The Devil’s Peak II, page 11
Ferrel turned away, and grabbed up one of the ship’s internal mics and started issuing orders.
“Four thousand feet,” Freshman said. “Bearing is unchanged and still approaching from the east.”
Drinkwater watched as Ferrel and an armed man made their way onto the foredeck. He quickly and quietly escorted a few passengers who had been milling around to below deck, and then they took up a position close to the bow.
The captain lifted his glasses, watching for it now, his curiosity eating at him.
Freshman counted off the feet now to contact. And then finally Captain Drinkwater saw the dot appear on the horizon.
The thing came at them quickly, a black dot became a smudge, that became a buzzing bristling thing.
Ferrel and his armed man ducked as the massive insect landed on the deck. Its wings shivered and then folded.
“It’s a fly,” Drinkwater scoffed. “A gigantic goddamn fly.”
Ferrel approached it, and his man had a pistol trained on it. The fly shivered its wings again, and Drinkwater craned his neck and stared through his binoculars – the fly didn’t have those large muti faceted eyes or ugly hairy face he expected, but instead seemed to have a small round pink face. Almost human-like.
Drinkwater wished he had a bug expert to tell him what exactly he was dealing with here. Maybe they should try and catch it, he thought.
Out on deck, Ferrel flapped his arms at it, but the fly wasn’t scared away. And why would it be? It seemed bigger and more formidable than the puny human trying to scare it away.
Ferrel took off his jacket and furiously flapped it at the monstrous thing, and then got within a dozen feet of it. And this time he got a reaction – the fly took off, not away from them, but straight at the pair of men, bowling over the guard before he could fire a shot, and picking up Ferrel in its multiple legs and flying off with him.
Ferrel screamed as the thing circled the deck and then dropped his second in command. Even from where they were they saw the blood smearing his shirt collar from the bite it had inflicted on him.
The fly zoomed overhead again, and then dropped to pass around the entire sides of the ship. Drinkwater rushed to the side trying to see where it went while also yelling orders for the injured men on deck to get assistance.
In the last seconds he had sight of it, he saw it come back around to the deck area of the ship. It headed straight for an open deck door where he knew the passengers were undoubtedly still milling around unaware of what was unfolding aboard the North Star liner.
Drinkwater lowered his glasses, his mouth hanging open.
Finally, he turned. “Get me a security team. We’re going after it.”
CHAPTER 17
New York, Manhattan – Manhattan Cruise Terminal, 12th Avenue
Benny Brown snatched up the ringing phone that was driving him nuts. “What?”
He was one of the Port Authority managers and right now at 6pm, things should have been quietening down, not going bananas.
His brows came together. “Say again?”
He turned to slowly look out the window of the two-story building overlooking the passenger terminals.
The cruise liner, the North Star, was ignoring its tug and coming in toward the dock, and still steaming in way too fast.
He glared, working the angles. In fact it looked like it was going to miss the dock all together and come in hard up at Pier 97 on the Hudson River Park.
“Sonoffabitch.” He turned. “Steve, we got a damn runaway.”
In seconds more things happened fast – this type of event wasn’t usual, but was not unheard of, as many boats lost steering, or power, or the engines overcooked, or a hundred other things happened that would throw off their guidance and control as they came in to dock.
Benny couldn’t remember how many repairs the dock had undergone over the years from misadventure. But right now, what concerned him was the North Star was coming in on the park, not too bad at this time of year as it was cooler and there would be less tourists. But the strange thing was no one onboard was answering – the entire ship seemed to have gone dark.
Benny scrambled his team and shouted into the phone as he watched the slow motion disaster unfolding.
Already there was a chopper overhead, a few drones capturing images, and the police onsite trying to evacuate the area.
He counted down the seconds as the massive thousand-foot, pristine white juggernaut of a vessel weighing in at about 120,000 gross tonnage came at them.
“Hold onto your fucking hats,” Benny whispered.
Benny, and a few of the other office workers crowded at the windows and watched as the ship impacted with the Pier 97 water wall.
The North Star first cut a huge V into the wall ploughing in a good twenty feet before lifting slightly as the engines were still engaged and giving it power.
It kept going, ploughing up a few hundred feet of parkland before coming to a stop and he could see the churn of the propellor as it boiled the water behind as it continued to try and push the massive vessel forward.
Benny had binoculars to his eyes and still didn’t see a single person on deck, or in the still well-lit wheelhouse.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he scowled.
First step was he had to get bodies onboard and turn the engines off before they overheated. Then he had to find someone in charge on that boat and kick their fucking butts.
Benny spent the next few hours coordinating the responses from the fire brigade, the local police, customs and immigration.
The first thing they did was fly drones over the top deck, and the magnificent little busy body machines peered in windows, and looked for open doorways. They found no sign of anyone, though it was important to note that all the ship’s lights were on, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of an attack at sea.
Next up, they needed to drop a couple of naval engineers on board plus a couple of armed support, and Benny would also attend and supervise himself.
He wanted to get onboard quickly before the ship’s owners arrived and tried to take over the scene.
