Dead Calm Page 5

  Brain adjusted the controls next to the steering station, causing the spotlight mounted on the bow of the sailboat to yaw back and forth before shining directly into the dark cavity. Seeing nothing except some unidentifiable shapes in a large open area, Steve readied himself to jump into the relative unknown.

  Armed with an M-4 as his primary weapon, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he chambered a round in the assault rifle. Switching the selector to full automatic fire, he watched as the distance between the bow of their sailboat and the open hatch on the side of the cruise ship dwindled. Directly behind him, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan scanned the decks above them for any Z’s who might try to jump down to land on their craft.

  Originally they had planned to pull directly alongside the liner to gain access to the loading hatch. As they neared the ship though, Heather noticed that there would be a four-foot or more difference between the top of the gunwale on their boat and the bottom of the hatch. Since none of them wanted to board the Dead Calm empty handed as they hauled themselves up into the opening, they changed their plan to enter the liner from the bow of the sailboat which curved upward and would lessen the vertical gap.

  Steve estimated that only a few yards remained between him and the hatch. He also judged that he would only have to jump upward about a foot from the bow. Much better than the four-foot gap if they had boarded from the side, he decided. Hearing Brain throw the engine of the sailboat into reverse to slow their approach, he crouched down. The bowsprit entered through the opening in the side of the ship and its underside started sliding along the bottom of the hatch as they thought it would, but then a problem arose. Seeing that the angled spar would stop their forward momentum before the bow of the sailboat came close enough to step up through the hatch, Steve took four steps back to give himself a running start. Dropping his sunglasses to hang from their string around his neck, he bolted forward and launched himself across the water. Landing on his feet inside the Calm of the Seas, he scanned the immediate area around him with his rifle at the ready, tracking back and forth with it as he searched for any threat.

  After a moment of intense scrutiny, he saw that nothing was going to show itself or leap out at him so he backed up to the hatch and removed his right hand from the fore grip of his rifle. Without turning or diverting his attention from the area in front of him, he waved for the rest of the boarding crew to join him.

  One by one, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan jumped through the hatch. Susan's feet had barely hit the deck before they heard the sound of the sailboat's motor rev as Brain backed rapidly away. Facing into the ship in an arc, the foursome split into two groups and moved to either side of the hatch so they didn't silhouette themselves against the sunlight streaming through it. They took a minute to survey their surroundings and let their eyes adjust to the dim interior of the Dead Calm.

  Heather was the first to speak. In a low voice, she said, “There are lights on.”

  “Emergency lights,” Tick-Tock pointed out in an equally quiet voice.

  “Battery?” Heather asked.

  Not taking his eyes away from the area in front of him, Steve slowly crouched down and placed his hand flat on the metal deck as Brain had instructed him to. Feeling a slight vibration, he said, “Generator or some other equipment's running somewhere. I can feel it. And the floor's dry, so that hatch couldn't have been open very long.”

  They all considered this as they continued to look around the storage area. It had been months since the HWNW virus had swept across the world, so there was no way that something mechanical could have run this long without refueling or maintenance. Additionally, if the hatch had been open all that time, the floor should have been wet from water coming in.

  “Someone's on board,” Susan whispered nervously. Although she had no reservations about shooting one of the undead in the brain, living, breathing human beings were a different matter.

  “Doesn't make a difference,” Tick-Tock said. “We’re here to get what we need. As long as whoever’s here stays out of the way there won't be any problems.”Looking at a row of eight jet skis in front of him and the numerous kayaks stored on racks to his left, he continued, “Water craft storage.”

  “Brain called that one right,” Susan said.

  A faint odor came to Steve and he said, “I smell gas.”

  “That was me,” Heather said. “Sorry about that, but with all those MRE's I’ve been eating it just happens.”

  All four of them laughed at the ridiculous bathroom humor, but the dumb joke had done as Heather had planned and relaxed the tension a little. She knew it wasn't good for them to go into a situation like this so wired up that they started shooting at shadows.

  “We clear this room first and then move on,” Steve ordered. “Susan, Tick-Tock, check out the kayaks while Heather and I look behind the Sea-Doos. See if you can find where the gas smell is coming from.”

  Heather almost quipped; it’s coming from my ass, but decided against it. One dumb joke was enough.

  After a short search, they found the storage area clear of the living and the dead, so Tick-Tock and Steve ventured down a short hall they discovered behind the kayaks. The passage ended in a room stacked with a dozen, two wheeled gas caddies.

  Inside the compartment to the right was a gas pump. When Tick-Tock tried to activate the equipment though, only a trickle of fuel came out of the nozzle.

  “No power,” Steve pointed out.

  Indicating the lights, Tick-Tock replied, “There’s power somewhere. When Brain gets on board we'll get him to figure out how to reroute it.”

  Reminded at hearing Brain’s name, Steve unclipped the radio from his belt and called the tech while moving back into the main storage room. After telling him what they had found so far and promising to keep him posted, he moved to the hatch leading into the next compartment and said to the others, “Let's move out. We do it just like we planned.”

  After shouldering their weapons and setting up in a wide arc facing the door, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan called out in turn that they were ready.

