Waves of Fate | Book 1 | First Fate

by Talbot, Kendall

  People ran. People screamed.

  Bodies disappeared beneath the water and returned in a burst of crimson with chunks missing.

  One fin became four. Four fins became twenty.

  In the space of minutes, the beautiful ceremony became a gruesome bloodbath. Gunner couldn’t drag his eyes away.

  I was already the worst cruise Captain in the world.

  Now I’m also the Captain who tossed the bodies to the sharks.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gabby stared wide-eyed and openmouthed at the bloodbath and a truly rotten thought blazed across her mind. If she’d had the means to record this, she would’ve won the exclusive Pulitzer Prize.

  She hated that her mind went there. Hated it.

  But after two decades of chasing a good story it was ingrained into her being.

  Sensationalism was what the viewers wanted.

  Controversy was the key.

  Sharks feeding on bodies that had already suffered . . . now that was controversy.

  Her next thought had her clutching the railing as a dry heave wrenched up her throat. Was Sally taken by a shark? No. She clamped her jaw and fought back frightful images. Sally did not go overboard. She didn’t. Sally was still somewhere on the ship. Alive and waiting to be found. Gabby refused to believe otherwise.

  She dragged her eyes away from the bloody ocean to glance at Max. He was holding Adam to his side. Her boy’s shoulders heaved with obvious distress. Max bulged his eyes at her, then clamped his jaw in a look that she’d come to recognize as his seething fury.

  She mouthed, ‘What?’

  He just shook his head.

  She scowled right back at him and returned her gaze to the ocean.

  She had no idea what his problem was; it wasn’t like she’d planned for this to happen. Her eyes caught a flash of orange to the rear of the boat and she did a double take.

  “There’s a boat!” she yelled. “Captain! Captain! There’s a boat.” She pointed toward it. “Captain!”

  The chaos around them stilled. People turned to her with their gaze aiming in the direction of her outstretched arm.

  Gunner pushed through the crowd, raced to her side. “Where?” Sykes joined him and they shielded their eyes from the setting sun.

  Leaning over the railing, she pointed. “At the back, there. See it?”

  “Shit! Sykes,” Gunner blurted. “Is that our tender?”

  “Those idiots,” Sykes hissed.

  “Quick, get my binoculars.”

  Sykes spun around and sprinted away like he had a bullseye on his back.

  “Who is it? Where’d they get the boat?” Gabby shared her gaze between the slow-moving boat and the bulging-eyed Captain. His look of fury was as potent as Max’s had been moments ago.

  “It’s our tender. The boat we use to take people to shore.”

  “You have another boat? Why haven’t we used it to save us?”

  He shook his head. “It’s designed to take passengers from ship to shore, not for the open ocean. And it’s not just that; unless they found fuel somewhere, they’ll be lucky to get twenty nautical miles. Oh God, those stupid people. They’re going to die on that thing.”

  “But how come the engine works?”

  He shook his head, and a frown rippled his forehead. “It obviously doesn’t have any electrical components.”

  “Sir.” Sykes shoved the binoculars at the Captain.

  Gunner snatched them and peered at the departing boat. “Jesus Christ! It’s Dane Tanner and Riley Cohen.”

  “Who are they?” She asked.

  “The men who were guarding our water and food.” Sykes clenched his jaw.

  “Son of a bitch!” Gunner spoke with the binoculars to his eyes. “There’s about thirty people on that thing. Oh God, those idiots.”

  “Sir.” The muscles bulged along Sykes’ rigid jaw. “They probably took supplies!”

  The Captain lowered the binoculars. Blood drained from his face.

  Without a word, the two of them took off, running along the deck toward the rear of the ship.

  Gabby couldn’t help herself. She raced after them.

  The Captain and Sykes were much faster than her, and she lost sight of them once they dashed through a set of double swinging doors. But Gabby knew where they were going . . . the gymnasium.

