Survival Instinct (Book 3): Fighting Instinct Page 19
Moving away from the stairs, Hanna hurried past the medical centre, not yet bothering to put on the shoes still tied to her waist. They were soaking wet anyway, which would only make them louder.
Just past the medical centre was an entrance to a crew only area. If it was like the Diana, it would lead Hanna into the laundry room. Once she got through the door and closed it behind her, Hanna had no idea where she was. It was pitch black with the door sealed. Pawing at the closest walls, Hanna couldn’t find a light switch.
Her breathing quickened as she imagined what might be in the dark ahead of her. Turning back around, she opened the door once more, but the extremely close sounds of the zombies made her swiftly close it again. Hanna sat in front of the door, pressing her back against it, and tried to calm herself down. The zombies out there were unlikely to know she was in here. By sitting against the door, she was making it difficult to open, especially if the zombies were as weak and dumb as the one by the boat. They were unlikely to try the door, but she would know if they did. Also, by sitting down, she had made herself a more difficult target for the zombies that might be on her side of the door. Zombies tended to shuffle around upright, and they couldn’t see any better in the dark than she could. If a zombie’s legs bumped into her, it wouldn’t know she was a living human, provided she stayed quiet.
Suddenly remembering the emergency container, Hanna unhooked it from herself and opened the plastic canister. She had to go through everything by feel. The first thing was definitely a rope, there was no mistaking its coils. Placing the rope gently on her lap, she reached in for the next object. This one took her longer to figure out. It was smaller than her hand, plastic, and hollow. It had an odd shape, kind of like a peeling cylinder, with a key ring on one end, and when she moved it, something rattled around inside. It wasn’t until her searching fingers investigated the slot that she realized it was a whistle. It wouldn’t be nearly as helpful as the rope would be. Still, she placed it on her lap with the rope and returned to the canister. Pulling everything out one at a time, she dug through a series of foil wrapped packages, which she had no hope of identifying in the dark. Most of them were small, box shaped packages, but a few were larger, and some contained things with irregular shapes. Everything was added to her lap pile, and she’d figure out what each item was later. The next object Hanna’s hands found felt like a revolver. There was no reason for a gun to be in the emergency kit though, which had been packed long before the zombies. Feeling along the short barrel, she figured out that the opening was way too big for bullets. It was an aufflackern gewehr: a flare gun. Reaching back into the kit, she felt there was only one more object remaining. It didn’t feel like flares, so maybe one of the packages contained them. The final object was what she had hoped for. With its hard rubber, cylindrical body capped by glass on one end, Hanna easily identified it as a flashlight. It was small, unlikely to cast a lot of light, but it was better than nothing.
Hanna hesitated before turning it on. What would she see? She could just imagine a dozen corpses standing a short distance down the corridor from her. If she turned on the flashlight, and they were there, the dead would bury her.
While pressing the glass end tightly against her left palm, Hanna pressed the button on the side. There was a soft click and the flashlight turned on. The only way Hanna could tell that it was on, was the thin, red glow of her palm around the edges of the flashlight. She couldn’t see anything beyond that, but she listened intently. The flashlight’s click hadn’t set off any moaning or groaning, and there weren’t any shuffling and scuffling sounds. Continuing to use her hand as a hood, Hanna slowly let more and more light filter out. As she continued to see nothing, she finally took the risk and shone the beam down the hallway. There was nothing there.
Letting out the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding, Hanna bent over with relief. She felt a little like throwing up after everything she’d gone through.
As she packed everything back into the orange container, Hanna read the labels on the packages. One of the larger packages was something called a solar still, while another one was a space blanket. These she put in first, not being able to think up uses for them. The irregular packages were flares like she had thought, a few extra batteries for the flashlight, and a piece of tough fishing line with a hook on the end. The rest of the silvery packs had some sort of food rations in them. Hanna put the food in before the irregular packages, followed by the flare gun. Upon trying to put the rope back in, Hanna realized it no longer fit. Apparently, the supplies had been packed to maximize space, and changing the positions of items had used up more space. It didn’t matter. Hanna tossed the whistle in on top of the flare gun and closed the lid. She attached the container to her lifejacket once more, and uncoiled the rope. She then wrapped the rope around the entirety of her left forearm, making a kind of armour against bites.
While doing all of this, Hanna had been holding the flashlight between her teeth. Although this worked, she was beginning to realize that the pukey feeling wasn’t just from her stomach. Having her teeth clamped around the end of the flashlight seemed to be causing her throat to open. It was uncomfortable, and made her breathing surprisingly unsteady. Removing the flashlight from her mouth, Hanna retied the rope so that the flashlight was held against the top of her arm.
Picking up the oar with both hands, Hanna was now ready to explore the strange ship. She got to her feet, and settled the oar in a way that kept it at the ready, but still allowed the flashlight to point mostly forward. Even though she was ready gear-wise, it still took her a full minute to take that first step, and then another full minute to take the second.
