Sea Sick: A Horror Novel (4 page)

Jack wasted no time.  He drove his fist forward as hard as he could while twisting his pelvis in order to get his whole weight behind the blow.  Conner’s nose spread wide and exploded as the punch connected.  Jack felt the fragile bones snap
beneath his knuckles, but Conner behaved as if nothing happened.  He staggered back under the force, but seemed entirely unaffected by
the pain. 

Jack swung his fist again and again and again.

And again...

Jack’s triceps began to tire. His hands were
swollen and matted with gore, but Conner’s shattered face continued to snarl at him.
The lad’s arms continued to reach out and snatch at him.  All around Jack, the room continued to combust with chaos.  Members of security had run in to check out the disturbance, but were quickly being tackled to the ground by groups of crazed passengers.  Jack could not be sure, but he thought he saw men and women, who had themselves been attacked earlier
,
now joining in the frenzy, as if they had somehow been converted to the cause.

It was time to retreat.  Jack could not restrain Conner much longer with punches alone. It seemed the only way to put a stop to the lad for good would be to kill him, and Jack was not prepared to do that. So he ran instead. 

He pushed and barged his way between tables, chairs, and even other passengers.  Many people were trying to escape the room as well as him, but most were now like Conner, bleeding from their eyes and snarling like animals.  Several
eye
bleeders
eyebleeders
reached out for Jack as he dodged by them, but luckily their reactions were slow and their clumsy snatches
too late.

Jack reached the lounge’s exit and bounded through the already-open doors.  Outside
,
people lay scattered throughout the corridor.  Numerous adults lay weeping and moaning
,
,nursing
open wounds that bled unimpeded onto the carpets, while
those who were uninjured sought to help those who were. Then
there were the people that were undeniably dead; their unmoving bodies split open.

What the hell have I just been involved in?
Jack asked himself as he sprinted amongst the wounded.
What the hell has happened to these people?

At the end of the corridor, Jack took a sharp right and barged through the double doors of the
Lido Restaurant
.  The room inside was deserted compared to the busy
High Spirits
lounge, but there was still a small group of would-be diners in the room.  Several staff members were also standing around, looking
 
confused. Some wore kitchen uniforms while others were dressed like waiters;
they all wore mortified expressions on their faces.  They obviously had no clue what was happening outside, but the amount of screaming was enough for them to know it was
something very bad.

“What is going on?” a burly white man in a chef’s uniform asked.

“I have no fucking idea,” Jack admitted.  “But we need to get these doors locked, right now.”

The chef gave no argument and reached for the doors.  He fingered the catch where the two doors met, and then turned back to face Jack.  “Okay, they’re locked.”

“Good,” said Jack, wishing there was a barricade blocking the room rather than a flimsy set of frosted-glass doors.“We need to get help.”

“What help?” asked the chef.

Jack shrugged. He realised he didn’t actually have an answer to the question.  All of the people in the room had gathered, looking at him for answers, but he had none.  “I don’t know,” he told them.“What do ships usually do when they’re in trouble?  Don’t they send out a mayday or something?”

The chef shrugged.  “Isn’t that planes?”

Jack shook his head.  “You don’t know?”

“Hey, I’m just a cook.”

Jack glanced back at the doors behind him and flinched as another
scream rang out nearby.  “Okay, we shove a load of tables up against this door and wait until we know more.”

“More about what?” a female voice asked from the back of the room.

Jack raised his eyebrows.  “Claire?  What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?  Where else would I be?”

“I mean, how come you’re not with Conner?”

Claire moved her way to the front of the group and looked at Jack with confusion.  “He and his mates are having a drink in
High Spirits.
  I was just about to join them, actually, but I fancied a bite to eat first.  What’s going on out there, Jack?”

“Everyone has gone batshit insane.”

“What do you mean?” the chef asked.

Jack flapped his arms in frustration.  “I mean, full-blown,
Night of the Living Dead
, crazy.”

Claire actually laughed then, despite the screaming outside.  “You mean like zom-“

“Look,” said Jack, cutting her off.  “I don’t know what the hell is happening.  I just know that we’re in danger. We need to get those doors secured.  I’m not saying another thing until then.”

