Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (4 page)

“Excuse me. Captain?” Judith said, her confident interview voice
forgotten.

The silver-haired man whirled around. He had deep grooves in his
dark-olive skin and a prominent Roman nose.

“I told you. You will not be getting a refund on your cruise from
me
, if you get one at all. Out!”

“Sir, I’m not here for a refund,” Judith began. “I—”

“I also don’t have a working phone connection,” he said. He had a faint
accent that Judith couldn’t place. Maybe Italian?

“I don’t want the phone,” she said. “I—”

“Chances are ninety-nine point one in a hundred that I can’t do
whatever it is you want me to do, including turn this ship around.”

“No, sir. You’ve already saved us by getting us away from the shore. I
saw how you steered after that battleship.”

The captain relaxed, but only by a hair. “Yes, well, I did what I had
to. My pilot abandoned ship at the first report of the disaster, so I did it
with my own hands too.” The captain flicked a crumb of ash off the end of his
cigarette.

“There were warnings?” Judith asked. She recalled Sonya’s words over
breakfast. Something about a cover-up and the earthquakes. Where was Sonya now?

“Mere minutes in advance. It’s a goddamn travesty.” The captain took a
long drag on the cigarette.

“I was jogging on the harbor front this morning,” Judith said.
“Everything seemed normal. I didn’t see emergency bulletins or anything!”

If there had been some warning, she might have been able to get out of
the city.
I could have cancelled my
interview at least.
She knew it was a stupid thought, but she couldn’t
process the idea that the life she had run out of this morning might no longer
exist.

“The harbor front?” the captain said.

“Yeah, the San Diego boardwalk. I’m not a passenger,
er
, guest.”

The captain stared at her and puffed on his cigarette, uncomprehending.

“Um, a bunch of people ran onto the ship at the last minute,” Judith
explained. “The guards and ticket people were gone, and there was nowhere else
to go.”

The captain blew a smoke ring. It joined the haze hovering near the
light fixtures, reminding Judith uncomfortably of the cloud over San Diego.

“Well, that complicates things.”

“I mean, I guess we can pay you eventually if—”

“I’m not worried about your cruise fare.” The captain turned to the
stocky young woman manning the computer console. She wore her brown hair in a
pixie cut, emphasizing her heart-shaped face. “We’ll have to recalculate,
Ren
.”

“Already on it, Captain
Martinelli
.” Her
fingers tripped across the keyboard.

“What are you calculating?” Judith asked.

“Exactly how long we can survive with the supplies we have on board,”
Ren
said.

“More people, more complications,” the captain said, taking another
drag on his cigarette. Judith eyed it, and he held it up to her, eyebrow
raised.

“No, thanks,” she said. “Isn’t smoking on a ship against the law?”

“I believe we may have witnessed the end of law this morning.”

“What do you mean?”

“This disaster has not affected San Diego alone. Whatever is going on,
it’s not an isolated incident.”

“More cities were bombed?” Judith felt the tight pinch of fear.
Not San Francisco. Please, not San Francisco.

“If we were bombed.” The captain chewed the edge of his cigarette,
nearly at the butt. “Young man, you might as well stop peeking around the door
like a goddamn whack-a-mole.”

Manny came into the room, face a dark red. “Yes, Captain, sir.”

“You don’t think it was a bomb?” Judith asked.

“I have a theory,” the captain mused. “It’s almost ridiculous to think
about. A one in ten thousand chance. But it fits.”

“Sir?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps there was a warning.” The captain stared, unseeing,
then seemed to remember she was there. He dropped the cigarette butt on the
floor and ground it in with his heel. “In any case there will be time for
theories later. Exactly how many people ran onto the ship with you this
morning?”

“I don’t know. They’re gathering in the plaza. We’re trying to make
sure anyone who’s injured gets help first. We should be able to get a head
count.”

Judith felt like the captain should really be the one telling her
all this,
not the other way around.

“Good. Good. Is Bennington still on duty down there?” the captain
asked.

