Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (10 page)

“We have nowhere to go. I will not abandon this ship. Let her sink.”

Ren
and Nora stared at each other, eyes sharp and
fearful despite the alcohol.
Vinny’s
mouth worked
soundlessly, and he looked like he might throw up again.

“We have to do some— ” Nora began.

“You wish to do something?” Captain
Martinelli
said. “It’s taking too long for you, is it? I agree. I shall open the
floodgates.”

He strode to a computer console and began tapping.

“Sir!”
Ren
started up from her chair. “You
can’t do that! The water—”

“The water? The sea? The infernal goddamn ocean can take us. We shall
sink like the
Arizona
, like the
Lusitania
, like the
Titanic
herself!”

“We’re not just going to give up and die!” Nora said.

“The world is dead already,” Captain
Martinelli
said, hammering at the computer like a piano.

Judith turned to
Ren
. “Is he really going
to—?”

“Yes.”

“He’s raving!” Nora said.

Ren
curled her fingers around the neck of the mostly
empty vodka bottle.

“We have to do something,” she said.

Nora joined her, a little unsteady on her feet.
Vinny
shrunk back from them, clapping a hand over his mouth. Judith watched, paralyzed,
as
Ren
and Nora approached the captain, silhouetted
against the windows. He mumbled about shipwrecks and floodgates and doom.

All was still for one razor moment.

Then
Ren
lifted the bottle and brought it
down on the back of the captain’s skull. The crack was worse than thunder.

Captain
Martinelli
crumpled like paper. Nora
caught him and guided him to the floor, while
Ren
took over the computer.

Manny opened his eyes. He took one fleeting look at the captain. Then
his jaw set into a firm line, and he walked over to Judith—not to
Ren
or to Nora
;
to her.

“What do we do?” he said.

Judith shook herself. No point in gaping. It was done.

“We need to fix the leak,” she said. “And then we need to stop wasting fuel.
Ren
? Nora? Can you shut off all operations that
require fuel temporarily?
Even the engines.
We need to
figure out exactly where we are before we make any decisions about where to go.
And keep the captain here. I’m going to find Simon. Manny, come with me.”

Simon

Simon
had barely closed his eyes when Judith pounded on his cabin door. He stumbled
over to it, still groggy.

“Simon, the captain has lost it!” Judith stood in the corridor with
Manny the porter, bouncing anxiously on her toes. “The ship is sinking. We have
to make some decisions. You need to come to the bridge!”

“Calm down, Judith,” Simon said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“We can’t dock in Hawaii because of the storm,” Judith said, “and we’re
running out of fuel.”

Simon glanced at Esther sleeping beneath the periwinkle blanket. She
didn’t stir. He stepped into the corridor with Judith and Manny and closed the
flimsy door behind him.

“What’s wrong with the captain?” he asked.

“He wants to let the ship sink,” Judith said.

“There is a leak in the hull, Mr. Simon, sir,” said Manny. “She is
sinking.”

“Are you sure?” Simon asked, following them along the corridor. The
emergency lights flickered above them.

“I think something is hitting the ship,” Manny said. “Maybe another
ship.”

“Okay. Manny, can you find Reggie and let him know?”

“The captain is saying—”

“We’ll take care of the captain,” Simon said.

“Yes, sir.”

Manny jogged to the service stairwell at the end of the corridor and
started down it. Simon and Judith headed for the bridge.

Ren
, Nora, and
Vinny
were
gathered around the captain when Simon and Judith arrived. He slumped on the
floor against a computer console, eyes closed. A thin trickle of blood made a
track down the side of his face.

“What’s going on in here?” Simon said.

Judith pranced beside him like a nervous racehorse.

“He tried to open the flood doors,” said
Ren
—a
navigator, if Simon remembered correctly. “The ones I engaged to contain the
leak.”

“He said the whole world is dead,” Nora said.

“I hit him on the head with a vodka bottle.”
Ren
looked like she was in physical pain. Nora put a hand on her shoulder and
squeezed it gently.

“Is he alive?” Simon asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Simon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Let’s try to keep the violence to a minimum. That’s the last thing the world
needs right now.”
Ren
started to speak, but Simon
held up a hand. “I understand you did what you had to. Now, what’s going on
with Hawaii? Can we disembark?”

Vinny
, a flabby middle-aged man with nervous hands,
quickly reported what he’d heard on the radio from another ship,
who
’d heard it from someone holed up in a villa on a
mountainside on Oahu. The Hawaiian Islands had endured a devastating storm
surge. The ports were clogged with debris and mud. The people left behind by
the torrent were only starting to pick through the wreckage. They weren’t in
any condition to help refugees.

