Dead Calm (43 page)

Relief flooded through him as he realized it wasn't
Mary or Sheila. Glancing over at the other body, he noted that
despite having its face chewed away, it was an older lady with gray
hair.

Taking aim at the man's head, Steve wondered what had
happened to Mary and Sheila. After firing two quick shots, he took
off at a run for the stern of the ship.

***

Heather had just passed deck eight when she heard
cries of, “There he is, get him,” from above her. Her heart sped up
as she realized that someone had spotted Reverend Ricky.

“You're mine, you sick fuck,” Heather vowed as she
started running up the grand staircase.

She cautiously looked around as she reached deck
nine, before mounting the last few steps. No sense popping up and
giving him an easy target, she thought.

Peeking over the edge of the landing, she looked down
the Centrum and saw some of the Faithful pointing up to deck ten
while others were running toward the stairs. They were all in hot
pursuit of what could only be Reverend Ricky.

“I’m on your trail now, asshole,” Heather said out
loud.

She was about to continue up to deck ten when she was
surprised to see the people coming toward her stop dead in their
tracks. One man even went as far as to drop down like he was
sliding into home plate before spinning onto all fours and
scrabbling away on hands and knees as he tried to get his feet
under him.

Screams of, “Stinkers,” filled the air.

Perplexed, Heather at first thought the Faithful had
gotten her confused with one of the Z’s that occasionally got
loose. This was until she looked over her shoulder when a
high-pitched keening noise caught her attention.

Sixty to seventy of the dead had already flooded
through the doors from the cabin area to her right with more coming
behind them. Staggering, limping, crawling and pulling themselves
along by their arms, they were intent on the people running away
until they spotted Heather. The noise they made got louder as they
sped up and headed in her direction.

“Oh, shit,” she breathed as she mentally booted
herself in the ass to get moving.

Running as fast as her feet would take her, she
continued upward. She knew they would have to abandon the Dead Calm
but she had to make sure Ricky got what was coming first. She
worried about Steve, but this was interrupted when she reached deck
ten and heard a boom she recognized as a .45 caliber pistol
followed by screams.

Repeating the same cautious approach she had used on
deck nine, Heather spotted a young woman crouched behind a planter
not far from the stairs leading onto deck ten.

Heather waved to get her attention, and then asked a
quiet voice, “Is it Ricky?”

The woman started babbling at the top of her voice
and Heather worried she'd give their position away. “It's Ricky. I
couldn't believe it when I saw him. A bunch of us started chasing
him. He made it all the way to the rear of the Centrum. That
fat-ass can really run. Then he shot at us, so I turned around and
came back here. If you hurry you can catch him. He's probably
heading for the stairs at the back of the boat.”

Heather took this all in while she cautiously
advanced and said to the woman, “I’ll get Ricky, but you can't stay
here. There's Z’s on deck nine, too many to deal with, so you have
to make your way to the lifeboats on seven. You need to warn the
others to do the same. Find as many people as you can and spread
the word.”

The shrieking of the dead came from below and the
woman's eyes went wide. Seeing that she wasn't going to move,
Heather approached her and grabbed her by the arm, lifting her to
her feet. “Go on! Warn the others,” she yelled. “Go through the
upper decks and warn anyone you see. Then cut back and use the rear
stairs to get to the lifeboats. It's time to get the hell off this
ship!”

Giving the woman a shove to get her moving, Heather
started down the Centrum as she repeated her evacuation
instructions to everyone she came across.

After exiting at the rear of the super structure, she
approached the exterior stairs. Taking every precaution while
moving as fast as she could, she started down. As her foot settled
on the first step, her radio crackled to life, “Steve, Heather,
Susan. It's Tick-Tock. Speak to me. I’ve got an ass-load of dead
coming onto deck six. I’m on seven now and they're here too. What's
the plan, over?”

Heather frowned, disappointed in herself that she'd
been so caught up in catching Ricky that she'd forgotten about the
others.