“Sir,” Manny chimed in, “I saw him running away from the ship this
morning, sir.”

He was now half-hidden behind a computer console in the row behind the
fleshy middle-aged man who hadn’t spoken yet. The man’s face had turned
greenish gray. He stared limply at his computer screen.
Ren
was still typing feverishly.

“Son of a bitch.” The captain didn’t look surprised. “Well, he’s not
the first goddamn hotel manager I’ve chased away from this ship.”

“There’s a man taking charge down there,” Judith said. “He ran on when
I did. Simon. He sent me up to find you. Would you come down and speak to everyone?
People are pretty scared.”

“If Simon wants the job, he can have it,” the captain muttered. “All right.
Ren
, you can handle things here for the moment. And
make sure
Vinny
doesn’t vomit on the equipment again.
Maintain our present course.”

The woman held up a hand to stop them. She had the other pressed to the
ear of her headset.

“Wait, sir. There’s a message coming in. I think you need to hear it.”

Chapter 4—The Plaza

Simon

When Simon reached the
plaza, it had already begun
to fill with people. It was an open atrium, with balconies rising three stories
high. Shops lined each level, just like in a mall. Railed promenades fronted
the shops on the second and third levels. A grand staircase dominated one end
of the room, with a crystal chandelier hanging above the plush velvet steps. At
the top of the plaza, a glass skylight revealed the darkened heavens.

Simon searched the growing crowds for his daughter. People gathered
everywhere, leaning over the balconies, looking for answers. In addition to the
survivors from the docks, passengers filed in from the stateroom corridors.
They asked frantic questions, bewildered at the array of injuries displayed by
the survivors. Dozens carried bright-orange life jackets with them.

There was no sign of Esther. Irrationally, Simon imagined that she had
somehow gotten off the ship and returned to the city. He had told her to wait
somewhere far from the poisonous air, but she may have followed the crowds to
the plaza. He had to find her. He looked into the shops lining the atrium one
by one in case she’d hidden inside.

The people from the docks—Simon had already begun to think of
them as the runners—assembled in front of a huge gift shop on the bottom
level of the plaza. Pewter models of the ship sat in the windows. Racks of
T-shirts and sweaters marched back into the shop. Hats. Sunglasses. Picture
frames. The storefront had the ship’s slogan etched into the glass: “
Catalina: Your Island at Sea.”

Simon wanted to keep searching for Esther, but the pregnant woman
they’d left back in the lobby needed help soon. There was a coffee bar across
from the gift shop with tables grouped around it. The image of Judith standing
on the reception desk and shattering the cup flitted before Simon’s eyes. He
crossed to one of the tables and climbed on top.

“Everyone,” Simon called, “I think we’re safe for the moment. Is there
a doctor here?”

Immediately, questions thundered from all quarters.

“Can we turn around?”

“Do you work for the cruise line?”

“What’s going on?”

Simon raised his voice. “I don’t have any more answers than the rest of
you. I’m just looking for a doctor.”

“Does your phone work?”

“Are we
gonna
die?”

“All I know is that we need to stay calm and help each other,” Simon
said. “Does anyone else need medical attention? Is there a first aid station
somewhere?”

“The ship, it has a clinic,” a woman shouted from the top balcony in a
rich Eastern European accent. “Deck Four. The doctor is going on shore leave
this morning.”

“Thank you,” Simon called. He couldn’t see the speaker. “All right. If
anyone has any medical experience, even first aid training, would you head for
Deck Four? Anyone with injuries or medical issues, head there too if you’re
able. We’ll send a messenger down to you as soon as we know anything. We also
need someone with medical training to go to the reception lobby to help a
pregnant woman. I think she’s in labor.”

“I’ll go. I’m a nurse,” said a woman in a lurid floral sundress who was
pushing her way through the people gathering on the grand staircase. She was
obviously a passenger, and she had a glass with a stick of celery in her hand.

“Thank you,” Simon said as she set the Bloody Mary on the table at his
feet and swept out of the room.

