Haunted Cruise: The Shakedown

by Tanya R. Taylor

  Dellie knew he wanted nothing more than confrontation and she refused to be the granter of his sickly appetency. She reached over and flushed the toilet, amazed that all the excrement went down except for portions that had stuck to the bowl. She knew she would have to clean it in spite of Junior's cruel, deliberate act.

  "Would you excuse me, please?" She asked him, before grabbing the scrubber by its twelve inch handle. He slowly walked off, laughter still trailing behind him. Dellie sprinkled disinfectant into the bowl and cleaned it to perfection.

  Mattie slept the entire time Dellie was there. And Dellie was sorry that a girl so beautiful and ripe with potential could subject herself to an insensitive beast like Clyde Dragos.

  "See you bright and early tomorrow morning," Junior smiled. "Or sometime later for a great hook up."

  Dellie walked out without a word and heard the door slam shut behind her.

  8:05 pm

  This was just the first day in her new post and Dellie wondered how she would make it throughout the remainder of the trip. Junior's efforts to demean and force her into submission were beginning to weigh on her emotionally, more than anything. She was seriously beginning to wonder if trying so hard to hold on to her job — a job that she could still be relieved of when all was said and done, was really worth it. What Gwen said about blowing the whistle was starting to sound more attractive than bearing all and being harassed not just by Junior, but also by his goon, Floyd Weathers. She tapped lightly at the bridge door, which was unlocked, then went inside.

  "Hi There!" Dwight exclaimed. He had just finished peering down at a large chart in front of him. Captain Arahna was inspecting some navigational equipment.

  Dellie left her trolley outside the door, only taking in what she needed.

  "Hi, Dellie," the captain glanced her way.

  "Hi. They've got me assigned to your room," she said.

  "What?" Dwight was confused, though he could clearly see the duster and broom in her hands.

  "Janitorial," she replied.

  "Really?" Bruce stood with hands at his side.

  "Yep."

  "Guess that's part of the cross-training exercise they've been going on about," Bruce proposed.

  "Guess so," Dellie muttered.

  Her hair was ruffled and Dwight thought she looked rather fraught or was just incredibly tired.

  "Um… can I talk with you outside for a minute?" he asked her.

  Dellie was surprised by the request.

  "Captain…" he started.

  "Just go ahead!" Bruce said. He figured his young deputy might have the hots for the Hayworth girl, and understandably so.

  Dellie and Dwight went into the adjacent sitting area. "Are you all right? You don't look well," he posed.

  "Me? I'm fine," Dellie lied straight through her teeth.

  Dwight stared at her for a few moments.

  "What?" she pressed.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I said I'm fine. I'm just tired; that's all. Why do you care anyway?"

  Dwight sighed heavily. He knew that was his cue either to stop in his tracks or to say something he might regret. "I just thought I'd ask; that's all. Don't let me keep you from your work."

  Dellie quietly followed him back into the bridge and proceeded to do her work.

  Gwen had helped Dellie by the pools earlier that afternoon after she had wrapped up her chores in the kitchen. She knew that Weathers, with all his prized authority, couldn't stop her from assisting a friend. However, she was well aware that he could make life at sea very difficult for her just as he and his cohort were doing to Dellie. Nevertheless, that was a chance Gwen was willing to take as Dellie was the only friend she really had — the only one that stood by her after Rick died of Lupus that cold night in January. Estranged from her own family, she always knew her in-laws hated her— that in their eyes, she wasn't good enough for him as she never was able to bear him a child in twelve years of marriage. Furthermore, they speculated right from the start that she was only with him for his money. Yet, refusing to leave her job at Dragos Inc., even though she didn't have to work, wasn't proof enough for them that Rick's "managerial money" at the accounting firm where he worked wasn't what she was after.

