Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (8 page)

Judith found him midmorning and reported that the captain refused to
become involved with the passengers. He immediately took Judith’s report to Ana
Ivanovna
, the highest-ranking person remaining from
the original hotel staff. Simon found her in the galley with a clipboard
balanced on one arm, busy taking inventory of a huge freezer. When he reported
the captain’s abdication of responsibility, Ana scowled and chewed at her
maroon-painted lips.

“I handle the food and rations. You keep the people out of trouble,”
she said.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” Simon said. It was all well and good for
people to come to him to resolve arguments, but that was different than keeping
the entire ship running. He was a teacher first and foremost, not a leader.

“Is only for a few days,” she said. “You treat them like it is summer
camp.”

“But maybe you could—”

“I am busy up to my eyeball,” Ana said. She waved the clipboard at
Simon and slammed the freezer door. A rush of cold air swept over them. “You
must do this.”

Simon had no desire whatsoever to become a cruise director. He left Ana
to her work and headed back out to the dining hall. The people at the tables
talked in low voices, staring out at the grim sky. But one group looked up and
waved at Simon. It was little
Adi
Kapur
with his mother and father. Both parents kept reaching over to touch their son
on his head or shoulders, as if to remind themselves that they were still
together. They must be scared too, but it was more important to be strong for
their child.

Esther waited for Simon at another table, her legs swinging because
they were too short to reach the floor. Simon stood a little straighter. Ana was
right: it was only a few days. He could keep things running smoothly until they
reached Hawaii.

He started out by asking everyone to clean
their
own cabins and bathrooms. It didn’t seem right for the remaining cleaning staff
to do it. Some of the passengers objected, but he brooked no argument.

“These people are survivors just like you,” he told a particularly
combative cruise passenger when she waved her gold frequent-cruiser card under
his nose and demanded room service. “We all have to do our part.”

The porters did help care for the common areas, though, keeping things
relatively orderly, and some of the passengers pitched in with that too. Simon
sent extra able-bodied men to help Reggie and the crew clear the ash away from
the ship’s outer vents. Eventually they’d get to the decks too. Having chores
would help keep people from sitting and staring endlessly at the sea, letting
their worries overwhelm them.

As the days passed and they started to run out of areas of the ship to
clean, Simon encouraged the passengers and crew to make use of the books, table
games, cinema, and other kinds of entertainment on the ship. Willow Weathers,
the lounge singer, opened up the cruise director’s storage compartments to
bring out more games and activities. She even led a yoga class in the middle of
the plaza a few times.

People were more likely to complain if they had nothing to do, and they
were far more likely to despair. When Simon saw Frank Fordham drifting
aimlessly around the plaza on the third day, still inquiring whether anyone had
seen his son, he asked him to check out the ship’s desalination system and
report back. Frank had walked away with purpose. Simon himself felt that as
long as he kept moving, his own grief wouldn’t catch up to him either.
At least not yet.

Esther kept close to Simon’s heels, and soon she was predicting his
answers to the people who came to him for guidance. When she wasn’t following
her father, she attached herself to Judith, who was proving to be quite
capable. She was clearheaded and organized, and she had no qualms about telling
people what to do. With Judith’s help, Simon got everyone to fall into what was
more or less a routine.

In a way they were lucky to be such a small group. The final head count
had settled at 1,114. He could only imagine the disorder and panic that must be
rolling through the surviving cities back on land, where the sheer numbers
would overwhelm. Here it was like they were a small town dealing with their
problems together.

It wasn’t entirely smooth sailing on the
Catalina
. Each individual was fragile in a different way, whether
angry or distressed or just scared. The lack of information was the worst part.
The days had a grim, gloomy look to them, and the nights were pitch black.
Simon hadn’t seen a single star since they’d been at sea. But by the end of the
third day Simon felt they had managed the crisis fairly well. No one in
their
little world had died or gotten into any serious
fights. Soon they’d be back on land, and he would find out what had happened to
the rest of his family no matter what it took.

Chapter 8—
The Storm

Simon

The evening before they
were scheduled to arrive in
Hawaii, Simon and Judith lingered in the Atlantis Dining Hall after dinner.
They’d eaten only vegetables again today. Ana
Ivanovna
was determined to conserve all the canned and imperishable food and use up anything
that wouldn’t keep. The ship was stocked for a seven-day voyage, and cruise
ships always carried more than enough food for the all-you-can-eat buffets, but
Ana wanted to be extra-careful just in case.

The sky had grown night dark. The seas were rough, the ship rolling
more than usual. The
Catalina
was big
enough that the movement didn’t affect them too much, but tonight it felt
different, unsettled. The dining hall was warm, though, and they talked about
what they’d do when they got to Hawaii the next day if the planes were still
grounded.

“I might get a job to tide me over,” Judith said. “And then see if I
can make my way to the East Coast.
Or maybe Europe.
I’d like to work in London.”

“I’m not sure anyone will be hiring,” Simon said.

