Dead Calm (39 page)

The Faithful were shocked at the revelation that they
had been taken. Despite a few catcalls from the group, with so much
evidence laid out in front of them they had no choice but to
believe them. For quite a few, it blossomed into awareness with
ease since hadn't this been what that little voice in the back of
their minds had been telling them all along?

The Faithful now believed, but not in the rapture.
Sad, embarrassed faces looked up at the stage as if to ask, how
could this have happened? What did I do to deserve this?

Suddenly, the mood changed as a man’s voice called
out sharply, “You were one of them, Sheila. You helped Ricky do
this. If we got conned, you're one of the people who did it.”

The crowd turned angry at the accusation and hundreds
of voices shouted out in agreement. Thankful at finding someone to
vent their frustration and embarrassment on, as it was easier to
blame somebody else than to believe themselves fools, in no time,
heated voices were calling out, “Whore,” and “Kill Ricky's
slut.”

Steve stood by patiently as he waited for the uproar
to die down. Instead it grew louder. He looked at Sheila to find
she had hung her head in shame, the microphone dangling loosely in
her hand. He felt a moment of compassion for her. He turned back
toward the Faithful and was about to tell them to shut the hell up
when, to his amazement, he saw that the crowd had turned into a mob
and were actually pushing toward the stage to get to Sheila. In
their humiliation, they had found a target to take their
frustration out on.

What in the hell is wrong with these people? Steve
asked himself. Don't these morons realize they only have themselves
to blame?

Anger replaced his confusion, and in a flash, he
un-slung his M-4 and shouldered it as he saw from the corner of his
eye Heather do the same. Brain pointed Steve's Glock at the nearest
people in the crowd. Sheila had backed away as the mob started
forward, the microphone still in her hand. In two steps Steve
reached her and stripped it from her. Holding it up to his mouth,
his words cut across the pool deck as he yelled out harshly,
“Anyone who touches her dies. Back off! You fucking idiots brought
this on yourselves. She's not to blame for your stupidity. You
are.”

Hearing these words booming across the deck like the
voice of God himself and seeing the weapons and the determination
on the faces of the Steve and his crew, the crowd stopped with a
jerk and started to back up. At the rear of the mass of people, a
few of the Faithful broke and ran.

Steve thought, ain't no fun when the rabbit's got the
gun.

He stepped protectively in front of Sheila, trying to
reassure her by saying, “Don't worry, no one's going to touch one
red, well currently blonde, hair on your head. If they do, they
die.”

Until now, Sheila had been nothing more than a hanger
on, almost a camp follower. Except for Mary, none of the group had
much to do with her, nor wanted to. This had changed when she had
walked into the casino and risked her life to help get Brain
back.

Standing with his rifle pointed at the crowd, Steve
realized that good, bad or indifferent, and despite her morals or
lack thereof, Sheila was one of them now. She was part of their
group and anyone who screwed with one of them would feel the wrath
of them all.

“Calm down and shut up,” Steve ordered as the crowd
backed up.

They began to comply and he lowered his rifle but
kept it held at the ready as he started speaking into the
microphone again, finishing his account of the events that had
occurred since his group set foot on the Dead Calm. Just by looking
at their faces as he spoke, Steve knew that the crowd was his and
they would band together to search for Ricky. But when he reached
the part about Ricky's Head Ushers being wiped out and that Ricky
was hiding somewhere on the ship, he was surprised at the ferocity
of the crowd as they screamed for the Reverend's head to be cut off
and displayed on a spike.

Now you've got someone to really focus on, he
thought.

Steve let them rage on for a few minutes. When they
had quieted down to a dull roar, he started giving orders on how
they should split up and search the ship for the Reverend Ricky
Rose.

***

As soon as Ricky saw Steve take the stage, he knew
his reign on the Calm of the Seas was over. Instead of crumpling to
the floor like he had almost done earlier, a new resolve came over
him as he spun from the window.

If it was over, then he had nothing left to lose.

With a purposeful stride, he walked to the elevators
and pressed the call button, his irrational fear of someone waiting
for him beyond the doors a thing of the past. He knew what he was
up against now. Since the people from the sailboat seemed to have
taken control, this meant his men were dead and it was just him
against the world. But he’d grown stronger due to his near
breakdown and could deal with that.