Progress down the short hall was slow, but Hanna eventually made it. It appeared she was in the laundry room, very much like the Diana’s. The layout and machines were different, but this was definitely the laundry room. As she walked through the room, she paid more attention to what was ahead, rather than where she was putting her feet. When Hanna stepped on something cold, and wet, a shudder raced up her spine.
Pausing, Hanna looked down, lifting her foot and pointing the flashlight. It was blood. There wasn’t a lot of blood, just a trail of drops, but she had stepped on it. Shuddering again, Hanna untied the shoes from her waist. After wiping the blood off her foot onto the canvas side, she hastily put the shoes on. Damn the added noise they made, she didn’t want to step on any more blood with her bare feet.
Continuing through the laundry room, Hanna wondered if the blood she had stepped on was from a zombie. She worried about infection, even though she knew she had no open wounds anywhere near her feet. She also worried about finding the thing at the end of the trail. The blood was very red, however. Hanna had seen enough zombie blood to know it wasn’t usually that red, or watery. It didn’t take long for zombie blood to darken, and thicken. In fact, according to the doctors aboard the Diana, infected blood began changing while the person was still alive and well. Several possibilities raced through Hanna’s mind, none of which she would be able to verify.
The trail of blood drops moved all the way through the laundry room and to the door that led into one of the engine rooms. Hanna paused, unsure what she’d find on the other side of the door. Still, she had to go through it. If she went through the engine room, she should be able to reach the other end of the ship, or at least find some service stairs that would lead her upwards.
She pushed through the door. It was as empty as the laundry room, albeit louder. Part of the ship was still running, but Hanna didn’t know enough about engines to know what part. The trail of blood continued through the engine room, leading off into the darkness. She ignored it for now, seeing something much better just a short distance away. There was a staircase here, just as she had hoped there might be. Now she had to decide whether it was better to take this staircase, or continue toward the front of the ship. Looking back at the blood trail, her decision was quickly made; the stairs were best.
Climbing up, Hanna came to a sma
ll room at the top. It was a storage room, containing a lot of folding chairs and tables. Creeping over to a door at the other end, she poked her head around the frame. It looked like she was in the conference centre, which was perfect. She knew how to get everywhere from there.
A loud noise from behind startled Hanna. She hurried over to the stairs and peered down, although by then, she knew it was pointless. There wasn’t anything to see, because the sound she heard was the engines starting up. It was a very loud sound, the kind that would draw zombies.
Hanna ran back out into the conference centre. She didn’t know how smart these zombies were or whether they could find the door to the engine room, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Best to get as far away from there as quickly as possible. Locating the stairs, she ran up taking two at a time. The fourth deck brought sunlight and a zombie. Hanna just ran past the zombie and headed straight outside. She kept running along the deck until she hit the stairs at the front that led to the helicopter pad. Up there, toward the interior of the ship, was a gated door leading to a little enclosed area that had been set aside as a sort of outdoor break room for the crew. After closing the gate behind her, Hanna looked out through the bars. If the zombie was able to follow her outside, it was unlikely to follow her all the way here. Even if it did, it would probably take a few minutes.
While looking out through the bars, she saw that the ship she was on was turning. It was turning toward the Diana, in fact. Was it possible that people from the Diana had come over here and were taking this ship so that they could strip it for supplies later?
It was impossible to know. All Hanna knew for now was that she wasn’t alone on the ship. Her plans would need to change again.
12
Freya Attends A Meeting
Freya hated having her hands bound together, but there was nothing she could do about that now. If she wanted to stay on this ship, with these people, she had to obey their rules. Right now, that meant walking with the others from that dungeon-like place, called the Dragon’s Den, to some sort of meeting. She had a feeling she knew what the meeting was about: Sher. He would not let Freya go so easily. He would fight for her. Freya hoped she wasn’t placed in front of all these people and blamed.
The guards led the line of prisoners into an auditorium. It was a very large room that was full of people. The prisoners were led to a section along one side where no one else was sitting. From what Freya could hear, no one there knew what this meeting was about. They were talking and whispering to one another, discussing their thoughts. Most of them seemed to think it was about some sort of explosion that had happened before Freya had arrived. From what Freya could put together, the explosion had been the cause of the smoke she had seen. It also made the people living on this ship extremely nervous. Freya didn’t like nervous people.
Once Freya was seated, she took the time to study the area. There was one large entrance at the back of the auditorium, and two smaller ones on either side of the stage. No one was entering the space through the smaller ones, so they were likely service entrances, leading to the ship’s less polished pathways. Above her was an upper deck of seating, but she could see only one entry to it on the far side. There was likely another entryway above her, and she noted the staircase leading up near the main doors. From the angle she was on, Freya couldn’t see much behind the stage. She guessed there were exits back there leading to the service passageways, but she had no way of knowing for sure. If forced, the door to the side of the stage nearest her was the best escape route. She had no idea what was beyond it, but thought it was better than taking a risk backstage, or trying to get past the many people between her and the main entrance.
