He craned his head to look downward.
“See it? It’s all buckled. Maybe that’s what that huge bang was. The elevator falling.”
His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. “Oh God, do you think there were people in it?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, frowning. “But we need to find out. Maybe they’re alive.”
But the elevator was mangled. Almost beyond recognition.
It would be impossible for anyone to have survived.
The last time Madeline had seen a dead body, it’d been a sight that’d plagued her nightmares ever since.
If someone had been in that elevator, then they would have some horrific injuries. Madeline wasn’t sure she could cope seeing something like that.
Chapter Twenty
Zon had struggled to keep his trap shut during the Captain’s speech. After all, the dude had only been promoted to Captain because the real Captain was dead. He was probably feelin’ like he was king shit. Being a new boss an’ all. And he was treatin’ ’em all like idiots.
Then when everyone’s phone went out like that, Captain Dickhead had crouched down to talk to the fat dude in the Hawaiian shirt. It was Zon’s mate, one of the ones he’d met at the Chinese buffet. And whatever they were talking about, it had the Captain lookin’ like he’d shat his pants. So, whatever it was, it affected Zon.
And every other fucker on the ship.
There was so much going on around him. People spewing. Women screaming. Babies crying. Hell, even grown men crying. The shit was totally hittin’ the fan. And that meant Zon could get around like he was invisible.
He strode to the chick with the hoop earrings. “Hey.”
“Oh, hey.” She looked up at him and tucked her hair behind her ear. The way she did it was kinda erotic, and Zon had a feelin’ she liked what she saw.
“Whadaya think’s goin’ on now?”
“Phase two.”
“Huh?” He tugged on his beard. “Phase two?”
She glanced at the Captain and the dude talkin’ to the Captain, and then turned back to him with a confused look on her face. Was she scared to tell me? Like it was some kinda secret pact all them Hawaiian shirts were in on, and Zon wasn’t invited.
The Captain stood again. The fat dude whistled again. But the crowd didn’t shut up so much this time.
“Please, everybody. You need to remain calm,” the Captain hollered.
Zon scanned the faces around him. Calm was not what he was seeing. Nope. Calm weren’t playin’ no part in it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please. I need your attention.”
Zon offered earring chick his sexiest smile. “It’s going a bit crazy, huh?”
“This is just the beginning.”
“Really? So, ahhh, what’s this phase two?”
She did a little head-dip thing and, thinkin’ she wanted to be discreet, he leaned in.
“Phase one was the first EMP strike. Takes out any electrical components within line of sight of the initial detonation. People think everything has gone to shit. But anybody who’s smart would’ve had a backup plan. They’d have a bug-out bag. But phase two is a second EMP, timed to trigger several hours later. And it’s delayed like that on purpose to take out the bug-out gear.”
“Bug-out gear?”
“Yeah, you know—grab bag, battle box, INCH bag . . . whatever you want to call it. It’s where you stash your necessities to get you through a disaster.”
“You mean like survival gear—guns and food and stuff.”
“Exactly. So anyone who’d opened their bug-out bag and was using their phone or two-way or sat phone just got them fried in the second EMP.”
“Shit, huh?”
“Yeah. Oh shit, is right. If the Captain thought anyone was coming for us before . . . they’re not coming now. You think this is hell? Come morning, reality is really going to sink in. You noticed the engines have stopped, right?”
He nodded.
“That’s the least of it. Water’s stopped pumping. The toilets stopped working. No power. No air-con. People can’t get into their cabins. Everyone will be thirsty and starving come sunrise. Parents will do anything to feed their kids. And the number of fatalities we have now are going to multiply quickly.”
Zon shot her a glance.
“I mean it. Some of the people who are already dead died because their pacemaker got fried. The diabetics who need refrigerated insulin? Well, in this heat?” She waved her hand like she was trying to catch the heat waves or somethin’. “They’ve got no chance.”
“You know a lot about this stuff, huh?”
“Not me. My dad.” She nodded at the fat dude in the Hawaiian shirt.
Zon shot a glance at him, and then back to her. “He’s your dad?”
“Yep.” She rolled her eyes and Zon had to agree with her. It was hard to believe those two were from the same planet, let alone related.
“Please, everyone, line up in an orderly fashion.” The Captain was still trying to command attention and sexy chick’s dad was still whistlin’ to help him.
There wasn’t no way Zon was givin’ his name to no one. Especially if it meant linin’ up. He don’t line up for nothin’, or nobody. The crowd had gone crazy. Half of ’em were cryin’. People were spewing. Some did as they were told. But some were lookin’ around like they couldn’t make a decision.
Not him. Zon knew exactly what he was gonna do. He had no intention of spending the night on that deck with no lights and people spewing their guts up everywhere. He was gonna go down to his cabin and sleep in his own bed. Didn’t matter that his key didn’t work; he’d bash down the door. He didn’t even have to sneak away. He’d just follow the big crowd of people who seemed to have the same idea as him.
But when he glanced down at sexy chick, he was suddenly torn. For the first time in forever he was enjoyin’ someone else’s company. And a chick too. “Hey, I’m Zon, by the way.”