More people began to shift around, making their way toward the end of
the plaza. Some clutched at their chests or walked gingerly on twisted ankles.
Arms slung around each other, they headed for the fourth deck, along with the
assorted medical personnel. There were a few children among them, but still no
Esther. Simon stayed atop the table, searching the growing crowd for her
bright-blue T-shirt.

People shouted questions from all sides.

“What happened?”

“Are we at war?”

Simon deflected them with the same answers about waiting, staying calm,
listening to the captain when he arrived. He didn’t know any more than they
did. But the questions continued.

“When can we go back to land?”

“Are we going to die?”

Simon kept waiting for someone from the cruise line to turn up and take
charge so he could go look for his daughter, but everyone else was just as lost
as he was.

“Is there anyone from the kitchens?” he asked finally. “Can we get
these people some food?”

“I am head chef,” said the same woman’s voice from up on the balcony.
“I give you answers. The deliveries, they are arriving this morning. We have
lots of food.”

“That’s good. Will you come down here, ma’am?”

“I can see you better from up here,” she said.

A few people chuckled.

“Fair enough,” Simon said. “What’s your name, Madame Chef?” He scanned
the faces peering over the top of the third balcony. A woman with dark hair and
severe maroon lipstick pushed forward.

“Ana
Ivanovna
,” she said.

“Okay, Ana. Can you arrange food for everyone? And some water bottles?”

“I will take care of everything. Don’t worry.”

She barked orders to a group of people in kitchen uniforms gathering
around her on the top floor.

More and more passengers emerged from the corridors, demanding to know
what was going on. They flooded out of the passageways and tramped down the
staircases, some looking like they had just woken up. Many were dressed in
shorts, sundresses, even swimsuits. The sound of flip-flops slapped through the
crowd.

“The captain will be here soon,” Simon told them. “I’m sure he’ll have
news. In the meantime, let’s stay organized, so families can find each other.
If you ran onto the ship this morning, please stay here on the ground level. If
you’re a passenger on the
Catalina
,
gather on the second level.
Crew and hotel staff, please go
to the third level.
Tell the others as they come in.”

People shouted for their family members, scanning the faces of those
who had already gathered, a mixture of fear and hope in their eyes. But having
a bit of order helped. As the groups organized themselves, more families
reunited, hugging and clutching hands like they hadn’t seen each other in
years.

Simon searched for Esther in the throng. He still felt like he was in a
strange, hazy dream. He knew pain waited somewhere beyond the haze. He just
wanted to find his little girl.

There was a flash of movement in the big gift shop, a hint of blue.
Simon climbed off the table and rushed over to the shop. The cash register had
been abandoned. The shelves looked freshly stocked with kitschy cruise mementos
and sundries. Simon made his way to the far corner. A tiny figure in a blue
shirt huddled behind the final shelf.

It wasn’t Esther. It was a little boy, only three or four years old,
with a black bowl cut. Tears streaked his face.

“Are you okay, son?” Simon said.

“I want my mommy,” the little boy whimpered.

Simon’s heart constricted in his chest.
He was finding it hard to
breathe.

“What’s your name?” Simon knelt beside the boy.

“
Adi
Kapur
. My
phone number is 5-5-5-8-0-9-2. Mommy said to say my number if I get lost.”

“That’s very good, but the phones aren’t working right now,” Simon
said. “Are you on the cruise with your family?”

“Yes. We’re going on the big boat to Mexico. Mommy said
we’ll
see dolphins.”

“I hope we will,
Adi
. Listen, right now you
should go out to the second floor and stay right by the stairs, okay? Your
mommy will find you there.”

“She’s there?”

“I hope so. I’ll help you look for her if she’s not, okay?”

“Okay.” The little boy stood and headed for the door.