  The heavy steel fire door opened effortlessly when Steve pushed down on the latch securing it. After pulling the portal open a few feet, he quickly backed out of the possible line of fire in case anything unfriendly came out. The area beyond was dark, and for just a second Steve's imagination ran away from him. He was sure there was about to be a rush of the dead pushing through the opening with their hands outstretched. None appeared.

  In quick succession, the group turned on the flashlights they had earlier taped to the fore grips of their weapons. Heather carried the CAR-15 she had brought with her to the bank building while the rest toted M-4's salvaged from the MRAP. Each member of the boarding party also carried a pistol and spare magazines for their weapons.

  The beams of light that shot into the dark revealed a wide hallway with double doors set in its far wall directly across from them. Cautiously sticking his head inside the opening, Steve saw that the hall ended a few feet to his right and extended off to his left for a dozen yards before ending at another set of double doors. The scent of old and new cooked food reached his nostrils, giving him further proof that the living had recently inhabited the Dead Calm.

  Stepping into the hall, he nodded to his left and said, “Watch the kitchen,” before turning his attention to the doors directly in front of him.

  Nudging one with the toe of his boot, it swung open at his touch. Pushing it further so he could look into the next compartment, Steve saw that the area was illuminated by the same low-level lighting they had encountered in the watercraft storage area. In this more cavernous space though, the dim light left shadows everywhere.

  Built on three tiers, the formal dining room was as wide as the ship and nearly as deep. Tables draped with white linen tablecloths were clustered on every available bit of floor space and created hundreds of hiding places. Steve was surprised to see that they were set with dinnerware, cups and glasses, all of which was covere
d with a thin layer of dust.

  With just a quick glance, he counted four bars and eight semi-enclosed serving stations for the staff. More hiding spots, he noted. Mirrors on the walls gave an impression of immense size, and multiple chandeliers reflected back to fool the eye as they gave a disco ball effect to the small amount of illumination thrown off by the emergency lights.

  This'll be a nightmare to clear, he thought to himself. Shining his flashlight across the room, he noticed that the two sets of double fire doors, one on the port side, and one on the starboard that led into what he assumed were the next compartments, were shut. This gave him an idea. Ducking back into the hallway, he found Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan covering the doors that led into the kitchen.

  “Here’s what’s up,” he told them. “The formal dining room is fucking huge, and we could waste hours in there trying to clear it. And I don't even want to think about what a mess the kitchen’s going to be when we check it out. The good news is that the doors leading into the next section beyond the dining room are metal, so they should be pretty sound proof. What we do is clear the kitchen first by standing at the doors and making noise to see what we can attract. One person stays here and keeps an eye on the dining room to make sure nothing comes up behind us and cuts us off. Once we're done with the kitchen, we do the same thing in the dining room. Almost like how we cleared the bank building. Draw them out and waste them if they show themselves.”

  Realizing it was the best way to clear the cluttered areas, they put the plan into effect.

  With Susan watching the dining room for any signs of the living or the dead, Steve and Heather covered Tick-Tock in the kitchen as he banged pots and pans and smashed a dozen plates by flinging them like Frisbees against the walls. He added to this by calling out as loud as he could, “Here zombie, zombie, zombie” and “All-e-all-e-in-come-free.” Echoing off the metal walls and floor, the noise was enough to wake the dead, but none appeared.

  After ten minutes of this, the three of them rejoined Susan and moved into the dining room. Here the acoustics, muted by the heavy carpet, tablecloths and wall tapestries, were not as good and they found they had to yell louder. After Steve upended a few tables and sent them crashing into their neighbors, they decided that the noise was enough that if any of the dead were around, they would have come out. Tick-Tock also pointed out that any humans hiding in ambush would have to be very disciplined not to have shown themselves. Satisfied they were alone, but still not letting down their guard, the foursome crossed the dining room without incident.

  Standing in front of one of the fire doors on the starboard side of the ship, Steve placed his hand on its push bar and slowly, soundlessly eased it inward until he heard a click. Gripping his M-4 tightly in his right hand, he used his left to open the door just enough to look through. He starred so intently, and for so long, that Tick-Tock finally asked with anticipation, “What is it, what do you see?”

  Without missing a beat, Steve replied, “It's a rock climbing wall.”

  Susan's hand flew to her mouth to stifle the laughter that bubbled up.

  As Steve pushed the door open to give him a better view, the others were able to get a look. An almost perceptible thrill went through them at what lay ahead.

  Without turning, Steve said, “Tick-Tock, grab a couple of chairs so we can prop these doors open. I don't want them closing and locking behind us.” When he returned, Steve said, “We go through one at a time and spread out. There's plenty of open space just past the door, but there's also a lot of area to cover beyond that. Everyone take a good look before we move.”

  When they had each taken their turn, Heather held the door open while Steve went through. After checking the blind spot behind the door, he moved forward twenty paces and stopped. Rifle at the ready, he tried to take in as much as possible of the overwhelming sights around him.