  All their food and water had been stored and secured in there, and over the last three days, the Captain and crew had been carefully rationing their servings to ensure longevity of the supplies. With a hundred or so mouths to feed, it was an activity in diligence, planning, and continual monitoring.

  But if their supplies had been depleted by a group of selfish thieves, then the remaining people on Rose of the Sea could be in serious trouble.

  Gabby could barely breathe by the time she reached the gym.

  “Fuck!” Gunner clenched his fists and banged them onto a counter top. He glanced at her and held his hand up. “Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No need to apologize. How bad is it?”

  He heaved a heavy sigh. “They’ve taken over half our water, all the remaining fruit and vegetables and at least a third of the canned goods.”

  “They must’ve been planning this for a while.” Sykes kicked a huge bag of flour that was yet to be opened.

  The Captain nodded. “I can’t believe they used the funeral as a decoy.”

  “Gutless bastards.” Sykes’ eyes darted about the room as he drove his fingers through his buzzcut hair.

  “Yeah, well.” Gunner shook his head. “They’ve probably just signed their own death notices.”

  “Why do you say that, Captain?” Gabby wished she had her recording stick. “With all the food and water they’ve taken, they should be fine. Shouldn’t they?”

  He shook his head. “We’d already checked the devices on the tender and all the life rafts. The GPS’s are all dead, and even if they were working, there are no damn satellites anyway.” He slapped his hand on a wall. “Those idiots have no idea where they’re going. It’s only a matter of time before they run out of fuel and then they’ll be floating around out there in that stupid little boat. God!” He threw his hands in the air. “I should’ve seen this coming.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, sir.” Sykes gripped the Captains shoulder. “This was unpredictable.”

  “No.” His steely gaze radiated anger. “This was inevitable. Hungry people get desperate.”

  “What do we do now?” Gabby asked.

  The Captain rubbed his hand over his rough beard and when he squeezed his eyes shut, they flickered beneath his eyelids like he was trying to eradicate horrific images. Between bloody shark attacks and burned bodies and amputations, and people dying by the minute, he had plenty to choose from.

  Gunner huffed out a forceful breath and straightened his shoulders. “Okay, first let’s count how many souls we have remaining on board, then we’ll count the rations. Sykes, you guard this stuff like your life depends on it.”

  “Yes, sir.” He saluted the Captain. “I think it does.”

  He nodded. “Sadly, you’re right.” He turned to her. “Mrs. Kinsella, can you help me please?”

  “Of course. But only if you call me Gabby.” She offered Sykes what she hoped was a reassuring smile and then she fell into stride with Gunner.

  Her brain was like question soup, and they’d reached the beauty salon before she scooped out one to ask. “Captain, how many days’ worth of food do you think we have left?”

  “Please, call me Gunner.”

  “Gunner.” She nodded. It would be a great name for a headline. Gunner McCrae, a Captain made with mettle.

  “It’s not the food I’m worried about; it’s the water.” His tight lips made the grim statement even more so.

  “But we can’t run out of water.”

  He looked at her, deadpan. “I’m afraid we can.”

  Her stomach twisted. “But I don’t understand. This ship is built for up to fifteen hundre
d passengers; there are only about a hundred or so of us left. There should be an ample supply remaining.”

  He stopped and faced her. The dread dominating his expression had her heart skipping a beat. “Gabrielle, when we left Los Angeles, we were stocked for a fourteen-day cruise. Because of space constraints and spoilage issues, we only carry the minimum, plus an additional five percent for contingencies. We are now at day fifteen. Our desalination plant was destroyed and the storage tank that supplied clean water throughout the ship was ruptured in the explosion. We only have bottled drinks remaining. And as we are also using bottled water to clean wounds et cetera, they are diminishing fast.”

  Gabby’s hand went to her mouth. Her heart launched to her throat.

  The grim fear the Captain emanated was every bit real.

  The possibility that they may not actually get off the ship alive blazed through her like a firestorm. Blood pumped faster through her veins. Her head began to swim. An odor as potent as it was evil invaded her nostrils.

