Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (7 page)

“I’m sorry,” Judith said. “Did she . .
. ?
”
Judith didn’t want to complete the sentence, even in light of the fact that
most of the people she knew had probably died today. That still didn’t feel
real.

“Oh, no!” Nora said. “Nothing like that. The bitch got cold feet a few
months ago and dumped me. I paid for the cruise, though, so I decided I’d go
anyway and have a bang-up time. Guess the joke’s on me after all.”

“Do you think she made it?” Judith asked.

Nora sighed. “Yeah, she’s probably fine. She lives in Boston now.”

“Do you think you’d want to see her again?” Judith asked. She thought
of her own strained relationship with her parents. Despite everything, she
desperately wanted to hear their voices. She wished things had been different
between them. She’d even be happy to see her insipid stepfather.

“Sure, why not?” Nora said. “I’m over it. God, I could sleep for a
week. I had no idea apocalyptic disasters could be so exhausting.” She flipped
over in bed and burrowed beneath the covers, so that Judith could only see the
bright pink of her hair.

Judith didn’t answer. She lay on the bed, still in her borrowed
Catalina
sweats, and pulled the blanket
up to her chin.

Scenes from San Diego began to curl in the air above her like smoke.
The screams. The pure terror on faces she barely registered as she ran after
Simon. Esther’s pigtails bobbing like a beacon in front of her. She saw the
animal fear in the pregnant woman’s eyes. The bared teeth of the tall sailor as
he pulled up the gangway behind them. The thick eyebrows of the man in the
warship’s crow’s nest as it shot past them and blasted through the civilian
ships. As she drifted to sleep, she imagined the veins pulsing in the little
baby’s head, changing from blue to red to ashy gray as consciousness fled.

Chapter 7—Day Two

Judith

Early the next morning
Nora roused Judith from bed
and dragged her back to the reception computer. There was no Internet. No
matter what Nora tried, she couldn’t get a connection. Her eyes grew bloodshot
as she stared at the computer screen, trying to find some way to break through
to the rest of the world. The blank web browser was worse than static screaming
through an old TV.

Judith fetched food and coffee for both of them from the dining hall,
where bleary-eyed passengers asked each other if they’d been dreaming. They
huddled together and stared out at the empty sea. When they left San Diego,
they’d been in the company of dozens of other ships, all speeding away from the
shore. But now they were alone. Judith wondered if the other captains thought
they’d be able to head back to the mainland rather than sailing straight for
Hawaii.

The sky swirled with multicolored clouds. A thick layer of grime coated
the windows. Judith couldn’t tell if she was seeing real volcanic ash above
them or if those were storm clouds. How long would it take the ash to fill the
whole atmosphere? Those purple-black skies definitely weren’t normal. The sea
was unsettled too, and it made Judith queasy to think about how far from land
they were. How deep was the sea here? She was so used to being able to look up
answers for questions like that in an instant. She had never felt so cut off
from the world.

She returned to the reception lobby, balancing a pair of bagels on top
of overflowing coffee cups. She sat and sipped at the bitter liquid while Nora
tapped away at the keyboard. Images from her nightmares rose before her, but
she shook them off like mosquitoes.

When passersby spotted Nora and Judith at the computer, they begged to
have a turn.

“My phone’s not working.”

“My laptop won’t connect.”

“I paid extra to have Internet on the cruise. What gives?”

“I need to reach my family. Please let me use the computer.”

They had to turn everyone away, explaining that there was no
connection, they were trying,
they’d
let everyone know
if they got through. Over and over they watched faces fall as the others
realized they’d have to wait even longer for answers. One woman burst into
tears, and Judith had to search the drawers of the reception desk for tissues.
She wasn’t sure what else to do.

After more than an hour of trying to access the Internet, Nora pushed
away from the desk.

“Impossible. I can’t get through. This computer is shitty.”

“Do you think there’s a better connection in the bridge? Maybe they’ve
been able to get online,” Judith said, thinking of the double row of computer
consoles she’d seen the day before.

“Maybe,” Nora said. “But if the satellite signals aren’t getting
through, it won’t be any better up there.”

“It’s worth a try, though, right? We could see if they’ve heard
anything on the radio.”