“It’s not going to be that bad, is it?” Judith asked. “They always say
things will be worse than they are. Don’t you think everything will have calmed
down by the time we get to Hawaii?”

Simon’s glass of water slid across the table. He caught it and took a
sip.

“I don’t know, Judith. There’s no precedent for this.”

“But the worst is over,” she said. “Now it’s time to rebuild.”

The ship lurched. Lightning flashed outside the window, still far away.

“I don’t know if the worst is over,” Simon said.

“What do you mean?”

“The darkness. The ash. I think there will be repercussions from the
volcano that stretch beyond the US.”

No one had managed to access the Internet that day. With the
communication links down, there was no way of knowing what was going on in the
world. They were totally isolated.

Lightning cracked again, closer this time. It lit the sea with shimmers
of white and blue. Wind howled against the large windows.

Esther skipped over from the buffet table.

“Hi, Judith. Hi, Daddy. Ana said I could have an extra piece of
cornbread.”

Simon smiled at his young daughter. She had been exploring the ship
more and more. She’d know every nook and cranny soon. It was nice that he
didn’t have to worry too much about her wandering off, as there was nowhere for
her to go.

“That looks good, button. Did you say thank you?”

“Yup,” Esther said. “Ana says we can stay on the ship when we get to
Hawaii if we want to. She says it’s like a hotel.”

“That’s an idea,” Simon said. “Maybe we’ll do that.”

“Are you excited about Hawaii, Judith?” Esther asked. She was still
wearing her Thomas shirt. Simon hadn’t had the heart to make her change.

“I guess so,” Judith said, grinning at the little girl.

“Oh, I got to hold baby
Cally
today!” Esther
said as she dug her fingers into her cornbread. “She’s so small. And she sounds
like a kitty when she cries. Her mommy says I can be her ornery sister if I
want to.”

“Honorary sister?” Simon asked.

“Yeah, that!”

“That’s nice of her.”

“I want to be a good big sister,” Esther said. “Just like
Namie
.”

Simon exchanged glances with Judith over Esther’s head. He felt a
twinge in his chest at the sound of his other daughter’s nickname. Esther still
hadn’t shed any tears over her mother and sister. He wasn’t sure whether he
should prepare her
more,
impress the likely truth upon
her. It would catch up to her in a painful way eventually if she didn’t accept
their loss.

Based on what Simon had seen of the cloud descending over San Diego and
the confirmation that it was volcanic ash, he knew no one could have survived
in their city. He still held on to the shimmering hope that Nina and Naomi
might have driven out of San Diego and headed south in a hurry, but he couldn’t
think of a plausible reason why they would. He and Nina had been stressed and
prone to snapping at each other lately, but she would never have taken Naomi
and left him. He almost wished she were the type just so he could hold on to a
sliver of hope that they had survived.

Rain had begun to fall. The storm was getting worse. Simon could barely
see anything through the windows. The sky was a writhing, living black. The
ship rolled hard, and Judith reached out a hand to protect Esther’s head from
swinging into the back of her chair. Esther smiled brightly at her, unafraid.

“Judith, can you be
my
ornery
big sister until we find Naomi?”

Judith looked startled. Simon had noticed a reticence about her. She kept
her emotions under tight control. But Esther didn’t seem to mind.

“
Please
,
Judy.”

“Um, I guess I can,” Judith said.

The wind picked up, howling around them like a wolf in the darkness.
Empty chairs—and some occupied ones—began to slide across the floor
as the ship lurched. People around the dining hall exchanged worried looks.
This was not good.

Simon stood, holding on to the table. His chair fell backwards onto the
floor with a crash.

“Everyone,” he called. “I think we should go back to our cabins and
wait this out.”

The wind shrieked, and the ship rocked more violently still. Plates and
glasses crashed to the floor. The heavy tables began to slide back and forth
across the room. Chairs banged against each other, and someone screamed. Then
people were jumping up, panicking, stumbling toward the doors, grabbing on to
whatever they could.

“Be careful of the glass!” Simon yelled
,
his
voice swallowed by the howls of the wind and the sea. “Stay calm!”

He reached for Esther’s hand, but she tumbled away from his grasp,
rolling like a potato bug as the ship swayed.

“Esther!”

A table shot across the floor between them, cutting him off. Simon
crouched low, trying to keep his balance. There was a scream from the other
side of the hall as another sliding table pinned a woman against the wall. The
lights flickered.

“Esther!” Simon yelled. He could barely tell who was who in the chaos.
He clung to a pillar for support. He couldn’t lose his other daughter. He had
to keep her safe. She was the only thing that mattered now.

The ship tossed like a rag doll in a washing machine. Waves crashed
into it, jarring, erratic. People clung to support pillars, the floor, each
other. Glass and porcelain shattered. Food tumbled across the floor, which
glittered with shards of glass. A collection of dinner rolls bounced back and
forth.

Suddenly, a table rolled sideways across the dining hall and crashed
through the tall sea-facing windows. Water and wind surged through the opening.
Another table pitched through a window further along, shattering it too. Wave
upon wave assaulted the opening, the water rushing in and out of the dining
hall.

