Read Ship of the Damned Online
Authors: James F. David
Ship of the Damned (14 page)
E
lizabeth was back in the ship, in the same corridor as before, except this time it didn’t feel anything like a dream. The detail was rich, and there were smells; oily, thick smells of diesel and grease.
lizabeth was back in the ship, in the same corridor as before, except this time it didn’t feel anything like a dream. The detail was rich, and there were smells; oily, thick smells of diesel and grease.
“Hello, Elizabeth,” Anita said.
Anita was with her, wearing her hair down and her pink dress with the bunny on the front, and it confused Elizabeth. Wanda was supposed to have been with Elizabeth in the dream. She had the most experience exploring the ship, and was the least affected.
“Wes, are you there?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, Elizabeth.”
“Anita is here with me, not Wanda,”
“She must be the strongest receiver,”
Wes said after a long pause.
“As the dominant one, she’s controlling the dream. We can try adjusting the parameters and try to bring out Wanda.”
Wes said after a long pause.
“As the dominant one, she’s controlling the dream. We can try adjusting the parameters and try to bring out Wanda.”
Elizabeth thought it over, but decided against it. The link was working, and as long as they didn’t jump off the ship and touch the edge of the world, there should be no danger.
“Anita and I will explore the ship, Wes. Is that okay with you, Anita?”
“You won’t leave me?” Anita said.
“I won’t leave you.”
Elizabeth hugged Anita and stroked her hair. When they separated, she realized that Anita looked worse than she had in the last dream. There were hints of bags under her eyes and her hair was mussed. Elizabeth understood that this time she wasn’t just seeing Anita’s image of herself Now she was seeing an image shaped by her memory of Anita combined with the memories of Wanda and Margi.
“It’s much more detailed now, and I can hear sounds,” Elizabeth said.
“You’re talking to Wes again, aren’t you, Elizabeth?”
“That’s right.”
“Wes, this doesn’t feel like a dream,” Elizabeth said. “I feel like I’m really on a ship.”
“Maybe you should come out?”
“No. We’ll find the bathroom and look in the mirror again.”
“Be careful, Elizabeth,”
Wes said.
Wes said.
“This way, Elizabeth.”
Anita started down the ship’s corridor. This time Elizabeth could hear Anita’s feet on the metal floor. There were more visual details, smells, and sounds. Integrating Wanda, Margi, and Anita had improved the quality of the dream—if it was a dream.
Elizabeth followed Anita to the next hatch, and this time when they pushed it open the hinge groaned. Anita started through the hatch, but then gasped and turned back, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth and burying her face.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth said.
“Len says Anita’s heart rate just jumped—
respiration and BP are all up,”
Wes said.
respiration and BP are all up,”
Wes said.
Anita didn’t respond, so Elizabeth gently pulled her arms loose, saying, “Let me look. I’ll be right back.”
Elizabeth pushed the hatch open further and found herself staring at a man’s contorted face. Startled, she jumped back just as the little girl had.
“Elizabeth—”
Wes began.
Wes began.
“I know, my pulse and respiration are all up,” Elizabeth said, cutting Wes off “Give me a second, Wes.”
Looking back, Elizabeth saw that the face was just as before. She pushed the hatch wider. The man wasn’t whole. It was the body of a sailor protruding from the corridor wall. Most of the head was visible, as well as one leg, an arm, and half of his chest. The rest of the sailor ended at the wall. Watching the wide-open eyes, Elizabeth touched the sailor’s chest—the eyes remained frozen. Elizabeth felt along the sailor’s chest where it
met the wall, but could find no gap. It was as if the sailor was part of the wall.
met the wall, but could find no gap. It was as if the sailor was part of the wall.
“Wes, I’m looking at a man who seems to be part of the wall.”
“Is he alive?”
Wes said.
Wes said.
“No. At least he isn’t moving and shows no response to touch.”
There was silence as Wes discussed the sailor with Shamita and Len.
“Elizabeth, we don’t know what to make of the man in the wall. It’s your call. Do you want to continue?”
Elizabeth went back to Anita and held her close.
“It’s just a man, Anita. He’s sticking out of the wall, but he’s just like a statue. He can’t move and he can’t hurt you. I know it’s scary—it scared me too.”
“I never saw anything like that before,” Anita said.
“There might be other new things, Anita, because this isn’t just your dream, it’s Margi’s and Wanda’s too. Do you want to go on? Help me find the mirror again?”
“I guess so,” Anita said.
“It’s important if we’re going to stop the dream, Anita.”
Nodding, Anita separated from Elizabeth and took her hand, stepping toward the hatch.