Stepping out of the line of any possible gunfire from
below, she spoke into her radio, “It's me, Heather. I’m on deck
ten. We got a shit load of Z's coming onto nine too. Ricky must
have popped the doors and now he's heading in your direction to try
and grab a lifeboat, over.”

There was silence for a moment and then she heard the
faint sound of an M-4 being fired from somewhere in the ship. She
counted to thirty and was about to call Tick-Tock again when his
voice came over the speaker, “I heard shooting and went to go see
who it was. It's Steve. He's on his way, over.”

Shots that seemed to come from just below her snuffed
out Heather’s joy at hearing that Steve was okay. She listened for
a moment and could hear the deep boom of a .45 interspersed with
the sharp cracks of two M-4s.

Heather smiled evilly as she realized what had
happened. Ricky had run into Tick-Tock and Steve.

She started rapidly descending the steps to deck
nine. Here she paused briefly, as she drank in the cool night
air.

The sound of gunfire had ceased so Heather took a
chance and called Tick-Tock on the radio. Steve answered. After
assuring each other they were okay, he filled her in on his plan to
exit the Dead Calm and told her he had seen Ricky leave the stairs
at deck nine. He and Tick-Tock would come to her and they would
head up to deck twelve together.

“Negative,” Heather replied, hearing the voices of
the Faithful above her as they started to descend the stairs. “I’ve
got people coming down to seven to get on the lifeboats. We’ve got
to deal with Ricky so that I can get them past deck eight,
over.”

Brain's voice broke into the conversation saying,
“There's something else you need to know, over.”

“Brain, where are you?” Steve asked.

“Holding position off the stern,” he replied. “Susan
told me that's where you wanted me, over.” There was a pause and
then Brain added, “Susan didn't make it.”

Heather's heart felt sick at this news. She thought,
poor Tick-Tock, poor Susan. Her mind flitted briefly to Marcia,
Jonny G and Meat, who had all been killed when the radio station
was overrun by the dead.

So many gone, she lamented.

Switching mental gears, rage flooded her as she
thought that so many good people were dead and a scumbag like Ricky
was still walking around sucking air. This shit ends here, she
vowed.

Keying the transmit button on the radio she said,
“I’m going after Ricky. I’m coming down from deck nine. Steve, you
and Tick-Tock work your way up from seven. We’ll make sure Ricky
doesn't screw with the people trying to evacuate the ship,
over.”

Brain cut in saying, “Then you need to hurry. The
ship's starting to sink. The water's already covered the outer
hatch on deck four, over.”

“Watch for us at the stern,” Steve told Brain. “We’ll
be on deck twelve. Heather, we move out when you call it,
over.”

“Then I call it,” she said. “Move out.”

She clipped the radio to her belt and moved in a
crouch as she descended the stairs. The rear of the ship was only
thirty feet or so to her right and the area was wide open except
for a few deck chairs. Ricky was too fat to hide behind any of
them, so she knew it was clear. To her left was the superstructure
of the ship but there were no doors, as this would be the back wall
of the Sounds Lounge. The only way to get into the ship was to go
along the twenty-foot wide walkway that ran the length of the
superstructure on its port and starboard sides.

Reaching deck eight, she saw movement on the stairs
below and recognized Steve. Tick-Tock appeared moments later. After
they joined up, Heather said quietly to Tick-Tock, “I’m sorry about
Susan.”

Tick-Tock nodded but kept his feelings to
himself.

“We’ll grieve later,” he said. “Right now, we need to
take care of Ricky and get the hell off this ship.”

Heather wanted to say something to console him but
was silenced by his blank faced expression. Instead, she turned to
Steve and said, “You guys take the starboard side and I’ll take
port. If I remember correctly, we have to go a couple hundred feet
before we get to a door. With the Z’s coming from the forward
sections and us from the rear, we'll trap Ricky in between. It
shouldn't be hard to find him.”

Steve nodded his assent to the plan. Before heading
off with Tick-Tock, he gave Heather a kiss and told her to be
careful. She told him to do the same. Parting, they turned their
full attention to the task at hand while a steady stream of the
Faithful went down the stairs to the lifeboats.