The group murmured amongst themselves and then, thankfully, got to work securing the restaurant’s doors, while outside
,
people continued to scream.

***

“Their eyes were bleeding?” Claire asked from the other side of the table.   “That’s crazy.”

“I know it is,” said Jack, sighing at the absurdity of what he was trying to tell these people.  “But I’m telling you that there’s some sort of super-flu on this ship and it’s turning people rabid.  There are people dying all over the place out there.”

“What makes you think people are sick?” Claire asked.  “It could have just been a fight breaking out, or something.”

Jack looked
her in the eye and spoke very slowly.  “There was blood pouring down people’s cheeks like motherfucking tap water. One of them came at me like a man-possessed.  I must have punched the guy in the face a dozen times and he just kept coming.  Can’t say I liked the guy before he went mental, but I’ve never given someone a beating like that and they
still remained standing.”

“You never liked him before?” the chef reiterated.  “So you knew the guy who attacked you?”

Jack wished he could take back his words, but it was too late.  He looked across at Claire and saw the understanding dawn across her face.  She leapt up from her chair.  “Oh my God.  It was Conner!”

Jack leapt up from his own chair, but wasn’t quick enough as Claire raced by him.  She leapt around the buffet carts and headed straight for the barricade of tables and chairs that the group had set up beside the door.  Before anyone could stop her, Claire pushed aside a dining table and caused several more to collapse out of the way.
Jack sprinted across the room, shouting after her with every step. But it was too late.  Claire unlocked the catch and managed to prise open the doors, just enough to get her slender body through.

Jack managed to grab her by the wrist before she disappeared.  He yanked at her arm.  “Don’t go out there, Claire.  It’s dangerous.”

“I have to go,” said Claire.  “You hurt Conner.
I need to see that he’s okay.”

“He’s not,” said Jack.  “He is definitely
not
okay, but that isn’t my doing.”

“He needs me.”

“If you go out there, you’re going to get hurt – maybe worse.”

Claire seemed to hesitate, half in the door, half out.

“Just let her go,” said one of the other passengers from behind Jack.  “We need to get those doors closed again.”

Jack couldn’t do that.  He made eye contact with Claire and pleaded with her.  “Just come back inside and we’ll work all of this out, okay?  Whatever help Conner needs, he won’t get it by you placing yourself in danger.”

Claire seemed to mull things over. Eventually her panicked expression softened slightly into something a little calmer.
Finally, she nodded to him.  “Okay…okay.  Just let go of my wrist and I’ll come-”

Before Claire could complete her sentence she let out an agonised scream.  Jack was about to let go of her wrist but now squeezed harder. He pulled with all his strength, but she was being tugged equally as hard from the other side.
Jack pulled with all his might, crying out under the strain. Just when it seemed like his arms would give up completely,
Claire flew towards him. The door closed shut behind her as
the other people inside locked it again and immediately
started reforming the barricade. 

Jack fell to the floor, Claire trembling in his arms.  She was bleeding. 
Badly
.

“Jesus Christ!” Jack cried out, cradling Claire in his arms.  “Goddamn it.”The girl’s left wrist was torn right open, spewing forth blood like a geyser.
Already her eyes were misting over as shock seized her nervous system.  The wound was deep. It looked like a bite-mark.  Jack shouted at the others in the room to help him – he needed towels to wrap the wound – but they were only interested in securing the doors.  They didn’t know Claire and were obviously not willing to help her if it meant endangering themselves.

Outside, the crazed passengers had
become aware of the group’s
presence inside the
Lido Restaurant
. They were hammering at the doors, trying to get through.  Jack knew it wouldn’t take long for them to bust inside.
He looked down at Claire, wanting to reassure her that all would be okay, but it would have been pointless.  She was dead. 

Jack looked down at her in shock.  He’d never heard of someone bleeding out so quickly.
She must have had a weak heart
.
  It’s the only thing that makes sense.
  He eased her down onto the floor and hunched over her, ready to perform CPR.
He pumped the heels of his palms against her chest rhythmically, trying to keep the oxygen going into her system, trying to jumpstart her heart.  Every now and then he would place his ear against her mouth, trying to see if she was breathing on her own.