“We’re going on, Wes,” Elizabeth said.
As they passed the man in the wall, Anita stared wide-eyed, studying him from all angles. Then they were past him and down the corridor to a staircase. Elizabeth followed Anita up to the deck above and found herself outside, looking down on the big guns mounted on the bow.
“This is where they steer,” Anita said, pulling Elizabeth along.
They entered a hatch and were in the pilot house; the ship’s wheel, compass, and communications tubes were here. The detail was perfect, and the ship looked ready to sail. From the pilot house they passed through the chart room and then into another compartment filled with old-fashioned electronic gear. Elizabeth recognized only a radar scope. Then they passed outside, climbed down, and back in though another hatch, finding themselves in a compartment with radio equipment. After that they emerged behind one of the big guns and climbed down a ladder and entered another corridor where Anita stopped again, reaching back for Elizabeth’s hand. There were two sailors in the corridor ahead. One was sticking up through the deck, only his shoulders and head showing, his mouth and eyes open, frozen in an expression of surprise. The other sailor stood at the far end, all of his body visible, his face turned away.
“There are two more men, Wes,” Elizabeth said. “One is in the deck, the
other is standing in the corridor at the far end.” Then, to Anita, she said, “Let me go first.”
other is standing in the corridor at the far end.” Then, to Anita, she said, “Let me go first.”
Taking Anita’s hand she led her toward the body in the deck, her eyes locked on the man, watching for movement. They passed the man, Anita staring in amazed horror, and then came to the standing man. This sailor was dressed in navy denims and stood perfectly still like a department store mannequin. Elizabeth scooted around him, her back to the wall, her eyes watching his face. His eyes were open, his face turned toward the corridor ahead. There was no fear in his eyes, nor any expression except a little weariness as if he was just up from a nap. He was a young man, maybe eighteen or nineteen.
“Let’s hurry,” Anita said.
Anita opened the next hatch and stepped in, disappearing. Elizabeth followed, finding herself outside on the deck of the ship near the bow, under one of the big guns.
“See, it changes,” Anita said, expecting to be in the bathroom. “We have to try again.”
“Wait,” Elizabeth said, and walked to the rail. She looked out at the nothingness that had knocked her out. Before, it had no detail; and adding Margi and Wanda to the integration hadn’t changed that. Then Elizabeth leaned over the side and looked toward the bow. The anchor was still there, but this time it was hanging from a chain. Then she saw the number.
“Wes, are you still there?”
“Of course,”
Wes said.
Wes said.
“I’m looking at the bow of the ship. There’s a number painted there.”
“You didn’t jump off, did you?”
“I’m leaning over the rail. The number is CA137.”
“I’ve got it,”
Wes said.
“That’s enough. I’m going to bring you out.”
Wes said.
“That’s enough. I’m going to bring you out.”
“Not until I look in that mirror.”
“Let’s keep going, Elizabeth,” Anita said. “I’m scared.”
“All right. Wes, we’re moving on to find the mirror.”
Anita led Elizabeth to a hatch. Just before she followed Anita through, Elizabeth looked down the deck toward the stern and saw a shimmering green light. Wanting to investigate, she hesitated, but knew she had to keep up with Anita since the same hatches didn’t always lead to the same places. Then she stepped through the hatch.
J
ett stepped onto the deck of the USS Norfolk, walking forward to give the others room. Toward the bow he saw a man stepping through a hatch. Freezing, he held up his hand to warn the others of the danger.
ett stepped onto the deck of the USS Norfolk, walking forward to give the others room. Toward the bow he saw a man stepping through a hatch. Freezing, he held up his hand to warn the others of the danger.
“Why is your hand up, Nate?” Ralph asked. “Do you have to go to the bathroom? When you gotta go, you gotta go.”
“Shut up,” Evans hissed.
Jett shot Ralph a stern look, making a zipping motion across his mouth.
“Gotcha,” Ralph whispered at a volume greater than most people speak.
Ralph pretended to take a key from his pocket and lock his lips, then with an exaggerated gesture he dropped the key back into his pocket.
With a hand motion, Jett sent his team to take cover under the eight-inch gun turret mounted near the stern. Jett could see off the starboard side of the ship clear to the opaque edge of the world of Pot of Gold—there was no supercarrier.
“Peters, Thompson, circle around the stern,” Jett ordered. “Check the port side for the Nimitz.”
Peters and Thompson ducked under the catapults that held the
biplanes, and using a see-saw maneuver, moved out of sight. Then Jett stepped close to Evans, whispering into his reconstructed ear.
biplanes, and using a see-saw maneuver, moved out of sight. Then Jett stepped close to Evans, whispering into his reconstructed ear.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Evans pulled a wooden block from his pocket and set it on the rail of the ship, then backed away and stared at the block. The block rocked, spun, and then shot off the rail into the desert.