“Sure, why not?” Nora said. “I’m not making any progress here.”

They followed the same route to the bridge Judith had taken the day
before. The corridors were crowded with other passengers.
Should I be calling us survivors?
Most looked as if they didn’t
quite believe what was going on. One woman wandered around with the cruise
schedule clutched in her hand, asking what time the bingo started. A couple of
children ran through the corridors, screaming and laughing as if nothing had happened,
their parents nowhere to be seen.

The ship felt surreal. Inside, it was like walking down the hallways of
a hotel. Judith experienced a jolt of surprise whenever they passed a window
revealing the rolling expanse of the sea beyond.

She couldn’t help feeling nervous when they pushed through a door
marked “Cruise Staff Only” on their way to the bridge. She disliked breaking
rules. She wished Manny the porter was with them. She hadn’t seen him since
yesterday, when he’d delivered a too-short list of crew names to their table
for sorting.

When Judith and Nora entered the bridge, the captain wasn’t there. The
room was nearly empty, and they had a perfect view of the sea in front of them.
The skies swirled unnaturally, blue and purple and gray.

The woman with the brunette pixie cut stood up from a computer
terminal.

“What are you doing here? The bridge is off-limits.”

“It’s
Ren
, right?” Judith said. “I’m Judith.
I was in here yesterday. We were wondering if you’ve had any updates from land.
Is the captain around?”

Ren
appeared to want to send them away, but then her
shoulders relaxed a little. “I don’t suppose it matters if I tell you this,”
she said. “The captain went on a bender up in the lounge last night. He’s still
sleeping it off. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Nora. She’s been trying to access the Internet, but we haven’t
been able to get on at all this morning.”

“Computers are down,”
Ren
said.

“I got one working yesterday in the lobby,” Nora said. “We even had the
net for a few minutes. Checked the BBC and everything.” She fiddled with her
tortoise earring as she met
Ren’s
eyes.

“How’d you manage that?”
Ren
said. “The hotel
units are password protected.”

“I know my way around computers.”

“You shouldn’t be messing about with ship property,”
Ren
said.

Judith detected a bit of a Canadian accent in
Ren’s
voice when she said “about.”

“We just wanted news,” Judith said.

Ren
sighed. “I guess all the other regulations are out
the window. I haven’t been able to get a connection today either. We’re moving
at a good pace toward Hawaii, though. We can get our answers there.”

“Can we wait for the captain to come in?” Judith asked. She wanted
someone to take charge, someone with experience and authority and a uniform.

“Suit yourselves. Just don’t touch anything.”
Ren
sat back down at her computer and put her feet on the next console. Nora and
Judith waited hopefully in the aisle. It was hard to believe there weren’t more
people here, given that the ship was still moving.

“You might as well sit,”
Ren
said. “In fact,
wanna
have a go at this computer? It’s on a different
system than the hotel ones. Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”

“Sure.” Nora moved to the computer beside
Ren
.
Soon Nora’s fingers were flying across the keys and
Ren
was leaning over her shoulder, watching in admiration.

Judith sat in a swivel chair nearby. “What about other ships?” she
asked. “Have you talked to anyone on the radio?”

“
Vinny
is up in the broadcast tower now.
He’ll let me know on the ’
com
if there’s any big
news.”
Ren
gestured at the intercom set in her console,
keeping her attention on what Nora was doing.

“What was the last thing he heard?” Judith asked.

“More or less what the captain told you yesterday. Definitely
Yellowstone. The eruption wiped out communications to half the world. All
militaries are on high-level alert.”

“We saw on the net that the navy is gathering in Pearl Harbor,” Nora
said, looking up from the screen to meet
Ren’s
eyes
for a second. A shadow of a grin flitted across her face.

“Yeah? Then you know more than me,”
Ren
said.
“
Vinny
got a warship on the radio late last night,
but they wouldn’t tell him anything.”

“Why not?” Judith asked.

“They don’t want to help us.”

“What?”

“They’re looking out for their own right now. This isn’t a US vessel,
technically. Most ships are registered offshore for the looser regulations. I
guess it’s coming back to bite them.”

