Dellie took off toward Gwen's cabin as if urgency beckoned her. A lump was in her throat the whole while as she flew up the stairs and ran the long passageway. Dwight was in close proximity to her. However, their speed was abruptly slowed when straight ahead, someone in a long, white dress appeared in the glare of their flashlights. It was Gwen. She was heading into one of the other cabins. Dellie wanted to call out to her, but remembered what Jack had said, although she wasn't sure he was right about his suspicion. She glanced back at Dwight, who nodded as if concurring that they should follow her.
Dellie made it to the door and proceeded inside. "Gwen!" she called softly. "It's me… Dell."
Gwen didn't answer.
Making way through the cabin, which was clearly one of the executive ones due to its rather large size and luxurious design, Dellie soon saw her friend stepping onto the verandah, her hand held out as if she was being led. Then, a man came into view. He was clearly older, refined, and Dellie had recognized him. However, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had not boarded the ship with them. What was even creepier was that Gwen was not acting like herself. She seemed to be in a different world; a different frame of mind.
"Gwen!" she called again, standing approximately ten feet behind her.
Gwen turned and looked at Dellie while still holding on to the hand of the strange man. "This is my Rick, Dellie. Remember my Rick? He came for me. We're going to be together forever!" she said excitedly, more like a bride who was going off on her honeymoon with the love of her life.
Dellie put up a hand in caution. "That's not Rick, Dellie. He's dead, remember? Rick won't come for you like this. Come back inside!"
"You're wrong, Dell. He's right here with us. Isn't that great?"
Suddenly, that dreadful, familiar smell invaded the room, and just as Dellie looked back at Dwight, she saw the horror in his eyes, unaware that he was watching Gwen climb rapidly over the balcony. He darted out to reach her, but it was too late. She hit the waters with a large splash and instantly plummeted beneath.
"Gwen!" Dellie cried, peering over at the spot where she landed. The entity was nowhere in sight and she knew her friend could not survive.
She wailed in overwhelming grief, not caring about the noise she probably was not supposed to make. She couldn't believe that she had witnessed the demise of her best friend. "Gwen!" she called again, hoping that by some miracle, her friend's head would pop up above the water and somehow, they could save her.
Dwight held Dellie in his arms and tried to quiet her. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."
"Captain Arahna said we're all gonna die. He's right!"
"That's not true! We've got to be strong."
Dellie was nearly inconsolable. She stood there looking out at the sea for what seemed like centuries. Gwen never resurfaced and finally, she and Dwight went inside.
"We've got to check the rest of the ship," he said. "You can wait here if you want and I'll come back for you. Just be very still and lock this door."
Dellie sucked her teeth. "A locked door won't stop them from getting to me. Don't you realize we're not dealing with flesh and bones like us?" she asked, as if he would be stupid not to know. "I'm coming with you. If I'm going to die, I'd rather not be alone."
Dwight didn't know how to respond to that. He refused to entertain the very real possibility that they might not make it off that ship alive. As far as he was concerned, giving up was not an option.
Right after leaving the cabin, they saw Mattie exit the one she shared with Junior. She was walking slowly in their direction wearing only a beige tee shirt and black panties, and her hair was tousled.
"She's got a knife!" Dellie said to Dwight. "And looks like there's blood on it."
"Don't move! Stay right here," he urged.
Dwight cautiously approached her. "Mattie…" he started softly as he noticed the large spots of blood on her shirt, "Mattie, what's wrong?"
"See for yourself," she replied nonchalantly.
"Mattie, please put the knife down. We'll go see together, okay?"
She stared at him as if maybe it was a good idea. "Okay," she conceded.
Dwight took her hand and glanced back at Dellie who had not moved. He signaled with a finger for her to follow slowly.
Dellie looked back to make sure the passageway was clear and she walked past the knife that Mattie had dropped. She heard Dwight exclaim, "Oh, no!" moments after entering the cabin.