Heather, Steve and Tick-Tock entered the Dead Calm
for the final time.

***

The Reverend Ricky Rose left the bridge and ran
through deck ten out into the Centrum. Here, he saw a few of his
former Faithful going in and out of stores as they searched for him
so he kept to the outside of the walkway as he raced past. Ready to
shoot anyone who barred his way, to his surprise he made it halfway
down the Centrum before being spotted.

As the first cry of alarm went out, Ricky held the
.45 out in plain view as a deterrent to anyone trying to stop him.
The few Faithful who were still in his path quickly moved upon
seeing the gun so he had a clear shot to the doors that led out
onto the stern of the ship.

Once there, he paused to catch his breath. He turned
and saw about twenty of the former members of his congregation
coming toward him so he raised his pistol and fired a single shot
in their direction. Not slowing to see if he hit anyone, he went
outside and waddled quickly down the stairs to deck seven, then
paused to rest. He was feeling nauseated from running and for a few
seconds thought he might pass out. Steadying himself on the
handrail, the waves of sickness washing through his overtaxed body
finally faded.

That was when he ran into the people from the
sailboat.

Firing blindly to try and keep them away, Ricky saw
his path to the lifeboats was blocked. He had to find another way.
He headed back up to deck eight, planning on cutting through the
Centrum and using the grand staircase to descend to deck seven.

The only problem was, he'd forgotten about the
dead.

He barely made it to the casino before he saw thirty
of the creatures coming toward him from the front of the ship. A
few stopped to fight over pieces of some of his Faithful who had
been brought down but most were heading in his direction.

Cursing his luck, he headed back the way he had come.
As he neared the sliding glass door leading to the portside
exterior walkway, he stopped again when he saw Heather cautiously
look through the very door he was going to use to escape. Rage at
this woman overcame Ricky's common sense and from thirty feet away
he fired an un-aimed shot in her direction. She ducked back and
fired a few return shots that shattered the glass panel of the door
but otherwise did no damage.

Then Ricky got an even bigger surprise. More bullets
came at him from the doors set in the starboard side of Centrum.
Without thinking, he spun in that direction and started squeezing
the trigger of his pistol as rapidly as he could. Three times it
fired before the slide locked back. It was empty.

Squealing in rage, he flung the empty pistol down and
looked around wildly for somewhere to hide. There was a door in
front of him and without thinking, he ran through it.

Entering the balcony above the Sounds Lounge, Ricky
heard the keening noises coming from the dead below as they sensed
him. Seeing no other way out, he hid behind the last row of seats
in the balcony. Looking around at where he'd ended up, he cursed
the fact that the dead he had let loose were the very reason he was
now trapped.

***

Heather picked up the discarded pistol and handed it
to Steve. Without a word, she walked purposefully to the doors
leading to the balcony of the Sounds Lounge. Although Ricky was
unarmed, she still used caution entering. Once inside, she stopped
for a moment to let her eyes adjust. With her rifle at the ready,
she moved down the center aisle as she checked each row for Ricky.
She had seen him duck inside and knew he was here. Behind her,
Steve and Tick-Tock covered the Centrum, occasionally shooting any
of the dead who approached their position.

Heather was closing in on the last row next to the
balcony rail when she heard someone crying softly.

Stopping, she called, “Come on out Ricky. I promise I
won't shoot you.”

I’ve got another idea on how to deal with your fat
ass, she thought.

The sobbing grew louder so Heather said, “If I have
to come get you, I’m gonna shoot you in both your knees and drag
you out into the Centrum for the stinkers to eat. Now show
yourself.”

From behind the last row of seats, two hands poked up
followed by Ricky's fat, red face. His crying stopped and he opened
his mouth to speak but Heather ordered, “If you say one word, I’ll
shoot you in the nuts.”

Ricky shut his mouth with a snap.

Heather ordered, “Move over to the aisle and
stop.”

Ricky obeyed and was quickly standing with his back
to the railing, the main floor of the lounge spread out behind him.
Heather advanced until she was only feet away, never moving the
barrel of her rifle from where it was aimed at Ricky's crotch.