With all the exits located, Freya took a moment to take in everything else. She saw that no one here was being treated as a lesser being than anyone else was. These people probably grouped themselves based on their jobs, or who they knew before getting on board the ship, but there was no distinct underclass. Other than the prisoners, everyone got to sit wherever they chose. Despite the general feeling of nervous tension, several people were laughing and smiling, telling jokes here and there. They were comfortable.
Looking up at the stage again, it was obvious some sort of play was being planned. There were large boards with partial backgrounds painted on them, some of them still in the process of being changed from one background into another. These people put on plays. Freya couldn’t remember the last time she had seen someone put so much work into something whose only function was entertainment. She was going to keep obeying the rules on this ship. Based on what she had seen so far, she wanted to be like these people.
After about ten minutes, five men walked out on stage. The crowd of people quieted down in a hurry, and those still standing quickly found a place to sit. There were more people than chairs, and so many of them just sat on the floor in the aisles. Freya recognized two of the men on stage as those who had talked to her when she arrived. The other two she didn’t know, but it was clear that they were in command. With distaste, Freya noted that none of them was female.
“I know you’re all wondering why you’ve been called down here,” one of the men started. It was the man who had talked to Sher. “There are some things going on that we would like to bring to your attention.”
Freya listened with interest to the information that followed. They started off by saying they didn’t know who had caused the bombing yet, but they were looking for a person of interest named Hanna. It was emphasized that Hanna may have had nothing to do with the bombing, and that they just wanted to talk to her. If anyone saw her, or had any information about where she might be, they were encouraged to tell someone called a ship defender. Freya figured that a ship defender must be something like a police officer. The people were likewise told to come forward if they could think of anything that might be related to the bombing.
A moment of silence was held for those who had been killed by the bomb. Their names were read, and it was announced that a memorial of sorts had been set up in the picture shop. The names of the injured were also read, and their states of recovery were given. It sounded like they would all pull through. Freya could feel the wave of relief that went through the people upon learning that there were unlikely to be any more casualties from the bombing.
The next point they touched on only briefly. Apparently, some kids had slipped away from school and were running around unsupervised. Freya was amazed that this place had such an arrangement. An actual school for the children. At least that explained why she hadn’t seen any kids yet; they were off learning somewhere. It was announced that anyone who saw them should report it, and if possible, return them to class.
With those updates given, they came to the meat of the meeting.
“As some of you have already heard, we have a new member on board.” Boyle was speaking again, and he looked directly at Freya. “You’ll have a chance to meet her once she’s out of quarantine, but I’m certain she’ll make an excellent addition to our extremely extended family.”
Freya felt uncomfortable as a few people turned to look, but she remained calm on the outside, refusing to squirm or fidget. She wasn’t going to show any weakness to these people.
They didn’t look for long, as Boyle moved on. He mentioned that accompanying Freya were two men whose admittance they hadn’t allowed. The gathering was told about the threats the men had made as they left. They were then told about the intercepted radio communication.
Freya sat up straighter at this. She remembered seeing the other cruise ship when Sher had driven them into the area, but it had an abandoned look. Apparently, Sher had driven over there, instead of trying to make his way home. Freya mentally chastised herself for not thinking about it sooner. Of course, he would have gone to the other ship. The little aluminium boat didn’t have enough gas to make it back, not to mention their lack of radio communications. The big ship had both.
A man Freya didn’t recognize had taken over the speaking at this poin
t. He explained the threat as he knew it, which caused an uncomfortable ripple through the crowd. It seemed they had dealt with pirates before, but they were smart enough to realize that Sher was no mere pirate. He practically had an army. It wouldn’t be long before one of those five men came to Freya to ask questions about how many boats and fighters Sher had.
There was a pause, as the five men seemed unsure who should deliver whatever news was coming next. In the end, it was the other man whom Freya did not know. He was clearly not military like the others appeared to be. He explained that shortly after the meeting they were going to fire up the ship’s engines and head for the mainland.
The people were unsure how to react to this. Many of them were confused.
The man on stage went on to explain that they weren’t going there to raid coastal cities, like they had apparently done several years back before coming to the islands. They were going to something called a dry dock, which would lift the big ship out of the water or something to that effect, and allow them to make any needed repairs. This meant being on the mainland for some time.
Several people in the crowd began speaking at once. Some were delighted at this idea, some were horrified, and a great many had questions. The men on stage settled the crowd down, and said they’d answer any questions provided they were given in an orderly fashion. This meant one would have to raise his or her hand and wait to be called upon.
Freya found the whole process very interesting. Sher would never allow such an open forum, where people could ask questions and state their concerns. Not only that, but the men in charge were very kind with their answers. They provided as much information as they could, without ever once belittling the person who spoke. No question was a dumb question.