Sea Sick: A Horror Novel(51)
“Okay,” said Jack, panting and out of breath. “Let’s barricade ourselves back in the office. We only have to wait until midnight.”
***
The infected were trying their best to get in, but with the sofa-cube pushed in front of the office door and several bar tables placed on the other side as an obstacle course, Jack and Joma were relatively safe. Safe enough that Jack had relaxed sufficiently to polish off almost a quarter bottle of whisky. The fuzzy feeling in the bottom of his guts was pleasant and almost made him forget the horror on the other side of the door. The bite on his neck had stopped bleeding and was now just tacky and moist. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
“You need to end this,” said Joma, flinching as something unseen was tipped over in the lounge. “Time is running out.”
“What do you mean?” Jack took another swig of liquor. “You still haven’t told me what the hell it is I’m supposed to do. Is it still against the rules now that your cover is blown?”
“No,” said Joma. “You found me, which makes anything I say to you a consequence of your actions, not mine. It is now within the rules that I tell you what you need to know.”
“So tell me already!” Jack almost shouted it. “I’m tired, Joma. So goddamn tired of this shit.”
Joma rubbed at his face and seemed to have yet more wrinkles. “This virus…. It’s not just a danger to the passengers on this ship. It’s going to wipe out the entire world.”
“You’re shitting me?” Jack gulped the whisky down to halfway and let out a long sigh. “And you know this how?”
“I saw it, Jack. People like me, those that can see the pathways, have dreams. These dreams show us glimpses of the future – especially tragic events. We see death on a grand scale. A person’s death causes a small pulse in the fabric of existence, but when many people die at once it creates a ripple that travels in all directions – including backwards. When one of these ripples travels backwards it can reach some people through their dreams. I dreamt of this ship, Jack. I dreamt of the virus. I saw the end.”
“What, so this virus turns into…what? An epidemic?”
“More like a global pandemic. It will wipe the earth clean of life in less than a year. It will infect a dozen different species, as well as humans, and the world will fall apart. The infected will attack the healthy. It will be hell on earth.”
“But…how does it happen?”
“The ship will dock in Cannes and the virus will immediately spread throughout Europe and into Asia, reaching farther afield through national airports and contaminated food shipments. Once this ship hits the mainland it becomes unstoppable.”
“I don’t get it. Who would want to unleash something like this?”
Joma shrugged. “I don’t know, Jack. When I had the dream, I caught short flashes of the man responsible, but for some reason I kept getting images of a…of a doll’s face, or something. It was strange. Anyway, I doubt they expected the virus to exterminate mankind. It was probably just a terrorist act supposed to cause an international incident akin to 9/11. I don’t think they understood the immensity of what they were in possession of. All I know for sure is that if you do not stop this virus from reaching the shores of France, everyone is doomed.”
Jack felt faint. The throbbing of his neck wound had progressed to a full-on drumbeat pounding in his ears. “So what do I do? How do I stop it?”
Joma seemed to deflate. “I don’t know. I just knew the danger was coming and acted as fast as I could to stop tomorrow arriving until you could find a solution.”
Jack took another swig of whisky and felt himself getting a little dizzy. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the surrealism of the conversation. “How did you stop tomorrow coming? Tally said that you’re a pathwalker and that you can see alternate realities or something, but how did you mess with time itself?”
“By giving up the essence of my soul.”
Jack found himself laughing at the drama of the statement, but then he thought about what it meant. “What do you mean? Is that why you’re older than you were?”
“I’m dying Jack. Every time the day resets and I hold back tomorrow, I age. Only eight or nine days at a time, but eventually I’ll run out of life and then the spell will break with my death. You have to put a stop to this before it puts a stop to me. There is a candle in my room that gets smaller every day. It is how I fused my essence into the flow of time and gave myself the power to manipulate it.”
Jack shook his head and looked at Joma. The man was already looking haggard and drawn. He hated to think how he would look in another week or two. “So, to save the world you had to give up your life?”
“It’s my purpose, Jack. Many of my ancestors have done the same. Global catastrophe is something that threatens us more often than you would think, and it always starts with a small-minded group of people with a big idea. I was born knowing that I may have to die before my time. That is the burden people like me carry – it is both our honour and our burden. Don’t make my premature ending be in vain, Jack. You must find a way to stop this. You have to-”
“Joma!” Jack staggered from the cube sofa and on to his knees. There was a burning in his stomach that was in contrast to the numbness everywhere else. He stared up at Joma and saw the man through a red-hazed filter. “Joma,” he repeated. “The bite wound on my neck…I’m changing. You have to…”