“You did it!” I say. “Laurel, you did it.”
I pull her to me and she shoves and kicks her way down till her feet hit the floor.
I’m so happy to see her. So relieved she’s all right. I want to hold her, but I can barely stay up. Only the press of addicts is keeping me upright.
Laurel wipes my face and I realize she’s wiping away my puke. Once I would have been embarrassed. Now I’m just thankful we’re both alive.
“Are you okay?” she shouts.
“My ankle’s snapped,” I tell her.
She looks down.
“Oh, man,” she says.
Someone crashes into me and I try not to scream like a girl.
The insane, churning mill of addicts presses in on us from every side.
My ankle is screeching nonstop—like the pain is the sound made by bones rubbing together.
“We have to get out of this room!” Laurel yells.
I try to keep myself vertical, but they’re all over us. They are thickest at the door, shoving and climbing over one another.
A skeleton draped in hanging folds of skin grabs my hair and tries to crawl over me. A naked woman covered in red marks—bite marks—puts her bare foot on Laurel’s shoulder to push off. We’re getting buried alive in bodies.
Then RATATATATAT.
Rich is holding a machine gun and firing into the ceiling.
“Everybody down!” he shouts. “Get down or die!”
They cower. They cower for a moment and Rich holds his hand out to Laurel.
“Come on, you two, let’s get the hell out of here!”
Laurel kicks her way out and I follow the best I can, leaning on her and dragging my right leg. I can’t hold it up high—the pain won’t let me. It catches on people’s limbs and I nearly black out over and over again.
The hallway is glutted, but with some more fire from Rich into the ceiling, we make it out of the press of bloodthirsty skeletons.
I lurch, falling facedown onto the floor. I’m not going to be able to get up. I’m not.
The floor is cool under my face and I close my eyes.
Laurel and Rich drop next to me.
“We made it,” Rich says. “We’re alive. We’re alive!”
“Tom broke his ankle,” Laurel tells Rich. “He can’t walk.”
“I thought we were all going to die,” Rich continues. “Laurel, you were amazing! And I got you guys out of there! This gun is amazing!”
“Rich! Tom broke his ankle. Look!”
Only now does Rich look at me.
“Oh no, no, no. Is that his bone? That is disgusting.”
Face pressed against the floor, I glare at him.
“We’ll get you some help,” Rich says. “Can you walk?”
“No,” I say.
Not “I’ll try.” Not “maybe.”
Just no.
I just can’t.
My whole body is starting to shake. And I’m cold, I realize. Very cold.
“Leave me,” I say.
“Not in a million years,” Laurel tells me.
“Not on your life,” Rich says simultaneously.
So they drag me.
Rich loops a piece of discarded clothing from the floor under my arms. He takes one sleeve, Laurel takes the other and they drag me down the hall.
Some addicts dodge past us, hoarding pieces of cloth. They snarl and dart at one another like wild dogs.
If they notice us, they don’t show it.
* * *
The business center is on the same deck as Almstead’s suite.
That’s lucky.
Stairs would kill me.
Rich and Laurel drag me to the far hallway wall and leave me there, propped up against the wall. We can hear people, sane people, trying to break down the doors.
“Thank God, they’re still alive!” Laurel says.
She’s sweaty and dirty and there’s blood smeared all over her. I hope it’s my blood—I don’t want addicts to smell Solu-tainted blood on her and attack.
“You okay?” she asks me, bending to brush the hair out of my eyes.
“Yeah,” I lie.
“Think I should shoot it open?” Rich asks us. He’s nodding toward the doors.
There’s a length of chain looping through the elegant brass door handles. It’s locked with some kind of digital combination padlock.
“Hello!” Rich shouts. “This is Rich Weller. Are you guys okay in there?”
Laurel rises and goes to Rich’s side. “Jaideep? Are you in there? Milo? Kiniana?”
“Hello?!” It’s Jaideep, along with a chorus of others. “Yes, we’re here. With lots of others! The guards put us in here. They may come back!”
“Stand back,” Rich shouts. “I’m going to shoot the door open. Everyone get clear.”
There’s clattering and shouting from within, as they scramble to get out of the way.
RATATATATAT.
Rich blasts away the chain and the handles until the bullets run out and the gun clicks empty.
The doors swing open and our friends pour out of the room. Other non-addicts are with them. There must be at least eighty people.
More than I hoped.
Jaideep rushes to Laurel.
“We thought you were dead!” he says. He sees me.
“Oh no! Tom!” He and Laurel come to my side.
“Everyone make your way to Deck Six,” a black crewman in uniform shouts. “We’re going to evacuate the ship.”
There are a couple of men in uniform. They must be from the bridge, I realize. They are taking charge, which is good.
“He broke his ankle,” Laurel tells Jaideep.
“Yes, I see that.” He says, eyeing my ankle with a grimace. “We need a medic! Kathlyn!”
A Filipino woman rushes to us and looks at my ankle.