With everyone on the pool deck, Ricky had no problem
making his way to deck eight and cutting across to the grand
staircase. Huffing and puffing as he climbed, by the time he
reached his cabin he was out of breath. Opening the door, he found
the Hungarian sisters gone and felt a moment of mixed anger and
relief. Anger that they were gone but relieved that he didn't have
to drag them along with him. They might end up getting in the way
of what he planned next.

With this resolved, Ricky made his way to the
bridge.

As he approached the heavy security door, he noticed
that it was slightly ajar and that the locking mechanism had been
torn up by what looked like automatic weapons fire. At first it
troubled him that he couldn't secure the door, but this worry went
away when he realized that it wouldn’t matter anyway. He didn’t
plan on staying for any length of time. He would be here just long
enough to insure that the ship went down with its Captain.

Looking at the switches that controlled the
watertight doors, Ricky hesitated as his mind flashed to the one
person on the ship who could be an ally. One who could help make
sure that no one escaped his final farewell to the Calm of the
Seas.

Bringing the two-way radio to his mouth, Ricky pushed
the transmit button and said in a firm, steady voice, “Tim, are you
there? We need to talk about your father.”

***

As Steve jumped down off the stage, the jolt sent a
shock of pain through his chest. Heather saw him wince and in a
firm voice commanded, “That's it, buddy. You're through. You're
benched. And if you try to fight me on this, I’m going to get some
of the Faithful and have them carry you down to deck four and sit
on you.”

“I'm fine,” Steve protested and smiled. “Besides, it
looks like the Faithful are following me now, so they won't listen
to a mere mortal such as yourself. I’m their new leader. All hail
Reverend Steve, leader of the Church of Cosmic Reality.”

Heather smiled at the weak joke but it had a ring of
truth to it. Steve had a charisma that seemed to make people want
to do his bidding, the Faithful being no exception. They had gotten
organized into groups of four under Steve's direction and were now
filtering down to the lower decks in search of Ricky. Heather
decided that if Steve asked them to storm the forward cabins and
fight the dead bare handed, they would obey without question.

But that's them, Heather thought. There are two
people on this ship that are completely immune to my man's charms.
One is Mary and the other is me. And I’m done fooling around.

Giving Steve a twisted smile, she said, “Alright
Reverend Steve. You want to play tough guy and keep running around
until you really hurt yourself, then it's time for me to pull out
the big guns. If you don't get down to deck four and get your ass
into bed, then you're cut off. No more nookie, no more lovey-dovey,
no more nothing.”

Steve deflated visibly at this and said dejectedly,
“No more feather?”

“Separate beds,” Heather threatened.

Holding his hands up in surrender, he said, “Okay,
you win. I’ll be good, I’ll go peacefully.”

“I thought you'd see it my way,” Heather said with a
smirk.

Looking around at the pool deck where only a few of
the Faithful still loitered, he nonetheless tried to stall by
saying, “What about the lifeboats? We need to get everyone up to
speed on how to pilot them.”

“But you won't be here to do it,” Heather shot him
down. “Tick-Tock and I will take care of it.”

Steve looked at his second in command for help,
urging him with his eyes to say they needed him.

Instead of coming to his aid, Tick-Tock said, “Go
downstairs and lay down. Heather dropped the big one and it's over.
Go peacefully.”

Steve opened his mouth to try and find another
excuse, but just then, a sharp pain hit his solar plexus. Finally
admitting defeat, he gave in. He knew he had to get some rest and
let his body heal. Besides, everything is moving along smoothly
now, he placated himself. They'd find Ricky, throw him to the
sharks, evacuate the boat and sail off into the sunset. Ricky and
his Ushers would be nothing more than a bad memory.

He decided to be satisfied with the successes of the
day and give in - and besides that, the threat of getting cut off
really hit home - he kissed Heather and turned to head for the
stairs leading to the lower decks. Once he was out of sight, he
planned on cutting over to deck seven to check on Mary and then
going back to the Sombrero to collect the weapons left by the Head
Ushers. He might be slightly incapacitated but he could still do
his part as he went to convalesce.

