Sea Sick: A Horror Novel Part 8

Jack didn't recognise the voice coming from behind him, but it was thick with menace. Jack turned around to see a man standing behind him: medium height, average looking, and rather dumb-sounding when he had spoken despite the threatening intent of his words. His accent was American. He sounded like one of those drawling cowboys from a grainy western. And just like a cowboy, he was pointing a revolver at them.

"Who are you?" Tally asked, not seeming to notice the firearm in the man's left hand. "What are you doing down here?"

"I'll ask the questions, lady. Why you snooping around other people's property?"

"I am an employee of the s.h.i.+p. I am allowed to be here."

"Not here, sweetheart. You need to back away and leave this area well alone."

"This is a staff area," Tally told him. "You are the one who must leave."

The man waggled his gun at her. "D'you realise I have a gun pointed at your pretty little face, lady? I'm not kidding around."

"Shoot me," she said bluntly. "Believe me when I tell you I'll get over it."

The man seemed confused by the comment and the revolver lowered slightly. Jack decided to try and take control of the conversation while the man was unsure of himself. "Why do you have a gun, sir?"

The man's smile was crooked. He repeated the word, "Sir? I like the sound of that. Makes me feel all respectable-like." He pointed the gun closer to Jack's face. "But I'm afraid I'm still going to have to insist you both mosey on out of here. This is my cargo and you're trespa.s.sing, so could you kindly f.u.c.k off?"

Jack didn't appreciate being sworn at. He still had questions."What the h.e.l.l are you guarding, anyway?"

"None of your business. Now get!"

Tally started backing away and Jack decided to follow her. They could force the issue and see where it led, but it would probably be better to take a step back and re-strategize. It was clear that the cargo of the s.h.i.+p was being used to transport something that they weren't supposed to know about.

You don't post a short-tempered cowboy to protect your goods unless they're pretty valuable.

"Where are we going now?" Jack asked Tally as they headed back to the elevator.

"We're going to see the Captain," she said. "To let him know that there's an armed man aboard his s.h.i.+p."

Tally used her limited credentials to get herself and Jack inside the s.h.i.+p's Bridge. It was clear by the reaction of the technical staff that a waitress was not welcome in that particular area of the s.h.i.+p, but her insistence and possibly her beauty eventually got her through. After convincing a young radioman that there was an urgent matter that needed to be brought to the Captain's attention, she and Jack were finally led inside a small office. It was set up like a meeting room with an oblong table and leather-backed chairs arranged at its centre. Both Tally and Jack took a seat.

After a short wait, a white-uniformed man entered the room and observed them suspiciously. Each arm of his jacket was emblazoned by four horizontal stripes and an executive loop, while his white peaked cap featured a small emblem of an anchor on a blue oval background, which itself was encircled by a golden wreath of oak leaves. Jack knew from his days in the forces that this man was the s.h.i.+p's commanding officer.

"I am Captain Marangakis," he said, addressing them with the stern tone of a man who had little time to be wasted. "I understand you wish to inform me of something."

"Yes, sir," said Tally respectfully.

The captain remained standing, his back straight, looking down at them. "Well? What is it?"

"There's a man with a gun in the cargo area," said Jack.

The captain nodded very slowly and stared into Jack's eyes curiously. He pulled up a chair and sat down opposite them both. Before he said anything, he removed his cap and placed it carefully down on the desk in front of him. His head was balding. "May I ask what exactly you were doing in my cargo area?"

Jack didn't have an answer that would suffice, so he decided to ignore the question. "Did you hear what we said? There is a man with a gun down there. Does that not concern you?"

"That man is allowed to be there." The captain sounded utterly calm about it all."He is a member of BR s.h.i.+pping's maritime security force. He is here to protect their a.s.sets."

Jack spluttered. "What? You're telling me that you know that this cruise liner, full of children and families, is being used to transport dangerous cargo?"

"Who said it was dangerous?"

Jack sighed. "You don't pay an armed guard to protect something benign."

The captain bored a hole into Jack with his narrow brown eyes. "I a.s.sure you that the cargo in this s.h.i.+p is of no danger to anyone. It is merely BR policy to protect their possessions."

"Okay," said Jack. "Then tell me what is being stored down there?"

"Who are you to demand anything of me? This is my s.h.i.+p, may I remind you."

"I'm a police officer. Sergeant Jack Wardsley."

"Well, Mr Wardsley," the captain seemed to make a point not to use the word Sergeant. "We are currently one-hundred and sixty miles off the coast of France, so I regret to inform you that your authority is null and void aboard my s.h.i.+p and equally so when we land in a country that is not your own. In fact, right now, I find you guilty of trespa.s.sing. What do you think I should do about that?"