  That night while lying in bed, Gwen reminisced on the wonderful life she and her husband had shared. She reflected on how they would lie in each other's arms before falling asleep, recapping pleasant events of the day and how Rick never failed to often tell her how much he adored her. That was when life was sweet, and their future, bright. Gwen had accepted the reality that it's all different now, but one day she would see her Rick again. She wished it could be at that very moment as she missed him so desperately.

  * * * *

  2:44 am

  Dellie tossed and turned in her sleep. Rob was standing there again looking out at the sea. He appeared just as lonely and as lost as he did before and again, he didn't seem to detect her presence. She was standing no more than ten feet away from him, but couldn't manage to get any closer, despite her efforts.

  "They're here!" he warned, in a deep, unfamiliar voice that jerked Dellie out of her sleep.

  Sweat was dripping from her face despite the cold air that seeped through the air-conditioning vents.

  This time, intermingled with Rob's weighty loneliness, was pure, unadulterated fear that she couldn't comprehend. Fresh air was calling her like it did the last time she had dreamt of him and she immediately found her way outside to the pool.

  The waves were rougher that night than at any other time during the course of the journey. The dark sea itself seemed disturbed, unrefined, hungry for something. Dellie could feel that reality even more than she could the chilly breeze biting her face and splashes of salt water hitting her skin. Her eyes caught something into the distance. A couple hundred yards off was something standing above the water — a figure of some kind. She squinted her eyes for a better view of the oddity, then it suddenly appeared closer. But wait, that appeared to be a different one. The other one she had seen first was right behind it. She looked further to the north and spotted another; off to the east were three others. Soon, more were popping up heads first out of the water that glistened from the moonlight. They were all around the ship in frighteningly close proximity, but even now, Dellie could not tell exactly what they were. The closer they got, more popped up from beneath the mysterious depth, then stood on top of the water. They were rapidly multiplying in numbers. It looked like dozens first, then scores. Now, she could see them. They were…

  Captain Bruce Arahna and Dwight were both standing up as the strange beings came into view. Bruce was using binoculars. The navigational equipment was reading off the charts and these series of events discombobulated the officers. Dwight tried to make contact with engineers, but no means of communication appeared to be working. Co-ordinates suddenly made no sense and they knew they were in serious trouble.

  Dellie rushed into the bridge.

  "You see them, don't you?" she asked, as the answer to her question was blatantly obvious. She could also tell that the men whose job was to manage the huge ship were oblivious as to what move they should make.

  "They're moving in closer," Bruce remarked.

  "What are they?" Dwight asked with real fear in his eyes.

  In a few short seconds, the trio watched as the entities climbed over the side rails of the vessel and onto the ship. One by one, together, one on top of the other — they were now with them.

  "My God!" Bruce uttered quietly.

  "What do we do, Captain?!" Dellie insisted. "What do we do?"

  It seemed like years before she got the answer.

  "Hide and… pray!" Bruce replied with an expression consumed with dread. Without another word, he dashed out of the room and headed toward the stairway.

  Dellie immediately followed him. Dwight hesitated for a moment out of his responsibility at the bridge. However, after being slapped with the reality that nothing was working properly, he took off after t
hem.

  "Captain!" Dwight shouted behind him. Where are you going?"

  The older man seemed unaware that they were running behind him. His heart was pounding so heavily it felt like it was about to pop right out of his chest. He knew there was no hope for he had seen them every night since the first day of the voyage. He also saw how it ended — at least how he ended up.

  "Captain!" Dellie called too. The captain was insistent on getting away. He had to get away.

  Suddenly, the power went out and the entire ship was greeted with darkness, except for areas where the moonlight was able to peep through. Bruce slowed down and Dwight moved in front of him. He gripped him by the arm.

  "What's going on, Captain? What are those things?"

  "We have to find flashlights!" Bruce was eager. "A couple were in the bridge, but I can't go back up there."

  "Plenty are down in Supplies. I can get them," Dellie offered.

  "Okay," Dwight said. They both went with her.