Smack dab in the middle of the floor was Junior in a pool of his own blood, clearly dead since his throat had been slashed from one end to the other. He had nearly been decapitated.
"You did this?" Dwight grilled Mattie whose eyes were glazed over.
"He deserved it."
Her response gave him the creeps.
Dellie was bewildered. "How did you manage to do this, Mattie? He's much larger than you are."
"Stabbed him from behind first - several times. Caught him off guard. I'm not sorry; he deserved it," Mattie replied.
Dwight stood there in complete shock.
Dellie went over to Mattie. "Mattie, no one deserves that," she said, "but I know how he treated you. We're here for you." She could see that the girl had tipped over the edge.
Mattie turned away and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" Dellie asked her.
"With the others," she responded blankly.
"What others?" Dwight asked. "Everyone's dead."
"Not everyone," she said, before leaving the room.
Although there was no need for it, Dwight checked Junior's pulse anyway. "I don't know what's worse," he started. "Being taken out their way or like this."
"What now?" Dellie wondered.
Dwight thought for a moment. "Let's get back to the bridge. I want to check the panel and see if anything new happened; if I can reach anyone."
By the time they entered the passageway, Mattie was nowhere in sight. They passed her bloody knife still on the floor on their way to the stairs.
"Where do you think they all went?" Dellie asked. "We saw so many of them board this ship. Yet, all of a sudden, they're scarce."
"You should be glad," Dwight replied quietly as they hurried toward the bridge.
When they got there, he twisted the doorknob, to no avail.
"It's locked." He looked at Dellie.
"Yeah?"
"But I was the last one out of here and I didn't as much as shut the door."
"Someone obviously did. Maybe someone's in there," Dellie proposed.
Dwight twisted the knob again. "If someone's in there, open up. It's me, the O.O.W. of this ship," he said as loudly and quietly as he could.
Dellie kept looking back to make sure nothing surprised her from behind.
A few seconds later, the door cracked open. It was Floyd Weathers.
"My goodness, you two are alive! I'm so happy to see you!" he exclaimed.
Dellie had no reaction.
"Did anyone else make it as far as you know?" Dwight asked him.
"No. I don't think so. I came to see if the captain was here and on my way up, I saw two guys from maintenance and that Mattie girl jump overboard. Probably thought they'd rather die that way instead of being burnt to a crisp by those terrible things out there!"
His lips were trembling as he spoke and he, in no way at that precise moment, resembled the haughty man with his nose held high to the sky that Dellie had come to know and hate.
With the door still widely ajar, Dellie thought she heard a twitching sound behind her. Turning around quickly and with palpable fear, she aimed her flashlight in the direction of the supposed movement. The beam landed on what appeared to be black sneakers, then as she slowly raised the light, she saw legs covered by long, brown trousers. Next, was the upper body of a tall, brawny man — the same man she had spent the last seven years of her life with. It was Rob, but what was he doing there? She wondered. He was standing still, gazing at her, and looked sad and lonely. Then she remembered the
dream in which she saw him staring out at the sea. There was no way Rob could be on the ship with them. She had left him at home, which meant, in her mind, this could only be an apparition or a trick that lured Gwen to her death. She was not going to be duped by ghastly savages who wanted their blood.
Dwight and Weathers saw him too. "Dellie, shut the door!" Dwight urged her.
Dellie kept looking at the figure staring back at her as a million thoughts and emotions invaded her soul. No matter what she had seen regarding Gwen, something told her that this was no trick. She felt Rob's presence and in that moment in time, she also felt his pain. He raised his head slightly, then lowered it again to a long nod and she knew he was trying to tell her something.
Dellie exited the room and started walking toward the man.
"Dellie, come back here!" Dwight shouted.
She turned for a moment and replied, "It's okay. Trust me."
She continued on.
"It's a trick, Dellie! If you think you know him, remember Gwen. It's all a trick!"