Before he could make it two steps, he heard Heather
call to Brain, “You and Sheila go with him and make sure he heads
straight for deck four. No detours. If I find out that you let him
make any side trips, I’ll talk to Connie about cutting you off from
any more kissy-huggy.”

Brain opened his mouth to protest that he wasn't the
one who was causing all the trouble when Tick-Tock cut him off by
saying, “Don't argue, Brain. Chicks do that kind of thing for each
other. She's not bluffing.”

“Whose side are you on?” Brain asked accusingly.

“My own, now unless you want to spend your
foreseeable future alone, I suggest you do like you're told.”

Brain took his advice and with Steve and Sheila in
tow left to go below.

Once they were gone, Heather turned to Tick-Tock and
said, “Now let's go find Ricky. I’ll check deck ten again and you
work on nine.”

Despite Heather's threat, Steve managed to convince
Brain to stop off at deck seven so he could look in on Mary. He
knew that Heather had nothing to coerce Sheila with since Mary
would disregard anything she was told to do especially when it came
to when she had sex. And besides that, after Steve saved Sheila's
ass on the stage, she owed him one anyway. He wasn't concerned with
her ratting him out. Knowing they would be at the aid station for a
few minutes, Steve sent Brain to collect the weapons left in the
Sombrero Lounge.

At least I got a few things done, he consoled
himself.

After the tech was gone, Sheila stopped before he
entered the aid station and said to him, “Thank you for standing up
for me with the crowd. For a second there, I thought they were
going to come after me.”

Steve gave her a strange smile and replied, “No
problem. We stick up for our own.”

Sheila turned to go but was stopped when Steve said
in a low voice, “By the way, now that you're part of the group, one
thing you need to keep in mind is that if you ever put any of our
lives in jeopardy, you'll wish I had let that mob tear you apart
compared to what I’ll do to you.”

Without another word, he entered the aid station.

Shocked and angry at the threat, but then remembering
what Steve had done to Brother Seth and the offhand way he had
killed him, Sheila made a mental note to never cross Steve.

Looking at Mary as she slept on one of the padded
examination tables, Steve tried to determine how bad the wound was.
Around the bandages, all he could see was that her cropped hair had
been cut even further away to dress her wounds. Susan joined him
and said quietly, “She's in pretty good shape considering how many
splinters I pulled out of her. I gave her some Ibuprofen for the
pain and Sheila gave her a Valium.”

Sheila entered. Seeing her, Steve moved away from
Mary's side to the far corner of the room where he beckoned for
both of them to join him. In a whispered voice, he said, “Sheila,
you stay with Mary. Don't give her anything besides some Advil when
she wakes up. She might have a concussion. Watch her for
vomiting.”

To Susan, he said, “You go below with me. I'm going
to need you to check on Connie and the kids and then come back and
watch the stairs.”

Steve then explained everything that had happened up
on the pool deck so she would be up to date. He didn't think Ricky
would try to make a grab for the sailboat now that everyone was
turned against him, but anything was possible. He told her to keep
a sharp look out. If Ricky did show up, he told Susan he would be
in the Captain’s Clothes Store and would have his radio on.

When he was done briefing her, she insisted on
examining his wounds. After he removed his shirt, she gently
prodded the areas where he had been shot and told him that, to the
best of her knowledge, nothing seemed to be broken. His ribs were
bruised, but that was to be expected after taking two bullets at
close range. Both discolored spots where the bullets had hit were
about the size of a silver dollar and had turned black at their
center. This color flowed to a dark purple and then to yellow.

As Steve was putting his shirt back on, Brain entered
to let him know he had retrieved the dead Ushers’ weapons. With
everything seemingly under control and nothing else to keep them,
they headed to the grand staircase. On the way down to deck four,
he checked in with Heather and Tick-Tock to see if they had found
Ricky. He assured her he was calling from deck four when she asked
suspiciously where he was, and she told there was no news on Ricky.
She promised to call and let him know the minute he was spotted.
Then she told him to stay where he was. If she caught him out of
bed, he knew the consequences.