  As they descended the stairway toward the main floor where the Evans' coffee shop was, the three stopped abruptly in their tracks. They could see them pacing back and forth — all shapes and sizes, charred-like entities that looked previously human. Their outer shells were black and seemingly burnt to a crisp. Their smell resembled that of roasted flesh.

  Dellie almost vomited where she was. Dwight held her immediately, covering her mouth. He placed a finger across his lips.

  Bruce was directly behind Dwight. As Dwight glanced his way, he was afraid that the captain might be "losing it". Huge difference from the man he had greatly respected, but with that also came an understanding that the good captain was veteran of the seas — ghostbusting was obviously not his forte.

  On Dwight's leading, they eased back up the stairs and quietly made way towards an alternative route down another stairway on the southern end of the previous level.

  Dwight and Dellie were ahead as the captain was at their heels.

  "They're here to kill us!" he exclaimed between breaths as they ran toward the stairway.

  Dellie looked back at him, her heart pounding as well.

  "Just be quiet!" Dwight warned.

  They reached a lower level and after Dwight hinted that the coast was clear, they took off toward the final stairway and quietly hurried down. Rushing toward the Supplies room, Dellie heard someone call her name.

  "Gwen!" She turned around instantly. The women hugged.

  "What's happened?" Gwen asked. "The lights went out and..."

  "You haven't seen them?" Dellie asked.

  "Who?" Gwen was confused.

  "Dellie, get the flashlights!" Dwight urged her, feeling that the reunion could wait.

  Dellie pulled out the only key she had for the room and opened the door. Remembering where she had seen them earlier that morning, she cautiously walked through and tip-toed to the third shelf on her right. She pulled out four of them as well as one of the boxes of batteries that sat on the shelf just beneath them. Each of them took one of the flashlights which were all the same and loaded it with the batteries.

  "Ugh! That smell!" Bruce frowned. He noticed something about Gwen after switching on his flashlight. Her eyes appeared to be twitching and her lips moving erratically, though no sound was escaping between them.

  "She's…" he started.

  Dwight pulled Dellie towards him. "She's not your friend!" he cried. "She's not your friend, Dellie."

  Suddenly, a full transmogrification was underway and Dellie and the two men were soon looking into the charred embodiment of what they sensed was pure evil.

  They all took off down the passageway; the captain hollering behind his officer and Dellie. Bruce shortly made an abrupt, right turn and fumbled at the door of a cabin, quickly entered and locked it. He ventured over to a section of the room near a window and cowered in the corner like a frightened child. Keeping his eyes and the beam of his flashlight affixed to the door, he prayed the prayer he saw himself uttering in the dream. Panic struck him as he recalled the events of his nightmare. He was just like that! Hiding in a small cabin… alone. Then, that scent again — the sickening smell of death pierced through the doorway as a massive pile of ashes. Bruce knew, without a doubt, that he had just said his final prayer. The ball of ashes lunged toward him like an oncoming freight train and as his squeals for mercy were heard way down the passageway by Dellie and Dwight, Bruce was incinerated instantly beyond human recognition. Dellie and Dwight heard a whoosh behind them and instantly looked back. They were no longer being followed by what looked alien and Dwight knew that his captain had met his fate.

  "I have to go back!" he said to Dellie.

  "Don't!" she cautioned, touching his hand. "We both know that he's no longer with us."

  Dwight shook his head. He knew it was true, but felt like a traitor for not at least going back to check on his captain.

  Dellie discerned his inner struggle. "It's not your fault. You didn't sign up for this. None of us did."

  "We have to figure out what to do. Whatever these things are, they're not harmless, obviously. They're here to kill us, just like the captain said." Then another thought entered his mind. "He must've known the entire time what was coming." He had a flashback on the brief hours Bruce had slept and how he always returned to the bridge looking out at the sea as if for something in particular.

  "What do you mean?" Dellie asked.

  "Not important. We have to think survival. Nothing else matters now."