“Zon. Cool name.”
She shook his hand, and that right there confirmed she really did like him.
But she didn’t tell him her name, and he waited for a bit, expectin’ her to say it. She didn’t. And it got to feeling so awkward he couldn’t ask no more. He shoved his hands in his pockets and felt all that cash he’d stashed in there. It reminded him of all them other valuables he’d scored. He should go and stash them proper. But on account of there being no lights, he figured he’d wait till tomorrow. He glanced down at the sexy chick. “So, what’s your plan?”
She nodded at her daddy. “I’m sticking with him.”
“Ahhh. You got your bug-out bags, huh?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Dad’s real angry at himself about that. He’s got a heap of them set up at home, ready to go. Lot of good that’s going to do us now.”
One of them Hawaiian shirt dudes came up next to them. He looked at Zon, then back at the earring chick. “Hey, Jessie, we’re going to line up over there.” He pointed to a front corner.
“Okay, I’ll meet you when Dad’s finished.”
“Okay, but don’t wait too long.” The dude shot Zon another look, then strode away.
At least now Zon knew her name.
She was lookin’ at her dad, but seemed okay with hangin’ with Zon. Nobody ever wanted to hang with him so he figured he might as well try and learn somethin’ while she was here. “How come your dad knows so much?”
“Dad’s a researcher for Paramount Pictures. You know, the movie-makers.”
“Oh, really?” Zon glanced over to the fat dude with a new level of respect. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Has he worked on anythin’ famous?”
“Sure. Ever seen War of the Worlds?” She tugged on one of her earrings.
He studied the five silver loops threading up her ear as he searched his brain for an answer. “Ummm.”
“You know . . . aliens invade the world and start harvesting humans. Remember it now?”
> “Oh yeah.” He lied. Zon ain’t seen a movie in a long time.
“Remember . . . the aliens used an EMP attack to destroy all electronics.”
He nodded but at the same time, he was wonderin’ why the fuck anyone would watch somethin’ so stupid.
“Anyway, Dad was the factual researcher for that movie. He learned a lot of stuff about what would happen if the entire country lost power. It was fascinating. Fun, even, to think of all the things that wouldn’t work and the consequences if such a thing happened. Dad became obsessed with it. But that was just a movie. This is real.”
Zon glanced at her daddy. The fat fucker didn’t know it yet, but he’d just made his-self Zon’s new best friend. He turned his gaze back to the sexy chick.
She glanced up at him with one eyebrow raised. “It’s not going to be fun anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Gunner jumped down and pulled Albert aside. He had a million questions, and every one of them was slamming into his brain like carriages on a runaway train. He blurted out the first one that came to mind. “Albert, why did some phones work after the EMP?”
Albert simultaneously shrugged and rolled his eyes. “An EMP can penetrate via a front door or back door. Examples of front doors are the antennas, couplers, or transmission lines. Back door access is paths of entry through doors, windows, vents, power cables, control lines.” His eyes bulged. “Look around—your ship was practically begging to be attacked. Many items below deck could’ve been protected. The reason for the second EMP strike is to take out the electrical components they missed in the first strike. A two-phase attack. So, any phones that survived the first attack, if they were mobilized into a front door or back door position, and that plane . . . well, it’s essentially gave the second EMP a massive back door.”
Albert’s explanation of phase two did two things for Gunner. First, it confirmed that the United States of America was at war. An EMP strike could be the result of a solar flare. Two EMP strikes, though, confirmed they were man-made.
Second thing it did was scare the hell out of him. If America really was at war, he should be home with his wife and daughter. He should be protecting them, not trying to save hundreds of strangers.
Maybe Adelle would go to her father. Gunner’s father-in-law was ex-Navy. Hank was also overweight, drank way too much, and spent more time restoring vintage cars than visiting his granddaughter but Hank would look after them. Hell, he would die for them.
Gunner’s mind flashed to his mother and his galloping heart set a different beat, faster, harder. Who would look after her? Would they release her from prison? Oh God . . . if they did, where would she go?
The unanswerable questions kept coming, stinging with random brutality, like a wasps’ nest had exploded in his brain.
The second EMP strike meant there was zero chance they would be rescued. Not when the government had an entire nation in trouble.
Gunner’s gut twisted.
Rose of the Sea was officially dead in the water and more than eleven hundred people were trapped. They were about to become thirsty. And hungry. And scared and desperate.
And angry.
More than a thousand people were expecting him to have answers. Answers that he absolutely did not have.
But the passengers didn’t need to know his grizzly assumptions about the EMP strike. They’d already been through enough. Adding the real story behind their troubles would do nothing other than incite elevated panic.
With Willis’ help and Albert’s ear-piercing whistle, Gunner had managed to get the crowd’s attention again and finally, with just the moonlight guiding their way, most of the passengers were following orders and lining up to give their information at the eight designated stations. He was damn lucky it wasn’t a cloudy night.
Gunner jumped down from the bar top. Brandi was still at his side with her pen poised over the paper. He didn’t need her hearing what he was about to say, so he reached for the paper. “Thank you for your help. Now, go find your brothers and get in line. Okay?”