“The navy was supposed to be gathering there,” Judith said quietly.

“I’m sure some of them are still out there,” Simon said. “Didn’t they
see the storm coming and head out to sea? I understand that’s safer than being
in port during a big storm.”

“It is safer,”
Vinny
said, “but they didn’t
see this one coming. We’ve become too reliant on satellite imaging to predict
the weather, but the satellite signals haven’t been getting through properly
since the eruption. I’ve basically been living in the broadcast tower because
it seems to be the only way to get any news, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“What about the Internet?” Simon looked to Nora. She seemed a bit
unsteady on her feet.

“Getting spottier,” she said. “The major US networks are down. I can
barely get the BBC to load because of the bandwidth required. There must be a
server running somewhere, though, because there’s a rudimentary news bulletin
site up. It’s preaching doom and gloom mostly.”

It seemed incomprehensible that they could be so cut off from the
global news. In the wake of the eruption, Simon would have expected
twenty-four-hour coverage of the disaster. Instead, deafening silence came from
the continents.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked.

“Best as I can figure,”
Ren
said, “we’ve
bypassed Hawaii and been thrown pretty far west. We may be able to wait a few
days and then sail back once they’ve cleared the ports and gotten their relief
efforts going. Maybe they can send someone to help us.”

“Okay. Providing we can fix the leak, that sounds reasonable. How far
could we go on the fuel we have left?”

“I don’t know yet,”
Ren
said. “That’ll take
some calculations. We cut the engines to conserve fuel until we have a new
heading. Judith’s idea.”

Simon nodded. He was exhausted. It was hard to think clearly in this
state. “That was the right move,” he said. “We should have enough food to last
us a bit longer. Maybe some of the navy ships that were on their way to Pearl
will be able to help us.
Vinny
, can you stay on the
radio? I’ll find someone to help you out if you need it.”

Vinny
saluted.

“Good. Let’s all get a bit of rest and then call a meeting to discuss
our next course of action. We should let everyone know we may need to hang on
for a few more days before landing in Hawaii.”

“What should we do about the captain?” Nora asked. He hadn’t moved from
where he had slumped against the computer console.

“We’d better restrain him somehow,” Simon said, “if he’s going to cause
problems.

“We can barricade him in his quarters until things calm down,”
Vinny
suggested.

Simon felt like he was in a small boat that had just tipped over the
crest of a colossal wave. He didn’t know what he was doing. They needed the
captain, but not if he was in this state.

“Okay, yes,” he said finally. “Lock him up for now and make sure he has
plenty of food and water.” He hoped he was making the right choice.

“We just started a mutiny, didn’t we?” Nora said.

Ren
blanched at the word. Simon looked down at his
hands

“You had no choice,” he said. “We’ll do whatever it takes to get
through this.”

Chapter 10—The
Meeting

Judith

After a few hours
of sleep, the
Catalina
survivors gathered in the Pearl
Theater.
Vinny
had showed them how to use the
intercom system so they could call everyone together at once. A group of
teenagers led by Rosa Cordova’s daughter Gracie gathered all of the children in
the bowling alley, while the remaining adults squeezed into the theater to
discuss the situation.

The stage was nearly two decks tall and featured heavy velvet curtains
in shades of purple and gold. A garish lighting fixture shaped like an octopus
hung from the center of the auditorium. The theater wasn’t quite big enough to
seat everyone, but it was more conducive to conversation than the plaza.

Judith stood at the edge of the stage beside one of the velvet curtains
and watched the survivors trickle
in,
somewhat the
worse for wear after the storm. They looked tired and rattled. Some people had
given up on showering in the days since the disaster. They stared around,
glassy-eyed. Others had dressed up like they were going to see a show on the
cruise’s formal night. The muted tap of high heels echoed on the theater steps.

The crew assembled too. Some had already made subtle changes to their
uniforms, leaving buttons undone and forgoing their neckerchiefs. The rules no
longer applied.

The most bedraggled among them were those who had fled from San Diego.
Like Judith, they had now been wearing the same clothes (their own and a miscellaneous
assortment borrowed from the shops) for four days. She had never wanted a nice
stiff pair of freshly washed jeans more. At least she had her running shoes,
but they were still damp after being soaked during the storm.

