Sea Sick: A Horror Novel(34)



“Okay,” Jack said, picking the bottle up off the floor. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get off this godforsaken ship?”

Donovan smiled at him. “Go get a flu shot.”

***

“So how long have you worked for Black Remedy?”

“Not long.” Donovan’s voice was approaching a full-on slur now. “I was a promis-promis…promising young boxer once, if you can believe it. I got hurt pretty bad, though, before I ever got the chance to…belch!...to really make it. I could have maybe made a comeback, but my girl – my family – was against it. In the end I just did what made them happy.” Donovan shook his head and sighed. “Then my girl up and leaves me a year later anyway and both my parents pass on within the same decade. If it wasn’t for shit luck I’d have no luck at all.” He took another swig on the bourbon. “Anyway, started doing private security when I hit twenty-five-or-so and been doing it ever since. Black Remedy is just the latest in a long line. The pay is good, but not as good as if I’d been a professional fighter. Don’t that just suck?”

“Yeah, that sucks,” Jack admitted. “Still, least you were good at something. My whole life has been the epitome of average. Average kid, average teenager, average police officer, and not much else.”

Donovan looked at Jack bleary eyed. “You…you’re a cop, man. That’s not average. That’s honourable. You p-protect people.”

Jack shook his head which unsettled his vision for a moment. His view tilted to and fro before finally centring again. “That’s American cops you’re talking about. British cops spend most of their time dealing with drunks and bad drivers. They never let us do anything to make a difference. Goddamn justice system protects the criminals more than it does the public. It’s become cool to be a thug in the UK.”

“Then why…why don’t you…why don’t you do something about it?”

Jack laughed. “You think it’s that easy? I’m just a sergeant. No one listens to me. Anyway, I did do something, once.”

Donovan leant forward. “Oh really? What did you do?”

“I killed a bunch of drug-dealing scumbags, that’s what. Took ‘em out while they were lying around stoned. One of them even started giggling while I slit his throat. Never seen anything like that in my life – not even in the army. Drugs make people so screwed up that they laugh at their own murders.”

“Hell, man, that’s stone cold. You just rolled up and killed them all? What the hell got into you?”

“My partner was shot to death a year before. She was trying to help a family against a bunch of yobs in the area. Kid called Frankie Walker shot her in a goddamn hospital while she was checking on one of his victims. When I got there she was lying up against the wall in a pool of blood. Her face had gone all grey, like it was made out of ash or something. She was a beautiful person and Frankie just snuffed her out like a cigarette. The only positive out of the whole thing was that he was dead on the scene too when I got there – shot by his own brother no less – but his gang was still on the streets, intimidating people and acting like they owned the place. I dealt with it.”

Donovan didn’t say anything. He just looked at Jack and shook his head sympathetically. It was the first time Jack had spoken about his actions outside of the force. To speak about such things freely would have sent him to prison. His superiors had found out what had happened from a not-yet-completely-dead witness at the scene, but they covered it up. Most of his colleagues who knew were just glad that a prolific street gang had been taken out of action. There was no sympathy for the victims. But the men and women Jack used to consider his friends were suddenly very afraid of him. He had become isolated and alone, and then, later, a loose-cannon that had nobody to remind him of the rules. The decision to protect Jack by covering up the crime – and keep the damning truth from the already police-hating public – had proved to be a mistake. Jack had only gone off the rails further and had become untouchable by the secret that he and his superiors kept.

“You must have loved her a lot,” said Donovan. “A man doesn’t feel that much rage unless he’s failed to protect the woman he loves.”

Jack nodded. The cowboy was astute. “We’d been together a while, but had been hiding it – had to really. We were saving enough money to get a house and then Laura was going to quit the force to have a child with me. I lost everything.”

“And someone had to pay?”

Jack nodded. “I don’t regret it.”

“Well, I don’t blame you, pardner. Seems that the world gets worse and worse each day. Bout time some good folks started fighting back. Still, how the hell did you get away with such a thing?”


Jack shrugged and sighed. “I didn’t. I got suspended from the force – under the guise of bereavement – having my partner killed and all – and they stuck me in therapy for six months. I started drinking far too much and stopped looking after myself in any way that a human being should. Eventually, after a couple years of watching me self-destruct they authorised the budget to send me on this cruise to try and relax and break out of the emotional tailspin I was in. I get the impression that it’s their final gesture of kindness before they finally discharge me. Tell you the truth, if things ever go back to normal, that’s just what I want. I can’t do that job anymore. I’ve seen how little justice there is in the world and I can’t be a part of it any longer.”

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