She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. Clearly, she had something to say, but either she couldn’t shape the words, or she didn’t want to do it in front of Albert. Either way, she offered a lopsided smile, turned and disappeared into the restless throng.
Gunner pulled Albert aside. “Please don’t tell anyone about the possibility that this was a terrorist attack. We don’t need to scare them any more than they already are.”
Albert snuck a glance at his friends, who were now waiting in one of the lines and looking at Albert with greedy expressions. Like they were hungry for gossip. “Okay. I understand.”
Gunner shared his gaze between Albert and the agitated crowd moving about the deck. The crew were directing the passengers to the various areas. It was organized chaos. But at least they were doing something. He touched Albert’s shoulder. “Thank you for your help. At my first available moment, I’d like to pick your brain on the implications of these EMP strikes.”
Albert’s eyes drooped. “Yeah, sure. I feel like an idiot.”
“What? Why?” A couple with four crying children shuffled past, and when the woman’s sunken eyes met his, Gunner’s fear rose like a demon. They were so young. So innocent. And they were about to go through hell. Everyone was.
He shifted his gaze back to Albert, who was rambling.
“We’d always talked about this happening and I thought I was prepared. But I don’t have my bug-out bags with me, and even worse, I should have predicted the second strike. I should have kept my phone in my cabin where it was protected.” He thumped his phone into his hand, which was now nothing but a useless lump of plastic. “That’s why they do it. I should have known better. I can’t believe they got me.” Shaking his head had his second chin wobbling. “I thought I was prepared.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. This is unprecedented. The United States has never suffered anything like this before. Look, I need to sort some things out. I’ll come and find you soon. Now join your friends in that line.”
“Yeah, sure. Will do.”
Judging by the animated reunion Albert received when he rejoined his friends, Gunner wasn’t a hundred percent certain his new advisor would keep their secret to himself. Albert and his friends looked way too wired to keep things under wraps. Hopefully they’d contain it within their group.
Yet he doubted that miracle would happen.
A bolt of lightning fractured the night sky, illuminating a cloud like it was an enormous floodlight. The moon’s visibility was crisp and clear, yet the swirling black cloud beneath it was a fat roll, tumbling over, and about to consume their only light source.
Without warning, wind hit them like a sonic boom. A collective force blew bits of debris and small children over. Gunner looked skyward and frowned.
Another fork of lightning razed the sky with a heart-thumping crack that had hundreds of people screaming and ducking for cover.
Gunner’s brain hit panic mode. He’d missed the warning signs.
A thousand people were about to be hit with nature’s fury.
He raced toward the crowd. “Albert! Get inside. Now!”
Albert’s eyes bulged. His jaw dropped. But he must’ve seen Gunner’s panic, because he reacted by grabbing the wrist of a dark-haired girl and pulling her toward the exit doors.
Gunner was furious at himself but there was no time for that.
If he’d had radar, navigation equipment, and electronic charting systems, he would’ve seen the storm coming.
If he’d had sirens, a PA system, and his full complement of crew, he could’ve warned the passengers to get inside.
With engines, he could’ve turned the ship to face the waves rather than tackle them broadside.
But he had nothing.
Rose of the Sea was positioned at the worst possible angle to combat the swell that was about to hit them. A blaze of lightning forked the sky and at exactly the same moment, fat raindrops spewed from the clouds
, heavy and hard.
People began screaming. And running.
“Everybody. Get inside.” He clutched passengers’ arms, dragging them toward the two doorways either side of the bar. “Inside. Quick.”
The ship reared up steady and silent. Port side first, a good twenty-foot lurch, and slammed down with a bone-jarring clash that knocked dozens of passengers off their feet.
Gunner wanted to help them. But a thousand things were happening at once.
Screaming intensified. Any semblance of order was lost and every man for himself became the mantra as they all ran for cover.
Passengers were trampled in the rush. A young girl slipped over and her mother was franticly trying to drag her upright. People trampled her small legs. The girl screamed. An elderly man tumbled sideways, taking out the elderly woman at his side. Both crashed over a deck chair.
Gunner fought the ship’s imbalance as it bucked like a rearing bronco. Grasping at a pole, he dragged people forward. Clutching Cindy’s outstretched hand, he pulled her toward the bar and shoved her in the direction of the crowded doorway.
Lightning pierced the heaving clouds, highlighting the chaos, and the passengers’ terrified screams intensified. A thunderclap exploded like a supersonic boom.
The ship rolled. Twenty feet. And again. Twenty-four feet. Up and down. Over and over. People clung to deck chairs and both them and the furniture were tossed sideways. The deck became slippery. An Asian woman in pink stilettos grasped a man at her side and both of them were knocked off their feet and swept toward the damaged railing. The woman’s mouth was wide open, but Gunner didn’t hear her scream as they were tossed off the deck and disappeared into the black beyond.
The ship rolled again, twenty-six feet this time, and the pool water rose like a liquid hand and swept over the crowd. Together, men, women, and children screamed as they barrel-rolled toward the wrecked railing. They clawed the deck. They clawed at each other. But they were powerless against the force of the water.
Waves of Fate | Book 1 | First Fate Page 16