"Look," said Jack, trying to calm things down before they turned acrimonious. "I respect your authority as Captain of this s.h.i.+p, but something is very wrong here. People are sick and getting worse speak to your doctor. I have concerns that it may all be a result of what is being held down in the cargo bay. Black Remedy owns this s.h.i.+p, and they are also one of the world's leading investors in medical research. It worries me that they use their own cruise liners as transporters for pharmaceuticals and G.o.d knows what else. It's unethical."

"That may be," the captain surprisingly agreed. "But it is their s.h.i.+p and I am their employee. You, sir, are the only danger here. I'm afraid I must insist that you disembark at Cannes. Until then you will accompany me down to the holding cells. I cannot have you running around my s.h.i.+p spreading your paranoid delusions. You too, young lady." He nodded to Tally. "Your duties aboard this vessel have been grossly neglected."

Jack and Tally both sighed in unison, but neither of them resisted. They could try, all over again, tomorrow.

Day 200.

Jack met Tally by the elevators on C Deck. They discussed what to do and both decided that this time they would forget the subtle approach. It seemed the armed guard in the cargo area had free reign to be there and probably even license to kill if he deemed it necessary, so they would only be wasting time trying the gentle approach.

"So we have a plan then," Tally stated.

Jack nodded. "It should work. Not like we have anything to fear, is it? If we get shot then we'll try something else tomorrow or today, or...whatever, you know what I mean."

They took the elevator back down to the Orlap Deck. When they stepped out onto the walkway, Jack stayed back while Tally headed off towards the cargo area. She made a big show of being there, clomping her feet down on the metal walkway and whistling loudly. Jack crouched down and hugged the walls of the hull, dipping behind various machinery and boxes that littered the metal flooring.

When Tally reached the s.h.i.+pment pallets in the cargo area, she made a B-line for the blue, plastic crates. Immediately she started tugging at one, trying to get it free from the pallet. It was only seconds before the cowboy appeared behind her.

Jack put his half of the plan into action and crept up behind the gunman while Tally distracted him by crying and begging for him not to shoot. As the man tried to rea.s.sure Tally that he didn't intend to shoot her unless she refused to leave, Jack ran up behind him and struck him in the back of the head with his fist. Years of combat training meant that the attack was a guaranteed knockout blow. The man hit the floor face-first and his gun skittered across the metal walkway. The plan had gone flawlessly. Now it was time to get some answers.

The first question Jack asked the cowboy once he'd regained consciousness was what his name was. When the man did not answer, Jack pointed the gun and asked the question again. "Don't make me lose my temper," he growled. "What's your name?"

"Caleb Donovan."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You s.h.i.+tting me? What kind of fruity name is that?" Jack was doing his best bad cop impression, hoping that he could use intimidation whilst Tally used a softer tactic more befitting to her age and beauty.

"My name is Caleb Donovan, and that is all you are getting from me."

Jack slapped the man with the back of his hand, feeling no remorse. Any bruises he caused would only be temporary. He knelt down and looked the man in the eyes. "Look, Caleb. My friend here can happily go and turn your cargo upside down right now, or you can just tell us what's inside. It seems a lot less messy if you go with the latter option."

"Why do you care anyway? Are you here to steal it?"

"Steal what?" Jack asked. "What the h.e.l.l have you got here? Did you make everybody sick?"

"Sick? What are you talking about?"

Jack slapped the man again, but it seemed to have little effect. It seemed like Donovan's square jaw was more than capable of absorbing a blow or two. If anything, Jack's throbbing hand may have been worse off.

"Do not play ignorant," Tally told the man. "Someone has infected the pa.s.sengers with a virus, and surprise surprise, you happen to work for a company that specialises in medical research. Not to mention you're holed up down here on your own, with a gun."

"It's my job. I'm paid to be down here with a gun. Ask the captain of the s.h.i.+p."

"We did," said Jack. "Doesn't mean I trust what you're carrying down here. Why do you need to protect it at all?"

"Why do you think? Pirates, terrorists, opportunistic pa.s.sengers. The world is a dangerous place, pardner. It needs people like me to keep belongings with their rightful owners. Take this situation for example. Seems I was right to bring a gun onboard."

"Pity you couldn't keep a hold of it," said Jack, waving the revolver in front of him. "But we're no thieves. I just want to know what the h.e.l.l is happening onboard this s.h.i.+p."

The man scrunched his face up in confusion. "Why do you keep saying that? What's wrong with the s.h.i.+p? It's cruising along exactly as it's supposed to be."

Jack looked down at Donovan and tried to figure out if the man was lying. There were no obvious tell-tale signs that suggested he was being deceitful no twitches or furtive glances but, with an adequate amount of training, anyone could bend the truth effectively.

"What's in the boxes?" Jack demanded.

Donovan sighed. "Look for yourself. I'd rather that then betray my employers."