Simon stayed where he was on the floor of the gift shop. It was quiet,
a needed reprieve from the commotion in the plaza. He took a second to listen
to the quiet. He desperately wished to be home with his family. He thought of
Naomi giving him a quick hug good-bye as she darted for the car, Nina giggling
as he stole a kiss at the door. He closed his eyes. But when he opened them
nothing had changed. He was still kneeling in the empty gift shop of a cruise
ship, and the world had gone to hell.

He had to keep moving, to stay busy. They should collect the names of
all the people on the ship to help families like
Adi’s
find each other. He picked up a stack of notepads with glossy pictures of the
Catalina
on the front and a handful of
souvenir pens. He held his breath before opening the door and rejoining the
chaos in the plaza.

Simon handed off the notepads and pens to a handful of relatively calm
people with instructions to get everyone to write their names and whether they
were missing anyone who was supposed to be on the ship. They could post them
somewhere central.

People continued to file in from all over the ship. They separated
themselves out. First floor, runners; second floor, passengers; third floor,
cruise staff. The third group was the smallest, and no one seemed to rank very
highly, besides Ana
Ivanovna
. Cleaning ladies and
porters conferred in tight knots, divided by native language. There weren’t
very many cruise employees. Maybe some were on shore leave. Simon hoped that
wasn’t also true of the engineering crew. Someone had to sail the ship.

Several hundred people had already squeezed into the plaza. Simon had
hoped there wouldn’t be so many—and immediately felt guilty for the
thought. Every one of these people had survived. But as they packed the
balcony, he realized this would not be a crowd of a hundred or so making their
way to a safe harbor. There could be close to a thousand people on board.

Dividing into groups did help, though. A woman on the second-floor
balcony shrieked and pushed her way through the crowd to sweep little
Adi
into her arms. A pair of runners found each other by
the coffee bar, each wearing the same conference lanyard. Others asked around,
describing features, clothing, anything to help them find
their
loved ones. But Simon didn’t see Esther anywhere in the plaza. She must have
gone deeper into the ship.

“Have you seen my son?”

A man approached Simon. He was in his
midsixties
,
with a large gray mustache and a beer belly, making him look a bit like a
walrus. “His name is Daniel. He’s tall and he was wearing a green polo shirt.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon said. “I don’t think I’ve seen him.”

“He went into the city today,” the man with the mustache said. “I
stayed behind to nap. We’re on vacation to celebrate my retirement from Boeing.”

“I came from the city,” Simon said quietly. He took a slow, steadying
breath. “It didn’t look good. My wife and daughter are there too.”

He thought of the blank dial tone on his phone. He’d been tapping the
call button periodically but still couldn’t get through. He desperately wanted
to hear Nina’s voice. Was it possible that she and Naomi had survived whatever
was happening in the city? He had no capacity to imagine his life without them.
And Esther needed her mother.

The old man watched him, waiting.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said again. “What’s your name?”

“Frank Fordham.”

“Frank, I’m Simon. We need to focus on the people who are here now,
okay? Let’s get through this and then we’ll find our . . .” He took a deep
breath. “We’ll find them.”

Judith

Judith
and Manny waited anxiously as the captain listened through the headset.
Ren
hovered beside him, arms folded over her crisp uniform.
Once, the captain snapped his fingers sharply, and
Ren
leapt to get him a scrap of paper and a pencil.

Outside the huge windows the sky grew darker still.

The other crewman,
Vinny
,
whimpered softly.
Judith stayed as far from him as possible in case he vomited again.
She joined Manny in the second row of computer consoles. She’d only known him
for about ten minutes, but she already felt like they were a team. She found a
box of tissues by one of the computer consoles and helped him wipe the blood
from the cut above his eye.

She thought about what the captain had said: it wasn’t just San Diego.
This incident, whatever had happened, was not isolated. She had assumed the
rest of the world carried on as usual, watching the reports from San Diego with
fascination. They would organize relief efforts, fund-raisers. One day she’d be
able to look back on it and describe what it was like to be here.

But what if other cities really were affected? What if they were at
war? Wars were something that happened in other countries, to people on the
news. She was too young to experience one firsthand!