  Gabby’s knees buckled. Her world toppled. Everything went black.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Madeline sucked air through her teeth, forcing her brain to ignore the agony in her side as she dragged a lump of plasterboard away from the never-ending pile of rubble. Although the blood flow had slowed, the stinging was becoming worse.

  For the umpteenth time, she examined the wound while in the restroom. It needed stitches. Her only hope was there’d be a doctor in the medical center when they finally got through the mountain of wreckage.

  Moving the rubbish was the distraction she needed.

  But they’d already been at it for more than a day, and there was still so much more.

  With each scrap she moved, the creep of dread crawling through her stomach grew that little bit more. The niggling feeling that they’d been abandoned wouldn’t budge. She knew that horror all too well. Dozens of times during her kidnapping, Flint had left her for so long that she’d thought she’d been abandoned.

  Her and Sterling hadn’t seen or heard anyone since those stupid people were giggling in the dark on the other side of the elevator. At least, not anybody alive.

  Sterling groaned as he hauled a twisted strip of metal aside and turned to her with an overwhelmed expression on his face. Maybe he’s thinking the same thing. He wiped sweat from his forehead, leaving black smudges above his brows. “Let’s stop for a break, huh?”

  “Sure.”

  Sterling fetched a couple more packets of food from the food trolley while Madeline checked on the girl. She was resting on a mattress they’d tugged from one of the cabins. Madeline knelt at her side and brushed away a wisp of hair that was curling across the girl’s cheek. That alone should have had her stirring, but the girl’s breathing was the only indication she was alive.

  “She okay?” Sterling asked.

  It was an impossible question. “She’s still breathing.”

  “Then she’s okay.”

  Madeline sat with her back against a wall and Sterling slid in beside her and handed her the snacks—nuts and pretzels this time—and a bottle of water. As she nibbled on the pretzels, she gazed out the hole in the ship and inhaled the ocean breeze. It was a refreshing tonic after the smoke they’d inhaled a few days ago. The sun was no longer visible but thankfully there was enough light bouncing off the clouds and ocean for them to still see. They were about to spend another night in the dark and there was nothing they could do about it.

  After the snacks, Sterling dusted his hands on his shorts and stood. He heaved a sigh and rolled his head and shoulders. “Ready to keep going?”

  A pang of sorrow squeezed her chest at the gloom in his eyes. Hopelessness was creeping in like a poisonous weed. She’d been there before and if they didn’t curb it, it would take over every thought. It was up to her to turn on the positive vibes. Slapping away her tangled emotions, she smiled up at him and offered her hand. “Sure am. I’m excited.”

  “Liar.” His chuckle had the dimple in his left cheek deepening, transforming his forlorn expression into a stunning smile.

  Her breath caught at how handsome he was, even with the black smudges and sweat-soaked hair. He gripped her hand, helping her to stand, and when he touched the small of her back, butterflies did lovely pirouettes in her stomach. The sensation caught her off-guard and for the briefest of moments she forgot that they were trapped in a disaster zone with a burnt body barely forty feet away, and an unconscious girl at their side.

  But her brief reprieve was obliterated when her gaze shifted to the huge pile of debris still blocking their access to the medical clinic.

  How long have we been at it?

  And how much longer will we have to work?

  And why haven’t we heard or seen anybody else?

  With each passing hour, their precious light diminished. Shadows dominated their work area. Each step became more precarious. And a hive of bees buzzed in her belly at the horrendous notion that they truly had been abandoned.

  “That’s nice.”

  His comment made her jump and she blinked at him. “Pardon?”

  “Your humming . . . It’s, it’s nice.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t realized she’d been doing it. “Sorry.”

  “No. Don’t stop. I like it.”

  The bees in her stomach morphed into butterflies and her heart skipped a beat. For the first time in her adult life she was gripped with the temptation to voluntarily tell someone about her childhood. But the instant she contemplated it, she reeled in the idea.

  She wanted him to think she was normal.