“I’m not at full strength yet,” Evans said.
Jett nodded, then surveyed the ship. They were near the stern under a gun turret, the gun barrel pointed aft. There was a wide expanse of deck between the gun and a crane mounted on the stern, and on either side were the biplanes fitted with pontoons and mounted on the catapults. Forward of their position, the superstructure towered over the turret; the radio and radar masts were the highest points. Gun emplacements were mounted all along the superstructure, with a five-inch gun mounted just forward of the eight-inch and three forty-millimeter antiaircraft guns mounted behind those. A large funnel blocked his view forward. No one was in sight.
Peters and Thompson returned, moving stealthily. Thompson shook his head as they arrived.
“There’s nothing on the port side except more desert,” Thompson said. “The Nimitz isn’t here.”
Jett’s orders were clear. If they did not find the Nimitz they were to report immediately. Jett had Peters turn and squat so he could remove the signal laser from his pack. The device was a tube laser attached to a large capacitor capable of powering a short series of bursts. There were only two settings on the device, one signalling presence of the Nimitz, the other its absence. Jett twisted the end of the laser to the negative setting, put it down so it was aimed vertically, and turned it on. The device hummed, emitting an invisible beam.
“Let’s find the generators,” Evans said.
Reading emotion through Evans’s scars was difficult, but the tone of his voice hinted that he was happy. Without the Nimitz, killing the Specials was now top priority.
Jett led the way, the team spreading out behind him as best they could on the narrow deck. Peters hung back, covering the rear. Jett led them to the hatch through which the man had entered and opened it a crack, checking the corridor on the other side. It was clear, but as he opened the hatch wider and stepped in, he came face to face with a sailor. Instantly his gun was on the man’s forehead—the sailor didn’t move.
“He’s frozen,” Evans said from behind. “There’s another one.”
Jett looked down the corridor to see a sailor’s body sticking up through the deck—nothing but a head and shoulders. The sight would horrify most people, but Jett felt only a slight adrenaline surge.
“Hihowyadoin?” Ralph said, hand outstretched to the first frozen man.
“Shut up,” Evans hissed again.
“What’s the matter with him?” Ralph said, puzzled.
“It’s a statue,” Jett said. “Like a mannequin in a store window.”
“Oh,” Ralph said, but stared at the man, not quite able to accept Jett’s explanation.
With a sign from Jett, his team checked the compartments on either side of the corridor, working toward stairs where he heard movement. When his team signalled all clear he started down the stairs. At the bottom he signalled Evans forward.
“Everything look the same to you?”
“Yes. Of course, the last time I saw it there was a lot of smoke in my eyes.”
Jett knew that the smoke had come from his own burning flesh.
“If you see anything that looks different, you tell me,” Jett said.
“The only thing that’s going to be different this time is a whole lot of bodies.”
Jett ignored the threat, knowing that Evans was right. One way or another the Specials were going to be cleaned out of Pot of Gold and the easiest way was to find the power source; that’s where he was headed. If the Specials tried to stop them, he would take them out one at a time.
Weapons ready, Jett’s team headed into the bowels of the ship, Ralph trudging along dutifully, lips locked in a fleshy pucker.
Moving cautiously, they checked open hatches, someone always covering their rear. As well-trained professionals, they were light on their feet and moved with military crispness, covering every hatch, every intersection—except for Ralph, whose artless plodding gave away their position every step of the way. Peters, Thompson, Compton, and even Jett hushed him, urging him to walk softly, but he was incapable. Evans, however, glared malevolently with merciless eyes. Jett knew it wouldn’t take much more to set Evans off. What sanity he’d once had, had been baked out of him.
They passed through the pilot house, the chart room, the radio room, and the fire control center, following the sounds ahead. Three more times they came to sailors who were frozen—two embedded in bulkheads, the third frozen midstep on a ladder. Ralph stared at each one long and hard, not able to accept that these men were mere mannequins.
Then Jett turned a corner and saw movement ahead. The man they
had seen on the deck was there, turning into a compartment. A short distance behind him were three sailors and a woman. They were following the first man, unaware of Jett and his team. Jett signalled the others to stop, but Evans didn’t. He had seen the Specials, and there was murder in his eyes.
had seen on the deck was there, turning into a compartment. A short distance behind him were three sailors and a woman. They were following the first man, unaware of Jett and his team. Jett signalled the others to stop, but Evans didn’t. He had seen the Specials, and there was murder in his eyes.
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