Sea Sick: A Horror Novel(8)

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 f*cking 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 motherf*cking 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.”