  They’d discussed stopping twice. But both times they’d agreed to carry on for just a little bit more.

  Madeline scrambled up the pile that didn’t seem to be diminishing. At the top, she grabbed onto an unrecognizable chunk of debris and tossed it aside. She turned back to the pile and her eyes snagged on a small hole, barely bigger than her big toe. Yet it was enough to emit the now familiar green-hued lighting. She pumped her fist. “Sterling! Quick. Look.”

  He crawled over wreckage toward her, his eyes following her outstretched finger. “Yes! We did it.”

  Finally, a miracle.

  “Thank God!” Sterling’s face lit with a curious mix of relief and elation. He pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and for the briefest of moments, closed her eyes and imagined they were somewhere else. Somewhere sunny and fresh. Somewhere that didn’t have bodies and giant chunks of wreckage. But then another thought crawled through her that was as silly as it was harrowing.

  Once they were out of this hellhole, would Sterling want to see her again?

  Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go any further.

  Sterling slapped his grubby palm to her shoulder. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

  Wrestling her ragged emotions, she joined Sterling’s side and they attacked the rubbish with renewed energy. The hole gradually increased and a wind whistled into the passageway.

  They pulled aside a mangled door, enlarging the hole a fraction more, and were blasted with a rotten stench that enveloped her like a sewer pit.

  Gagging, she recoiled. “Oh God, what’s that?” Slapping her hand over her mouth, she eased away from the breeze.

  Sterling did the same. It was a long moment before he stepped forward again and dragged another large mangled sheet of plasterboard away. With it gone, they were able to see the source of the smell. Madeline gasped.

  The corridor was lined with bodies and the green light made the ghastly scene even more horrific.

  Sterling crawled through the hole first, reached for Madeline’s hand and helped her through.

  A woman lay on her side with one hand stretched out and one hand beneath her cheek. She looked to be sleeping. She wouldn’t be.

  Sterling knelt at the woman’s side. “Are you okay?” He nudged her shoulder and the woman’s head wobbled.

  Sterling pressed his fingers to her neck and then, after a few hear
tbeats, he shook his head and stood.

  “Sterling, look at her hands.” The womans fingers and palms were covered in blood.

  Madeline shot her gaze from one body to the next. All of them had bloody hands. “What do you think happened?”

  “They were trying to claw themselves out.”

  “Oh jeez. Why are they all dead?”

  “No idea.” Shaking his head, he reached for her hand. “Come on.”

  Sterling led the way along the green-lit corridor. Madeline kept her hand over her mouth as she followed. At the first open cabin door, Sterling looked inside and with a guttural groan, his shoulders slumped. Madeline didn’t want to see, but unable to help herself, she peered around Sterling’s side.

  A man was on the floor near the entrance. On the double bed were three other bodies: a woman and two children, a boy and a girl. They were all dead.

  Their brief glimmer of hope of a rescue shattered to a million pieces. A sob burst from her throat, and when Sterling turned to her, his skin was bathed in a ghastly green tinge. He tugged her to his chest. Madeline wrapped her arms around him and she felt his need for the hug as much as she did. She inhaled a shaky breath. “What’s going on, Sterling?”

  He glided his hand down her back. “I think it’s some kind of poisoning.”

  “What?” She gasped and stepped back. “We should get out of here.”

  He glanced back at the people, but otherwise didn’t move.

  “Sterling, we have to get out of here.”

  “I think we’ll be okay.”

  “What? How can you be so sure?”

  “That pile of rubble we moved. Did you notice the breeze after we did that?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I think this was carbon monoxide poisoning. It’s deadly in confined spaces.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He shrugged. “I think so. We had some training on it at the school last year. And a couple of us teachers bought those detectors. It’s the only way to confirm if there’s a carbon monoxide leak. It’s odorless and tasteless.”

  “So, these people had no idea . . .”

  “No. It’s like when someone commits suicide in their car by using the exhaust pipe. They simply go to sleep and never wake up.”