“She’s gone,” the chef told him.  “You can’t help her.”

“Shut up,” said Jack, still aware that nobody
had offered him any help when he’d asked for it.  These people were selfish and he didn’t like them.  But he did like Claire, and he wasn’t ready to give up on her.  He scowled up at the Chef.  “Just shut your mouth and give me some space.”

Jack pumped harder at the girl’s chest, close to cracking her sternum, but there was nothing to lose by being rough.  After
performing a dozen compressions he stopped and leant forward, to see if she was breathing.

“Hey, she’s moving,” someone said.  “Look at her hand.”

Jack looked down at Claire’s twitching hand and was confused.  She was certainly moving, but when he leant down by her face there were no breaths whatsoever coming from her nose or mouth.  He moved his ear even closer, right up against her lips, close enough that there was no way he could miss any breathing.

“Shit!”  Pain exploded in the side of Jack’s head. He pulled back from the girl and felt his ear rip clear away from his skull.  He looked down at Claire and saw her chewing it between her blood-soaked teeth.  Everyone around Jack was screaming in terror, just like people had been in the
High Spirits
lounge. He felt like he was going to pass out.

Claire twisted and turned on the floor in front of him, bunching up onto her hands and knees, before straightening up to her full length.  In many ways she looked just the same as before – a pretty young woman – but Jack could already see the wells of bloody tears forming in her eyes.  She came at Jack with her arms outstretched, exactly like her boyfriend had earlier.  Jack was so horrified by what was happening that by the time he even managed to consider an appropriate reaction, Claire’s teeth had already begun to sink deep into his windpipe.

Day 3

Jack awoke with a start.  The fuzziness that filled his head and covered the back of his eyelids was a feeling he had not experienced for some time, yet it was vaguely familiar.  The vibrations throbbing through his skull were akin to a hangover and Jack tried to remember if he’d gone for a drink after boarding the ship.  Strange as it was, though, Jack remembered going to bed almost as soon as he’d been shown to his room. 

Jack sat up in the bed and blinked his eyes.  The room was dark. The light from the cabin’s window was blocked by the curtain dividing the bedroom from the living area.  There was a cube-shaped alarm clock on the bedside table displaying the time in glowing, red numerals.  It read: 1400.

Jesus!  I slept for 24 hours.

Jack got up and moved around the edge of the bed, then headed over to the area near the room’s door. He fumbled for the light switch and
somehow knew almost exactly where it was.  The room lit up and Jack blinked his eyes for a moment as they adjusted.  Once he could focus clearly, he saw that it had been his luggage crashing against the wardrobe door that had woken him.  The ship must have crested a rough wave.  As if to confirm his suspicions, the room tilted again and the luggage bashed against the door.

The urge to stretch took over Jack and he gave in to it, reaching his hands towards the ceiling and cracking his shoulder joints.
Suddenly a sheet of darkness clouded his vision, followed by several flashes of bizarre images.  It made Jack stagger briefly, almost falling to the floor.  He felt tired, disorientated – almost sick.  Perhaps he was coming down with a cold.

I guess I needed sleep more than I realised.  One night of rest and my mind is one big mess.

He yanked aside the room-divider curtain and went over to the cabin’s porthole window.
Beyond the wooden
Promenade Deck
was the vast expanse of the blue-green Mediterranean.  The ship was currently at sea. 

Something hit the window and Jack leapt backwards, startled.  He sighed when it turned out to be just a seagull perching on the ledge of his porthole.  The bird stared in with its beady black eyes and,
bizarrely,
Jack felt like he’d met the creature before.  The seagull had an expression of disapproval on his face and flew away a second later.

Jack let out another yawn and decided to go for a shower.  It was a strange morning so far and he wanted the hot water to help wake him up.  After months of barely sleeping, finally getting some rest had left his mind muddled and confused.  Once he was fully refreshed
he would feel better.  He was sure of it.