Not on his watch. He’d ensure culpability would be apportioned without fear or favor.
The chopper came down in the park, and the small group crouch ran under the blades and jumped in.
The chopper would be able to land on deck even though the huge ship was resting at a slight angle and being buffeted by the push of the still operating engines.
The pilot touched down lightly and they scurried out. Benny looked up, and saw that the sky was filled with drones – nearly all the local media organs had them, the police had them, as well as every Tom, Dick, and Harry with a few hundred bucks could get one and fly it right up to your bedroom window.
The first thing the group wanted to do was head to the bridge. Thankfully the deck doors weren’t locked and the team of five went in. Immediately it was warmer and quieter, and the engineers went straight to the master console and checked the equipment.
Salvatore Mangione and Bella Azzopardi quickly saw there was plenty of fuel, all systems were online, and the communication system was still functioning normally.
Mangione went to the main computer and called up the ship’s notes – not quite the captain’s log, but it contained details of the operations that the senior officers regularly entered.
“Captain Robert Drinkwater,” Mangione said. “Crew of forty-eight, and… four hundred luxury end passengers.” He turned. “Everything online and working fine.”
“Yeah, just a few things missing,” Benny growled. “Like Captain Drinkwater, his team, and all those passengers.”
“Gotta be somewhere on here,” Mangione said.
Benny quickly checked the ship’s online schematic and stepped back. “Well then,” he said. “Let’s go find them.”
***
The ship was in four grand layers like a wedding cake – the top layer, the smallest, was for the wheelhouse, navigation, and instrumentation, and of course open deck entertainment.
The next level down was gaming, clubs, dining and catering. On down to floor three came to the cabin quarters for passengers and crew – in front was officers and first class, and rear for the crew and economy class. Next down was the engine room, workshops, storerooms, and maintenance. And then there was the lowest area, that was hardly a layer and was the bowels of the ship for ballast, waste, and some additional storage.
The group had walkie talkies and split into two teams. Benny went with one of the guards, Mike Jarvis, who was big, young and raw, and they would be team one. They would check the cabin quarters.
Team two was their two engineers, Mangione and Bella, and also the senior security, Allen Harper, who was oldest and most experienced. They’d check on the engine infrastructure in the bottom layer.
They all entered one of the elevators together – unlike buildings where the numbers rose the higher you went, it worked the opposite on a ship – the numbers elevated the lower you went.
“Creepy as fuck,” Benny said.
“This ever happened before?” Mangione asked.
Benny snorted, and then thought for a moment. “Yes.” He turned with a half-smile. “The Mary Celeste.”
“Oh, good one,” Bella laughed. “Hey, but seriously, you think they might have abandoned ship somehow?”
“Unlikely. All the lifeboats are still here. Not even the buoys are missing.” He looked up as the numbers slowly rose on the elevator panel. “And no, I don’t think aliens abducted them.” He turned to wink at her.
Benny and Mike stepped out on level three, and Mangione and his small group continued on down to four.
***
Benny had on his makeshift toolbelt that he had made himself. It contained a flashlight, some basic tools, and a taser. He wanted to be ready for anything.
He knew that Mike had a sidearm if they needed one, and though he doubted they would need it, the weirdness was unsettling.
Besides, things like piracy happened. Bad people could make everyone jump over the side without lifeboats. He just doubted it could have happened so close to the mainland, and if it didn’t, there was no way the boat could have threaded the needle and made it into the harbor so cleanly.
They came to the start of the first class cabins and Benny stopped and turned. “This is the first of the officer’s cabins. Might as well start here.”
He knocked – waited – then knocked again.
There was nothing so he tried the door and found it locked.
“Break it down?” Mike asked.
Benny shook his head. “Not just yet. Let’s try a few more.”
They went to the next and knocked again. And once again it was locked. On the third try they found the door ajar, and Benny eased it open.
“Hello? Port security,” he called.
There was no answer, and he raised his eyebrows at Mike who simply nodded. The pair went in.
“Shit!” Benny exclaimed
It was exactly what he didn’t want to find – chaos, sprayed blood, and torn clothing strewn everywhere.
He picked up some papers from the desk. “Cabin belonged to Lieutenant Ferrel, second in command.” He nodded to the washroom. “Check in there.”
Mike did as asked and pushed the door open. He coughed.
“Shit, this is just as bad.” Mike stood back.
Benny looked past him. The floor was covered in torn clothing that looked all greasy and stunk so bad it made his eyes water.
“What the hell happened here?” Mike asked with a forearm over his lower face.
Benny picked up a man’s jacket that was split down the back as though it had burst open. It was covered in something like a grey, sticky mucous.
“What happened here?” Benny dropped the jacket. “Something weird and bad.”
“We should call it in,” Mike said.
“Not yet. There’s over five hundred people on this ship and until we know something about their whereabouts, we hold off so we can calibrate our request. And their response.”
The pair continued with their search and the cabins they could get into and found almost half of them contained the same evidence of something inexplicable and violent happening – bloody, torn clothing, stinking mucous, and no people or bodies.