“Get him a wheelchair,” she tells Jaideep. Jaideep nods and rushes away. The woman turns to leave.
“That’s all?” Laurel asks. “Can’t you … fix it? Make it so the bone isn’t sticking out like that?”
“We will get him to a doctor. We need to do X-rays, and setting an ankle is delicate business.”
“Can you give him something for the pain?” Laurel asks.
“Yes, yes. I’ll give it to him on the lifeboat,” she tells us. “And I can put a cool pack on it in the boat.”
Around us, crew members are springing into action.
The medic, Kathlyn, is swept up in a group headed for the stairs.
Jaideep comes back with the wheelchair. Vihaan is on his heels.
The two of them struggle to lift me into the chair. Laurel holds it steady.
They jolt and jostle my leg. Waves of nausea alternate with shocks of pain.
Putting my ankle in the leg brace thing nearly takes me down. Jaideep is rolling me down the hallway when we hear an air horn.
It gives one long blast, then seven short ones.
“I cannot believe we are hearing that sound,” Jaideep says. “The signal to abandon ship.”
“Not even over the PA,” Vihaan adds. They both shake their heads.
“What has become of our beautiful ship?” Jaideep sighs.
“ABANDON SHIP!” Vihaan yells off into the hallway.
“ABANDON SHIP!” Jaideep echoes.
LAUREL
DAY SIX
WHEN WE DID THE MUSTER DRILL, half the passengers were on one side of the ship and half of them went to the other.
I stood on this deck with 250 other people, all of us wearing life jackets, feeling goofy, shifting from foot to foot, and waiting for it to be over.
Now there are … maybe 120 of us, all told? We are the people who did not take Solu. Everyone looks beaten, bloodied, and ragged. The injured are hanging on to the able-bodied.
There are a lot of crew members among our ranks, helping people with life jackets. It makes sense that there are more clean crew members than passengers—they were supposed to not take Solu.
Th
e lifeboats hang just above us, from big mechanical braces.
I see a crew member on the rigging near the lifeboats, moving levers. The first of the three boats lowers down.
Everyone cheers.
Rich is standing with Tom and me.
Vihaan and Jaideep went to make sure everyone has a life jacket.
After everything that has happened, after the mistreatment they experienced at the hands of the crazed passengers, they and the other crew members are still doing their jobs.
It’s amazing.
They are evacuating us, calmly and professionally, just as they must have practiced a thousand times.
Jaideep even found Tom a bottle of orange juice, to get his blood sugar back up, and has wrapped him in a shiny, reflective blanket.
“I sedated her!” an anxious voice cries. “Please, she’s just a child!”
A bossy woman is arguing with one of the crew members. A sleeping form lies on the deck at the woman’s feet.
“We are not allowing any addicts on the lifeboat.”
“She’s twelve years old!” the woman begs.
She removes a large emerald ring from her hand and presses it into the crewman’s hand.
“Please!”
The crewman blows out an exasperated breath and puts the ring firmly back into the mother’s hand.
“We will bind her hands and feet,” he declares.
“Yes! Fine! Anything!”
I can’t help my curiosity. I step forward as the woman pulls her daughter onto her lap.
Her skin hangs in folds off her emaciated frame, but her sleeping face is the same sweet girlish face I remember from the day I practiced my guitar on the upper deck.
It’s Claire. The girl who took selfies with Tom.
“It’s okay, baby,” the mother croons to her daughter.
“I’m going to find my wife!” a short man yells. “Wait for me!”
“If she can come, then I’m going to get my brother!” a woman insists.
The crewman holds up his hands.
“I made an exception because this girl is twelve years old and she’s already sedated! No other addicts may be brought on the lifeboat. Not a one!!”
Other passengers become agitated.
“I’m not getting on the boat with one of them!” a tall, jowly man with a face like a pug says. “They’re animals!”
Some other passengers agree, but the crew member gets up in the man’s face. “You don’t have much of a choice. In an emergency situation, you do what we say or get left behind,” he tells the man.
That shuts him up.
* * *
Night has fallen and the sea is nothing but a black expanse with twinkles reflected from the full moon.
Below us, other crew members are being evacuated from a lower deck.
Men roll these large canisters out into the water and then pull on ropes attached to the canisters. They pop, and a full life raft inflates by itself, with a roof and everything. These are round and have an orange tent top.
We are getting into lifeboats; they have hard bottoms and tops. They are much bigger and have an engine, Jaideep told us.
From below I see all these kitchen workers and cleaning people piling into the life rafts. Must be at least two hundred of them. They fill three rafts.
The passengers cheer for them and some of the workers wave to us.
I remember Anna said something about a barricade.
Good for them.
“Hey, look!” a passenger yells.
Far off in the water are lights. Little lights.
“Hey! Over here!” some of the passengers start shouting, waving their arms.
But I know what they are—they’re taillights.
“It’s the guards,” I say. “Almstead’s guards.”
