time for you to make it to the Captain’s room.”

  “Alright, Xao you’re with me. Once we get into the Captain’s quarters, I need you to haul ass to the main cabin—”

  “The bridge.”

  “Whatever. Haul ass to the bridge and lock yourself inside. You don’t open for nobody. Once I get the engines running again, you get this sucker moving. Got it?” He nodded.

  “There will be few guards around still, so be watchful. I’ll keep them busy for as long as I can,” Morris said.

  “Any idea how?” Bobbi asked.

  “A few, if you don’t mind giving up some of those keys.”

  She pulled out the Captain’s keys. Xao marked which one was the one she needed. She clipped it off the chain handing the rest to Morris.

  “Good luck,” he said.

  “I’ll see you on land.” Bobbi nodded.

  “Let’s hope land is the only thing we’ll see.”

  She laughed, the first in a long time. It felt good to laugh again. She looked forward to so many other things she could do again, once this was all over. It sparked the fire in her to get this done.

  Outside the fishing room, Morris went right and she left. She gave them one last passing g
lance watching until they were out of sight. They found the steps a few yards away and began their ascent.

  They managed to make it all the way to the ninth floor before coming upon any guards and if it weren’t for her razor sharp reaction time, they would have found them too. They ducked underneath the stairwell watching as two guards perused the corridors on both sides of the ship. She measured the distance between the guards and herself then ascertained that if she could hit one with her hatchet, she would be able to run the thirty five feet to the guard before he knew what happened. The only downside to this plan would be that it left her defenseless against the other guard. She could see the huge butcher knives in their hands. One wrong move and he would carve her like a Thanksgiving Day turkey. It would be a long shot but what was life without a little risk? She waited another five minutes to see if the guards would continue on their way.

  They never moved a muscle.

  Bobbi retrieved her hatchet. “If this goes south, you run, and you don’t look back,” she urged handing Xao the keys. Before he could stop her, she took off. She launched herself up the last four flights of stairs. Like a Comanche warrior, she locked on to her kill. Stepping forward with her left leg, she sent her hatchet flying towards its target. It found its mark in the spine of the bald fuck to her left.

  She pivoted with her right foot tearing off in a sprint towards the target on her right.

  He’d just noticed his partner collapsing, spinning around to face her.

  She bridged the gap in four seconds flat colliding into the guard’s collar bone with the brunt of her shoulder. It snapped, lifting the man right out of his shoes. The knife fell from his hands. They collided into a thin strip of wall behind the guard. It was enough to hold the man but Bobbi tore free from him falling forward into a planter. She rolled over crawling for the knife. She felt the tip of the blade on her fingertips when the guard’s boot crushed her hand. Using her other hand, she grabbed the man’s leg, lifting him up.