Dellie didn't listen. She stopped only when they were about a foot apart.
Weathers was cowering behind Dwight in the room. "Close the door! Dammit!" he cried. "Close it now or I will!"
Dwight gripped him by the collar. "You shut that door, and you won't have to worry about those things out there getting you. I'll break your scrawny neck and toss you overboard and you'll be lunch meat for the sharks!"
Weathers shrugged away and escaped to the back of the room.
Instinctively, Dellie knew that Rob couldn't speak to her, yet she could tell that he had much to say. Something unsettling persuaded her that there was an explanation for his presence on that ship that he never actually boarded.
"Rob," she said, "what are you doing here?" She was looking into those lifeless, colorless eyes and an intense sadness enveloped her. At least now in reality, he could see her, unlike the way it was in the dream where she thought he didn't know she was there with him. He raised his right hand and gently placed it over his heart, then a single tear drop fell from his eye. Dellie's heart sank, for in that instant, her worst fear was confirmed. She also knew that he was sincerely sorry and that everything he had said to her the day she had left for the voyage was true. This time, he meant every word of it.
"Rob, are you dead?" she asked.
He only stared.
"I'm sorry, honey. I'm sorry I didn't give you another chance." The tears were streaming down her face. "If I never leave this ship, I deserve it. I should have tried harder. We both should have."
Rob's stare was soon diverted straight ahead. Weathers was at the door, peeping out. Within seconds, there were loud whoosh sounds coming from all directions. Dellie and Dwight expected the worse. Looking out from the bridge, Dwight noticed that the sea had become terrifyingly rough and waves were hitting the vessel with a pronounced vengeance. Dellie shone her light in Rob's direction again, but he was gone.
She ran back toward the room to join the others and before she made it inside, Weathers slammed the door shut, locking it.
Dwight quickly turned, unlocked the door and pulled Dellie inside.
"You bastard!" he charged at Weathers.
"They're coming for me!" Weathers cried, holding onto him like a frightened child would his father. "They want my blood!"
Dellie glared at Weathers. "Tell us why they're coming for you. Dwight, he knows more than he's said!" she angrily blurted.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Weathers insisted.
"You're lying! That's why Rob looked your way before all of that commotion started. He couldn't tell me the reason, but you know why those things, creatures or whatever you wanna call them are on this ship!"
Dwight went and grabbed Weathers by the neck. "I believe every word she just said. If that man out there was one of them, she would not be standing here with us right now. You know something and you're gonna tell us exactly what it is or you're going out there now!"
"Please! Please! Don't make me go out there!" Weathers pleaded. "I'll… I'll tell you everything. Just please promise you'll protect me."
The look on his face made Dellie feel more disgust than pity.
"I promise I won’t throw you out there and that's about it," Dwight responded.
Weathers gulped. "Twenty years ago, I was working in maintenance for a smaller ship-building enterprise. I was part of a shakedown for one of the ships built that year and Bruce Arahna was in charge of that voyage. He and I grew up together and were good friends all those years. We both wanted so badly to get ahead in life and…"
"What happened?!" Dwight barked as the noise got closer and louder.
"What happened is that Bruce was instructed by the owner of the company to transport some precious stones worth millions to a buyer at the city where we'd dock. But when he confided in Clyde Dragos Sr. about what was going to take place, he had a plan. Clyde Dragos was a part of an elite group that Bruce belonged to and that's how they became friends. The plan was set in motion before we even left the dock for the shakedown. The engines were rigged by Bruce and me and we made sure we had one of the emergency boats ready before the explosion."
"Explosion?" Dellie uttered in disbelief.
Weathers nodded abashedly.
"So, you and the captain killed everyone on board and made off with the stones," Dwight asserted.
"Yeah, basically. People thought we were lucky to have escaped, but they had no idea what really happened."
"Why now? Why is this happening now and not before?" Dwight felt he needed the answer.