Back out in the hallway, Mike paused. “Where are they all?”
“My gut tells me they didn’t get off the boat.” Benny exhaled.
Mike turned. “Maybe they’re hiding.”
Benny grunted, not ruling anything out. “You might be right, but why? Or from who?”
“We need to let them know it’s safe to come out,” Mike replied.
Benny pointed. “Hey, I’ve got a plan. You keep looking and I’ll be back.”
Mike raised his eyebrows. “By myself?”
“Yeah, I’m going to the command deck to issue a general announcement to the entire ship. I’ll tell anyone and everyone to come out.” Benny began to fast walk back to the elevator. He turned and grinned. “Great idea by the way.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Mike grinned nervously. “Just hurry back.”
***
Mangione, Bella, and Allen Harper headed into the engine room and found the engines running hot, making the place an inferno.
“Gotta shut ‘em down,” Mangione yelled over the growl and hiss of the engines and hydraulics.
He rushed to the control panel and it was a simple procedure all controlled by a single shut-down switch. They needed to confirm their decision, and then the mighty beast of a machine seemed to sigh, and then settle to silence.
They looked around – the engine office, control room, and even maintenance bays which should have been a hive of activity with dozens of shipmen, engineers and maintenance workers, was empty.
“I don’t get it. Where are they all?” Bella said. “Where do you hide around five hundred people?”
“You don’t,” Mangione replied. “They’re still here, somewhere.”
He lifted a wrench, heavy, and big at around two feet long, that was discarded on the ground. He looked at it for a moment, and then walked to one of the large steel support girders.
“Let’s see what we got.” He banged three times on the girder, and it reverberated right throughout the ship.
They waited as the echo within the steel raced away.
He lifted the wrench to do it again.
“Wait.” Bella held up a hand.
He froze mid swing.
She had her head tilted. “Listen.”
They all stopped and even held their breath. At first there was nothing, but then there was the faint sound.
“Is that…crying?” Allen Harper asked.
Mangione turned about and then after a moment frowned, and got down on his knees and then leaned forward to place his ear against the floor. He straightened.
“Whatever it is, it’s coming from below – the ballast and storage areas.” He got back to his feet.
Suddenly they all cringed as Benny’s voice blared out in a ship wide communication to everyone on board, calling them all to come out and meet up on top deck.
“Give me a heart attack, Benny, why don’t you?” Mangione grinned. “But maybe we should have thought of doing that first.”
He went to the console and lifted the mic. “Seeing he’s on comms.”
He opened the comms line. “This is Salvatore Mangione, down in the engine room, over.”
“I hear you, Salvatore, Benny here. What’ve you got?”
“We hear something coming from the lower deck. Sounds like it might be voices, over.” Mangione turned to Bella who nodded.
“Good,” Benny replied. “I’ll pick up Mike and meet you. Wait for me where you are. Over.”
Mangione replaced the hand set. “And now for some answers.”
***
Benny picked up Mike at the elevators and the young man stepped in. He pressed the button for the engine room level.
“Find anything?” Benny asked.
“Are you kidding? After you left I hid in one of the room closets.” Mike grinned.
Benny laughed.
“But no, nothing. Most cabins are either empty or locked. Nobody home,” Mike said.
“Well, looks like Mangione has a few clues for us to follow,” Benny said.
“Clues?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, he thinks they heard voices.” Benny nodded. “From down at the bottom level.”
“The bottom level,” Mike snorted softly. “Why can’t the voices he hears be coming from the pool deck?”
Benny scoffed. “Buddy, you’ve gotta be six foot four and carrying a gun. Stop making me nervous.”
The door opened and Mangione, Bella and Allen Harper stepped in.
“Going down, ladieswear, soft furnishing, and people crying,” Benny said as he pressed the button for the lowest level.
The elevator slowed and the doors opened to a muted light.
“Power must have gone out.” Mangione frowned. “Shouldn’t have. This is emergency lighting,” he said. “I could probably fix it if you want to wait.”
“How long?” Benny asked.
Mangione shrugged. “Might take me five minutes or…”
“Forget it,” Benny said. “We’re here now. In five minutes we’ll know what’s what. Let’s get this over with.”
“Smells funny,” Bella said. “I was expecting brine, oil, and perhaps some metallic corrosion, but this smells like… over ripe mushrooms or something.”
Benny felt a chill on his neck, and didn’t like it. “Mr. Harper, you lead us on. Mike, you bring up the rear. We stay tight.”
The lights were an orange hued bar every fifty feet and left a lot of shadow. This area was mainly for storage, and bulkhead protection. There was no reason for anyone to be down here other than routine periodic inspections.
Bella had an electronic tablet in her hands that had the ship schematic. “Up ahead, second door on the left leads to the main tank area.”
“Got it.” Benny wiped his brow.
“Hot as Hell down here,” Allen Harper complained.
“It’ll cool down quickly now the engines are off. In a few more hours it’ll be as cold as the Hudson River.”
They came to the door and Harper leaned closer to the steel putting his ear to it. After a moment he shrugged.