When every theater seat had been filled and more people crowded outside
the double doors, Simon stepped to the center of the stage. He was supposed to
take a nap before this meeting, but he still looked very tired. Briefly, he
explained how the storm had devastated Hawaii and no one on the islands could
help them right away. They had been driven to the west, far out in the Pacific
Ocean and further away from Hawaii and the mainland. They had to be careful
about making any movements lest they use up their fuel and exhaust their
options.

Simon spoke patiently, and Judith could see the teacher in him. He told
everyone they had decided to float for a few days to conserve power until
relief efforts were underway in Hawaii and someone was able to send help.
Judith thought he sounded perfectly reasonable, describing precisely why this
was the best course of action for all.

Judith had always imagined her first boss would be a bit like Simon: a
wise mentor
;
someone to help her prepare for her
career.
Someone who recognized her potential.
It had
always been important for her to get recognition and respect. Even here she was
desperate for it. All her other plans were spinning out of reach, but at least
she had Simon’s lead to follow. She wanted to show him how capable she was.

She thought the others must admire Simon as much as she did, but as
soon as he closed his mouth, the problems began.

“Who died and made you king?” said Rosa Cordova.

“I can’t stand being on this ship another day,” shouted a man in the
front row. “We need to get to land!”

“My whole family is crammed into a two-hundred-square-foot cabin,”
someone else called.

“We can’t take it anymore!”

“We have family all over the US. We have to find out what happened to
them.”

“Where’s the captain?”

“Captain
Martinelli
is incapacitated at the
moment,” Simon said. “I’m just filling in.”

He tactfully left out the part about
Ren
hitting him over the head with a bottle. But this only made the people more
agitated. Some stood up from their seats to shout their opinions.

“Why do you get to decide?”

“We almost died last night.”

“Shouldn’t we vote?”

“I want my feet back on dry land.”

Simon looked surprised at the onslaught. “I thought it would be
best—”

“We should go to Hawaii.”

“My wife is too seasick to leave her room.”

“We’ve been here too long already.”

“When’s the captain coming back?”

“Let’s sail back to California!”

“Why does it matter? The world is already ending.”

The words assaulted Simon from all sides. The pressure had been
building for days, and now it was boiling over. Judith clenched her fists. She
wanted Simon to shout at the people, to make them see how foolish they were
being. Simon’s decision to wait for a few days was obviously best for everyone.

But Simon didn’t yell. He simply listened as the frenzy worked itself
out around him. He nodded at some of the speakers to acknowledge their comments
but didn’t say anything.

Judith tapped her foot, growing antsy.
This is ridiculous. These people should listen.
Simon is clearly right, and getting petulant
about it won’t change that.

But still Simon remained silent, his face giving nothing away.

Answer them! Tell them this
is how it’s going to be. Why isn’t he saying anything?

Slowly the shouts began to fade. Simon stood still, waiting at the
center of the stage. He didn’t react to the provocations, and a few people began
to look sheepish. The crowd quieted, and eventually even the angriest voices
ceased completely.

Judith’s attention stayed rooted to Simon. The last echoes disappeared,
but still he waited.

Finally, after a full minute of silence, Simon spoke again.

“You’re right,” he said.

The people leaned forward so they could hear him better.

“We’re all scared. We’re all angry. Things have spun out of our control
so quickly. I don’t have any right to make decisions for you. We should all
have an equal say in how things are done here. For the moment I suggest we
regroup and sort out our communication problem without wasting fuel. I think it
would be unwise to sail back to Hawaii until we know they can help us, because
if they can’t, we’ll be out of luck. Does anyone have other suggestions they’d
like to offer? Would you kindly form a line in each aisle and come to the stage
so everyone can hear you?”

Simon’s quiet voice and sane questions worked wonders on the crowd.
People began to stand and line up in the aisles. Simon joined Judith by the
curtain. Sweat ran from beneath his curly hair despite the cold. He must not be
as calm as he seemed. He nodded at Judith,
then
kept
his attention on the people lining up to take the stage. They moved in an
orderly fashion, waiting for their turns with only the occasional tapping foot
or impatient sigh.

One by one the survivors offered opinions and expressed their
frustrations. Most, it turned out, agreed that Simon was right and they needed
more information before choosing a new course. A sizable minority wanted to
return to California, but others in the crowd swiftly disputed this view. They
all saw what had happened to California. Returning was not a viable option, at
least for now.

Judith thought they should vote to confirm their decision. Simon’s plan
had to have majority support by now. She suggested as much to him.

“Not yet,” he said. “Sometimes voting can be divisive. Give them some
more time.”

Judith frowned, but she waited to see what he meant.