Weathers lowered his head slightly. "Today is the twentieth anniversary of the disaster. I don't know why this is happening twenty years after the fact and not the first or second. I have no idea."
"How many people were aboard that ship?" Dellie asked.
"Around seventy or eighty; something like that," Weathers reluctantly replied. "After that, Dragos hired us right away. He got the stones, but Bruce and I got a hefty payment for our efforts and good positions in the company." He glanced at them both. "I know you think I'm the devil. I realize what I did was terrible, but I was just trying to get ahead!"
"You measly piece of crap!" Dwight snarled, before slowly proceeding to the door. The noise had suddenly been reduced to a uniformed buzz. "I know what I said, but I change my mind."
"What're you doing?" Weathers demanded.
"Giving those poor souls justice. They don't want us. They want you."
"No! No! Please don’t do that! I'll do anything. I have a large chunk of money set aside. It's all yours!"
"I don't want any of your blood money, Weathers." Dwight opened the door widely. Dellie stood next to him as he held her arm protectively.
Outside the door were scores of the charred entities and the scent was insanely repulsive. Dwight and Dellie instantly pressed their hands over their noses to escape it.
Weathers, in a panic, fled to a corner of the room and crouched down.
Dwight went over to him. "You either go out on your own as they're obviously waiting or I will throw you out."
Weathers was sweating profusely and screaming. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Get up and face what you've done like a man!" Dwight said.
Weathers didn't budge for what felt like ages, then eventually, he stood up. He knew that the fact that they were out there waiting meant it could be no other way. Dwight watched as the lanky man slowly headed for the door. Weathers looked back at Dwight and Dellie before passing the threshold; they said nothing more. After he advanced approximately six feet into the adjoining room, the entities closed in all at once. Weathers was loudly pleading for mercy stating how sorry he was, but his cries were met with the exact measure of mercy he had shown the ghastly crew before they perished. A large fire erupted in the spot where he stood and his screams filled the air.
It was evident to Dwight and Dellie that the once human souls were giving Weathers a taste of his own medicine in grand styl
e. His voice was cut down to a squeal, then there was deafening silence. What ultimately remained on the open floor was an incinerated carcass of a man who had caused tremendous pain to so many people in his lifetime. It was still smothered in smoke.
The ghosts were standing there again just like before when suddenly, the little girl Dellie had seen in the pale, yellow dress with straggly hair appeared in front of the room. "Daddy!" she cried while dashing toward one of the phantoms who stood several feet away. The object of her affection, swept her into his arms and the two tightly embraced for what seemed like forever. Dellie's heart was softened. She intuitively knew that the little girl had also met an early demise sometime after the death of her father. Then something surreal happened. The child's death-like appearance soon evolved to what she had once looked like in life. Her hair was long and healthy again; her face bright with cheer and her yellow dress brand new. Dellie and Dwight stood in awe of what they were witnessing. Seconds later, all of the hideous entities were being released of their charred, distorted shells as they each regained their human form.
Rob stood among them. His eyes were no longer colorless, but the hazel hue that Dellie so admired had returned. There was a placidity in his face that warmed her heart. Dellie looked at him with the love she had felt the day they were married and realized that she had fully forgiven him. Even better, he had forgiven himself.
Each of the ghostly beings were slowly and effortlessly rising toward the ceiling, including the little girl and her father, and through it, they went. Rob was the last to go. With a lingering stare, he gave his wife one last smile, to which she blew him a heartfelt kiss. Dellie and Dwight watched as he, too, was elevated and vanished into thin air.
The moment Rob left, power and all functionality was restored to the ship.
Back at home
Dellie discovered that Rob had taken his own life. He put a single bullet from a Glock pistol to his temple while sitting on their bed, just hours after Dellie had left the house. Although the embalmers were sure they could have re-constructed his now deformed skull, Dellie chose to remember him the way he was that day on The Caesar. He was given a closed-casket funeral.
Haunted Cruise: The Shakedown Page 7