“Esther!” Simon shouted.

He searched the darkness frantically. The crack of thunder and roar of
the waves drowned out people’s screams. The
Catalina
tipped sideways, dipping into a deep, dark trough. They tilted, the floor
tipping past a forty-five-degree angle. An elderly man lost his grip on a
support pillar and rolled toward the broken window. He disappeared into the
black hole, his screams lost in the howling sea.

“Esther! Where are you?”

Shadows and lightning flashed. People stumbled to and fro. Chaos.
Confusion.

“Esther!”

“I got her!” shouted a voice behind him. “Simon! Over here!”

He followed the voice, pulling himself around to the other side of the
pillar. Judith had Esther clutched in her bone-white hands. Relief squeezed at
Simon’s heart. Judith was wedged into an alcove to protect them both from the
tumbling furniture, Esther’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Esther’s
eyes were bright with fear and excitement. Lightning flashed across her face.

Simon waited for the next roll of the waves and then lurched across the
floor and fell to his knees in front of them.

“Are you girls okay?”

“Yes,” Judith said, her face white. “Are we going to sink?”

Simon didn’t answer. He lodged himself in front of the alcove, his body
between Esther and Judith and the torrent of icy water that burst through the
broken windows every time the ship rolled. The others were taking refuge by
pillars and in alcoves or stumbling toward the relative safety of the corridor.

“Daddy,” Esther shouted. “I feel sick.”

“We’ll be all right. It’s okay if you need to throw up.”

Esther’s face turned green, but she kept her mouth clenched shut. Simon
met Judith’s eyes over her head and mouthed
thank you
.
She nodded, her jaw set and eyes wide. She
didn’t let go of the little girl.

Simon gripped the edges of the alcove, his
whole body tense, trying to protect them from the tossing sea.
The dining hall had
transformed into a watery hell. The remaining emergency lights swam beneath
seawater as wave after wave surged through the broken windows. Each time the water
retreated it dragged glass and food and chairs with it. Pale faces peered out
from corners, some covered in blood. Several people vomited as the rolling of
the ship continued unabated.

There was no way to move, no way to run for a more protected part of
the ship—or the lifeboats. They weren’t safe anywhere now.

Judith

The
storm was endless. Judith felt like she had always been there, huddled in that
alcove with Esther and Simon, holding on against the sea. She didn’t know how
long the tempest actually lasted, but it felt like days. She silently begged
the waves to abate. She hated the utter lack of control she felt, never knowing
which way the sea would toss them next. They had to make it through. She wanted
to live.

Hours passed, but eventually she became aware of the waves lessening.
They weren’t throwing her quite as hard against the walls. She didn’t have to
tense as much against the churn. Finally—
finally
—t
he
sea was beginning to calm.

Simon put a hand on her arm. “Judith? I think it’s safe enough to
move.” His voice was hoarse, and he was shivering violently.

Judith was almost too numb to feel the cold. Almost. Her sweater and
yoga pants were damp and stiff. Salt coated her face from the water that had
come through the broken window. The ship still tossed in the waves, but the
violence had abated over the hours. Miraculously, Esther had fallen asleep, her
chubby arms still wrapped around Judith’s waist.

“Is the storm over?” Judith asked.

“It’s a bit calmer at least,” Simon said. “Let’s get everyone out of
here.”

Judith slowly extracted herself from Esther’s grip and stood. Pins shot
through her legs like lightning. Simon offered her a hand to steady her, then
knelt to wake his daughter.

The sea was still rough, but they were no longer in danger of hurtling
out of the broken window. Judith shivered. She had seen two people disappear
into the darkness throughout the night. She hoped she never had to see
something like that again.

They made their way painfully out of the alcove, keeping to the edge of
the dining hall. They roused the people crouched around the room, urging them
to take shelter deeper in the ship.

 
Judith found the woman
she’d met in the plaza with her son, Neal, crouched by a support pillar. She
shook worse than a sail in a storm.

“Get up,” Judith said. “You’ll be safer and warmer in your cabin.”

“I can’t . . .” The woman’s teeth chattered so hard she could barely
speak. “He doesn’t want to move, and I can’t carry him. I hurt my knee.”

“Tell him he has to move,” Judith snapped, more harshly than she
intended. They had to get somewhere warm.
She
had to get somewhere warm.

“Neal, honey,” the
woman
whispered. The
mousy-haired boy was curled up with his arms around his head, looking like a
drowned rat. “Come on, sweetie, we need to get up.”

Neal shook his head, trembling.

“Get up,” Judith said again. “We have other people to take care of.”

“I can help.”

Esther appeared at Judith’s elbow. Her face had a red mark from where
it had rubbed against Judith’s salt-roughened sweater. She crouched down beside
little Neal and poked him in the ribs.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

The boy peered out from beneath his arms. In the semidarkness his eyes
looked like luminous jellyfish.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I asked you first,” Esther said. Then she started tugging on the boy’s
arm. “Let’s go. I can show you a safe place to hide. It’s really warm down
there.”