  "We have to find Gwen," Dellie said.

  They were standing near an elevator, several feet away from the stairway.

  "Do you realize something?" Dwight asked.

  Dellie looked away, then back at him. "What?"

  "There's not a sound on this ship. Where's everybody? The engineers, maintenance crew, Chef Baker, Dragos. Where's the staff?"

  Dellie knew he was asking the wrong person. It is odd, she thought. After the power went out, it would have been normal to hear people calling from all over trying to find out what was going on. Not a sound.

  "Stay close to me," Dwight advised, just before taking the lead down the flight of steps. He was heading toward the control room where the engineers monitored the vessel's systems.

  After slowly opening the door, he went in first and Dellie quietly followed. As they shone their flashlights around the room, they saw bodies slumped over desks, sprawled across the floor — seven men — all charred, all dead.

  Aghast, Dellie covered her mouth with both hands.

  "Let's go!" Dwight headed to a door that led into the adjacent engine room. Upon entering, the noise that was usually constant inside was now non-existent as the large engines were no longer running. He surmised that the ship was pretty much sitting on the water without forward progression in any particular direction.

  Dwight and Dellie worked their way through narrow spaces of the large room crammed with equipment on both sides of every aisle.

  "Sphh! Sphh!" was a sound that came from their left.

  On turning, Dellie spotted Jack Andrews tucked behind one of the machines. He motioned for them to come over, which they immediately did.

  "Be extremely quiet!" he whispered as they got close. "I don't think they can see us, but they sure can hear good."

  "How do you know?" Dellie asked.

  "I figured it out," Jack said. "That's why I'm the one still breathing in here."

  "Where's everyone else?" Dwight asked.

  "Didn't you see them? They're all around here. They're all dead, set ablaze somehow by those things," he responded anxiously. "I got a wife and kids to go home to. I can't afford to die on this stinking ship!" He was getting riled up.

  "I know. Calm down," Dwight replied. "You said they can hear good, right?"

  Jack nodded. "Right."

  "Any more in here, as far as you know?" Dwight probed.

  "Don't know. After they took out Randy over there," he pointed with his chin, "they mighta left, but I wasn't taking any chances.
Where the hell did they come from? What do they want?"

  "They came out of the sea," Dwight said.

  "What? What are they?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Where's the captain?" Jack asked.

  Dwight and Dellie glanced at each other.

  "We think he's dead," Dwight answered.

  Jack's heart dropped. He lowered his head. "The captain too?"

  Dellie touched his shoulder. "We'll be all right."

  "We have to try and find everyone else," Dwight told him. "Are you coming with us?"

  "No way! I'm staying here. I survived this far; I'm not moving 'til help gets here."

  "Hopefully, that'll be soon," Dwight replied. "Seeing that we've pretty much fallen off the radar, hopefully, they'll send a boat or chopper out to look for us. Be safe, buddy." He patted Jack's back before moving on with Dellie. As they scanned the beam of their flashlights to all sides of the room, they saw the bodies of more workers. Dwight almost tripped over one before gripping a nearby rail to break his fall.

  After safely making their way back to the main deck to see if there was yet clear passage, they did not see any of the strange entities, but were horrified to find the charred remains of many more co-workers. Dellie assumed that they must have gathered there after she, Dwight and the captain had headed to the lower level for the flashlights. There was no telling who they all were as the bodies, just like the others were torched beyond recognition. They walked quietly through the mere graveyard that accounted for most of the heads that were aboard The Caesar. Looking at one of the bodies, Dellie thought by some stretch of the imagination that it might be Weathers. As much as she despised him, she took no pleasure in him meeting such a fate.

  Then her mind went on Francesca and Ben Evans. Were they hiding somewhere or were they among the dead? The ship held an eeriness that unnerved her and she held her head, suddenly feeling like it was about to explode.

  "This can't be happening!" she cried as quietly as she could. "This can't be! I have to find Gwen… now!"