Jack nodded. "Fair enough. Tally, go check it out."

Tally nodded and headed over to the pallet of blue, plastic crates. She clawed at the cellophane wrapping and gradually managed to wrench one of the boxes free. It fell to the floor as the weight came loose, too heavy for Tally to handle it.

"s.h.i.+t! Be careful," Donovan told her.

"It's locked," Tally said, thumbing the edges of the crate.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot," said Jack. "Come check the guy's pockets."

Tally edged over to Donovan, obviously wary of the man trying anything. Jack kept the gun sighted at his chest the whole time. After searching several pockets st.i.tched into Donovan's jacket, Tally yanked free a key ring from a breast compartment. Donovan seemed irritated that she had found the keys, but he made no move to resist. She headed back over to the crate with them.

"You sure you wanna do this, pardner?" Donovan asked Jack.

Jack nodded. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you're gonna stir up a s.h.i.+t storm that you don't wanna get caught in."

"I'll take my chances."

"Holy s.h.i.+t!" said Tally. "Jack, look at this."

Jack spun around to look at the contents of the crate and was shocked by what he saw. In that brief moment he was distracted enough for Donovan to leap up, skilfully take the gun from Jack, and fire two bullets right into his chest.

Day 201.

Jack woke up breathless. He'd never been shot before and the pain had been blinding, yet mercifully brief. When Donovan had pulled the trigger, Jack died quickly. Now he'd woken up in his bed, ready to start another version of the same day. It felt like every time he got close to any sort of answers, something bad would happen and send him back to square one. But it was nothing more than a set-back (I have eternity aboard this G.o.dd.a.m.n s.h.i.+p, after all), but it was still frustrating. Plus, Tally had said something a couple days ago that worried him: We may feel like we have eternity, but we do not. Jack wondered if his ability to withstand bullets to the chest would eventually end. Eventually he would stop waking up in bed unharmed. He would just be dead.

Jack had to find out what the deal was with Donovan and his cargo. Why was the s.h.i.+p's hold crammed with blue plastic crates full of American Dollars?

There had been only a brief second to see what Tally had discovered in the crates before Donovan shot him to death, but Jack managed to calculate that if all of the crates on all of the pallets were full of money, then he had been looking at millions of dollars.

Why the h.e.l.l would a European cruise liner be carrying that much US currency? Jack shook his head in dismay. It's a danger to the pa.s.sengers, for one thing.

Jack hadn't seen what became of Tally the previous evening he'd been inconveniently dead but he a.s.sumed Donovan would have dealt with her too. She'd probably woken up screaming in her own bed the same way Jack had in his.

I hope she's alright.

He decided to hang around the pool area and wait for her. It was the most likely place she would go to find him and he wanted to make sure he was there if she needed him.

After performing his morning ritual of saying h.e.l.lo to the seagull at his window, Jack got in the shower. He took longer under the steaming torrent of water than usual, his tired, battered body keeping him there. He ran his soapy hands over his shoulders, kneading his trapezius muscles and the back of his neck. The pressure felt good and he moved his hand down along his shoulders and inwards towards his chest.

Ouch!

He hissed in pain as a dull throb erupted behind his ribs. Jack looked down at his own naked body and was taken aback. Below his left nipple was a patch of discoloured skin a deep bruise spreading out in a ragged oval shape. It was exactly where the bullet had entered.

Jack had a realisation. My injuries aren't completely healing. Does that mean I'll be able to die soon?

The thought filled Jack with both fear and excitement. He wanted to die, to be released from his torment, but he also wanted to live especially now that his investigations were finally getting somewhere.

He quickly dried himself, got out of the shower, and put on some clothes. He wore the same outfit he always did, seeing no reason to change from tradition: red t-s.h.i.+rt and cargo shorts. Then he headed for the Lido Deck and the pool.

Once there, Jack headed for the Sun Deck on the upper balcony. Although he was still eager to discover more about the cash in the hold, he needed five minutes to himself. Discovering that he could now be hurt permanently changed things made it necessary to think things through a little more cautiously. Being mortal brought back all of Jack's human flaws. He was vulnerable again, frightened. The fear of death had rea.s.serted itself and had brought with it a certain amount of caution which Jack had been lacking since the whole thing began.

Claire was upstairs in her usual spot and Jack took the sun lounger beside her, not bothering to remove the green towel this time. He knew by now that no one was coming claim it, anyway.

"I'd move that," said Claire."It's been there all day. Probably pretty funky by now."

Jack smiled at her. "I'm sure it's fine. I'll let you know if I start to itch."

"Okay, but if you get fleas don't pa.s.s them on to me."

"I promise." He leant over and offered her his hand."Jack."

"Claire."

"Good to meet you, Claire. You here with anyone?"

"My boyfriend and his mates."