  Daylight, streaming in from skylights multiple stories above, lit the front of the shops, clubs and restaurants that stretched away from him in a neat row on the right side of the ship. The stores all appeared to have their glass panel and metal security doors shut and locked, but Steve made a mental note to check them anyway. They didn't want someone or something coming up behind them after they passed by.

  Perpendicular to his left sat a row of five elevators situated in their own hall with three glass elevators facing into the Centrum on the opposite side of their common wall. Beyond this, he could see more shops lining the port side of the ship. Although he was too far back from the opening to look straight up, Steve assumed that the entire roof of the Centrum had to be glass, due to the amount of light coming in.

  Despite his vertical sight line being limited by the second floor walkway above him, he could look across the Centrum and see the top half of the restaurants lining the port side on the next deck above. Even from the small bit he could see, he was amazed at the detail.

  There was a reproduction Italian sidewalk cafe right next to a Japanese sushi bar, both done up in exquisite detail. Turning his head to look back down the length of the deck, he could see the middle area was filled with kiosks, fountains and what appeared to be a miniature golf course. He noticed that, while grand in stature, the Centrum had a slightly eerie, unused look and feel to it. With everything intact, but with all of the storefronts closed, the fountains dry and chairs set around tables as if waiting for someone to sit down, it appeared the people had suddenly vanished. His mind wandered to thoughts of the Bermuda triangle and ships like the Mary Celeste that were found abandoned but completely intact, right down to the tables set for diner. The dining room they just passed through came to mind, and he felt a shiver run up his spine.

  Steve jumped slightly when he heard a sharp intake of breath next to him but realized it was Heather when she said, “Oh my God, I've never seen anything like this in my life.” Turning, he saw her standing a few feet away with mouth slightly agape as she tried to take in their posh surroundings.

  Susan came up on Steve's left, and even though she had been on cruises before, she seemed awe struck by the sights of the Centrum. He could almost feel the excitement coming off her in waves.

  Only Tick-Tock seemed less than impressed. He took in the area at a glance and then assumed the posture of a man waiting for his wife in a shoe store. While he appeared bored, Steve noticed that the former Marine’s eyes never stopped moving as he searched for threats.

  After giving everyone a chance to adjust to their surroundings, Steve asked Tick-Tock, “How do you want to do this?”

  Without hesitation, he answered, “Diamond formation, you're on point, Heather's left handed so she's on the right. I'm on the left and Susan brings up the rear.” Turning slightly toward Susan, he added, “You've got to walk backwards most of the time to cover our rear. You up for that?”

  “No problem,” she answered.

  Nodding, Tick-Tock continued, “Everyone keep about a ten foot interval, and keep your eyes on the floors above us. If we stick close to the starboard row of shops, we should minimize our exposure from up top. Remember that if anyone fires on us to move toward them and unload with everything you’ve got. It's the only way to break up an ambush.”

  Steve put in his own thoughts. “Heather, since you'll be closest to the shops, make sure they're locked.”

  She nodded and added, “Like Tick-Tock said, we need to be careful so we don't bunch up. Right now, I'm not as worried about Z's as I am about getting shot.”

  “Words to live by,” Susan said.

  Grateful for Heather's experience in law enforcement, Tick-Jock's in the Marines and his own from his time in the Army, Steve stepped forward as the others fell into position behind him. Cautiously walking forward, they saw that the emergency lights were on in all the shops and couldn't help but notice what was displayed in the glass storefronts. As they moved further into the Centrum without seeing anyone, living or dead, their confidence grew and they began to comment on what they saw.

  “Duty free booze shop,” Tic
k-Tock pointed out. “Maybe on the way back we can pick up something to celebrate with.”

  Heather tried the door, which only rattled in its casing, and said, “It's locked.”

  Hefting his M-4, Tick-Tock replied, “That's okay, I brought my key.”

  “Then you can open the door to the bath and body shop for me,” Susan said.

  “Or how about this one,” Steve said as he pointed with his rifle at a shop with its facade done up in a nautical theme. “The Ship's Store.”

  Tacky tourist souvenirs cluttered its display racks, but lined up by the cash register were shelves full of bottled water, sodas, candy and snack foods.

  “I'd kill for a bag of those Nacho Cheese Doritos,” Susan said wistfully.

  Tick-Tock brought the group back into focus by saying, “You might have to.”

  Silent again, they continued to move across the two hundred foot length of the Centrum. After passing numerous shops containing a variety of items from bedspreads to Waterford crystal, the opening to the upper floors ended at an ornate, curved, double staircase that Steve was almost tempted to use to explore the decks above. Looking in front of him though, he saw that the Centrum also ended here, and a long, angled registration desk of some type began that would funnel them to another set of the now familiar metal fire doors. This would be their turning around point, he decided. They had gone far enough on their first expedition and had come across the essentials, and some extravagances, they needed and wanted. They could grab a few things from the shops on their way back and explore the kitchen further to see if the coolers were still working. Steve suspected they were, since he hadn't smelled anything rotten when they were in there. But even if the food had turned, and the thick walls of the coolers had contained the smell, they could still raid the dry storage area.

  He was even daydreaming about kicking back on the sailboat with a Bacardi and diet Coke, maybe with ice, when a familiar stink brought him to an abrupt halt.