The conversation turned subtly toward more productive suggestions,
mostly based around the assumption that they would be staying on the ship for a
few days until things cleared up in Hawaii.

One man volunteered to organize a crew to repair the storm damages.
Another offered to lead aerobics classes so people could work off their cabin
fever. Bernadette offered to teach drawing for as long as they had paper. Simon
encouraged more suggestions like these.

“I can fish,” announced the older man who had the floor. “Let’s gather
some food so our stores will last a little longer.”

“Hear, hear!” someone called.

“What about seaweed? Can we eat that?”

“My mother cooked it for me all the time in Japan. I can help.”

More people filed into the aisles to offer help. As the suggestions
became more practical, Simon showered praise on the speakers. He offered a few
contributions himself, and everyone listened closely to him. He always asked
for at least one or two other people’s affirmation whenever he approved of an
idea. It became a call-and-response conversation.

“My sister and I can set up activities for the kids.”

“Good idea. I bet some of the teenagers would like to help you.”

“I can arrange a clothing exchange so the runners don’t have to keep
wearing the same thing.”

“I’d really appreciate that. What does everyone else think?”

The more Simon sought out people who agreed with him, the more the
crowd turned in his favor. A consensus was emerging. Simon had somehow won
everyone over to his side by relinquishing the stage to hear them.

Eventually, Rosa Cordova proposed that they come up with a watch
schedule so people could work in shifts and make sure everything was running
smoothly on the ship. Simon praised her for her contribution, and she actually
blushed. Judith was impressed. He had gotten everyone to agree with his
decision to wait a few days before sailing anywhere, but he somehow made
them
feel like they were part of the decision.

“Shall we select a council to guide us over the next few days?” Simon
asked after a while. “It might not be practical to gather in here every time we
need to make a decision. Perhaps we can choose representatives from each of the
major groups: crew, passengers, and runners.”

There were murmurs of assent.

Again Simon waited for a few people to stand up and voice their
agreement before he asked, “Who would like to volunteer?”

Rosa was the first to step forward, followed by a middle-aged man
Judith didn’t know. Some of the other passengers nominated Frank, and he agreed
after a moment’s hesitation. The crew quickly selected Ana
Ivanovna
,
Reggie, and one of the porters as their representatives. Simon asked who would
volunteer for the runners.

“You, of course!” someone shouted from the back of the theater. Simon
accepted modestly and asked for two additional volunteers.

“All right then,” he said when the selections had been made. “Is it
okay if we meet in the mornings over breakfast so we’re all fresh?”

Everyone seemed to think that was a great idea.

They got down to the nitty-gritty details of assigning roles. Judith
ducked into the cramped backstage area of the theater and found some large
posters advertising an old dance show. She brought them out to the stage and
used the backs to create a neat record of all the duties. By the time they were
finished, every healthy adult on the ship had been assigned either a role on
the council or a concrete task for the next twenty-four hours.

Judith took the job of cataloguing nonperishable assets—anything
that could prove useful in the days to come. When Simon suggested her for the
task, she felt a thrill of pride. Simon’s recommendation meant a lot to her.

When the meeting finished, people filed out of the theater with springs
in their steps. A bit of purpose and direction was exactly what they needed in
the face of that day’s setback.

As Judith headed up the aisle toward the doors, she noticed Simon
sitting down on the edge of the stage. He was a slight man and didn’t seem to
take up much space against the backdrop of the huge stage. Yet somehow he made
people want to listen to him and follow him. She hoped she would be like him
one day. And she would show him she was worthy of his trust.

Simon

Simon
thought that had gone surprisingly well. As the assembly dispersed to their new
duties, they seemed calmer than they had in days. Their situation was worse
than it had been since the eruption, but they knew what to do, at least for
now.

He was relieved that no one had asked more about the captain. He’d have
a hard time explaining what had happened to the man. In retrospect maybe it was
good that the captain hadn’t been very visible over the past few days. People
weren’t too used to seeing him around and looking to him for leadership.

A handful of people stopped to shake Simon’s hand before heading out of
the theater. He wished Nina could see him now. She would be so proud. He had
begun to feel responsible for the people on board the
Catalina
. He wanted to protect them, to keep them safe and calm. If
he could do that, maybe he could make up in some small way for his failings
before all this began.

He remembered how he had jumped to
Morty’s
every demand when he was in the midst of his tenure bid. All that seemed so
insignificant now. The simplicity of their battle for survival eliminated any
space for his worries and insecurities. They were going to live. He would make
sure of it.