Judith didn’t believe it.
That’s
what the military is for. Of course they want to help us.
She had always
found something comforting in the routines and hierarchy of the military. Most
of the people on board were
US
citizens, no matter
where the ship was registered. They’d find the help they needed in Pearl
Harbor.

Judith and Nora stayed in the bridge with
Ren
.
She was a bit brusque, but she didn’t seem to mind their company.
Ren
and Nora bonded quickly over the computers.
Ren
showed her how the internal system operated and
monitored most of the ship’s essential functions. She explained that it actually
took very few people to sail the ship now that most things were automated, and
the main control room was actually down on a lower level next to the engine room.
Ren
herself was a navigator, which was why she was
stationed in the bridge. Her family was from Toronto, but she’d had no contact
with them since the disaster.

Judith studied the logbooks and emergency manuals she found in the
bridge. She needed to keep busy. She hated waiting, staring out at the rough
seas and angry skies. She bent over the books, where page after page described
the official procedures for all likely
seabound
emergencies. But what had happened yesterday was unprecedented. There were no
guidelines for an apocalypse.

When Captain
Martinelli
finally returned, he
squinted at them, then walked unsteadily to the front windows and lit a
cigarette. Judith approached him cautiously.

“Sir, we got everyone settled with food and somewhere to sleep last
night,” she said. “What should we do with the passengers today?”

The captain put one hand to his head and waved the other like he was
trying to swat a gnat.

“I don’t want to deal with passengers,” he grumbled. “I have a ship to
sail.”

“But we need to tell them something,” Judith said. “Maybe you could
come—”

“Get someone else. That Simon fellow was keen.”

“But he doesn’t have any
infor
— ”

“Just sort yourselves out,” the captain snapped. He inhaled through his
cigarette and squeezed his eyes shut.

How could he just wash his hands of them like that? Weren’t there codes
of honor or something for ship captains? Judith wondered if he might have
cracked a bit. His quick action had gotten them away from the rush of ash, but
maybe he should have just taken them south to another port. Did they really
have to sail all the way across the ocean to Hawaii?

Captain
Martinelli
continued to smoke and
glare at the waves. Finally, Judith got frustrated and went to see if she could
help Simon. As she left the bridge, she vowed that if things ever went back to
normal she’d never go on a cruise for as long as she lived.

Simon

Simon
had selected an empty crew cabin with two twin beds for himself and Esther.
They didn’t need much space. They were lucky to have a small window, little
more than a porthole in the base of the ship. Esther slept soundly the first
night, but she asked for her mother when she woke. Simon held her and allowed
himself
to picture Nina’s soft face and imagine the feel of
her hands, the smell of her perfume. Grief threatened to pull him under, but he
couldn’t allow that, not when he had Esther to look after.

Esther gripped his hand as they headed down the corridor for breakfast.
She kept pulling him off to examine things: luggage carts, doorways into
service areas, even diagrams of the ship, with emergency exits marked in red.
She seemed fascinated by this new world, but Simon worried about how the trauma
of what had happened yesterday would affect her. He just had to focus on
getting them through the next few days. He held her hand tighter.

As soon as they arrived in the dining hall, people began coming to
Simon with questions and grievances:
Where
is the medical center? My neighbor kept me awake with her crying all night. My
kid is seasick. This asshole is hoarding food. I want to go home.

Perhaps because he had been the first to stand up and speak, news
spread fast that people should go to Simon with their problems. He welcomed the
distraction. He picked up the names of his fellow passengers quickly, like he
always had with his students. He did his best to mediate disputes and connect
people with others who could help them with their problems.

The nurse’s name is Laura.
She’s in the clinic on Deck 4. Ask for Willow Weathers. She can tell help you
find more blankets. I don’t know about that, but ask for a crewman named
Reggie. I noticed a sign for a chapel. Take a look around Deck 7.

Simon tried to get to know the ship quickly so he could help out,
Esther tagging along behind him. The
Catalina
was less than six hundred feet long and had only ten decks. She had space for
everyone, but it was tight. Many of the runners had found places to sleep in
the crew cabins, and a handful camped on the massage tables in the little spa
on the fifth deck. The space was a bit claustrophobic, but Simon preferred the
depths of the ship to the unnatural sky outside. Most people avoided the outer
decks, fearful that the air was poisoned.