“They got away,” Tom says.
“I hope they rot in hell,” Rich says. “When we get to the shore, the first thing I’m going to do is give their names to the police.”
Wind whips up from the dark water, lashing my hair across my face just as my stomach bottoms out.
“Rich.” I grab his arm. “What time is it?”
He checks his watch.
“It’s nine thirty.”
“Then there’s still time! Solu is released at midnight. If we can get word out, they can stop the release! There’s still time!”
Tom looks at me. His face is gray. “You’re right,” he says.
The first lifeboat is now locked into place against the railing. People are eager to board, scrambling across onto the boat.
“Slowly, now,” a crewman shouts. “One at a time!”
Some people have some of their belongings. One guy is carrying a bottle of single malt scotch.
“We can help with Tom,” Jaideep says, coming over.
“Wait,” I say. “We can’t get on that boat. We have to warn the mainland. We have to get the word out.”
Rich eyes the lifeboat with longing.
“We must get ashore. Then we will put the word out,” Jaideep says.
“But how long will that take?” I ask.
Jaideep shrugs. “It could be as many as six or eight hours. We don’t know exactly where we are.”
“That’s not good enough!” I shout. “There must be a radio—something!”
Rich puts a hand on my shoulder. “Laurel, you know the mercenaries shot up the bridge. You saw it yourself.”
“It’ll be okay,” Jaideep tells me. “These lifeboats have a beacon. We will likely be rescued soon.”
Rich pushes Tom’s chair toward the lifeboat. I trail behind.
“But no one knows the ship is in trouble,” I protest. “Almstead saw to that.”
“Laurel, we don’t know! Okay?” Rich snaps. “The sooner we get off the boat, the sooner we can get the word out!”
I can’t stand still—I’m pacing back and forth.
We can’t just get on a lifeboat and let midnight come and go. People are buying up all the boxes. They will buy enough doses to get fully addicted—all at once. They could binge on Solu and become monsters in even less than the six days it took for the people on board to succumb.
It’s our turn to board, but I can’t. I won’t.
“Come now, we will carry Tom across,” Jaideep tells us.
“Keep moving!” people shout from behind us.
I step out of the line, pushing Tom ahead of me.
“Board the boat, Laurel,” Rich insists. “The sooner we board, the sooner we get somewhere with phone service!”
A man with a leg wound asks Jaideep to help him.
Jaideep gets under the man’s shoulder and helps him walk. Together they step onto the lifeboat and they step inside the craft, ducking under the roof. For a second, Jaideep is a dark silhouette against the orange emergency lights inside the lifeboat.
Then he disappears inside.
There’s almost no one left on the deck now.
“Time to board the lifeboat,” says a crewman. “You need to get on. Right now.”
“But we haven’t warned the mainland!” I shout. “We have to warn them!”
“All communications are down,” the crewman says. “There’s no way to contact them.”
“Time to let go, Laurel,” Rich says. “You’ve done enough already. You can’t save the world.”
I push Rich away.
“What about flares?” I ask the crewman.
“No one’s looking for us,” he snaps. “They won’t see a little flare in the water.”
“Laur…,” Tom says. “Laurel!”
He grabs my hand.
I bend down.
I’m ready for him to tell me to chill out, too. I know he’s wanted to get off the ship all day. He probably wishes we’d done it much earlier.
“We can’t just abandon ship, Tom! We can’t. There has to be a way to get the attention of the mainland.”
“You’re right,” he says. “And there is.”
“Come on, man,” Ric
h moans. “Can’t we just get off this godforsaken ship?”
“Listen,” Tom says. Rich and I lean in close. “The ship is rigged to explode tomorrow, right? So I blow it now.”
Yes.
Tom continues, “You guys will all be on the lifeboat—you’ll motor away. Someone will see a huge ship on fire. It will be too big to miss. They’ll come and then Laurel, you and Rich, will tell them all about Solu. About Almstead, about his plan, everything.”
“It’s a great plan,” I say.
Tom sits back with a grimace. “Good,” he says.
“Except I’m going to be the one who blows it up,” I tell him.
“No!” Tom says. “Laurel, that’s not the idea!”
“We are leaving now!” The crewman shouts. “Get on board or be left behind.”
Jaideep comes out of the lifeboat’s shelter and motions to us.
“Laurel, Rich, Tom! Come on!”
“Guys, just come now,” Rich pleads. He walks backward toward the rail. “Your plan sucks. Please come.”
“Laurel, go,” Tom says to me. “Go with them. I can handle this.”
“No. We’ll do it together. You need my help. Okay?” I squeeze his hand. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he says. “But I don’t like it.”
“Rich, you have to tell them everything. About Solu. About Almstead. The plan doesn’t work if you don’t tell them.”
There are tears streaming down Rich’s face.
“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll get the message out,” he says. “I’ll tell them how you saved us. Everyone will know about you two.”
Rich crosses the threshold onto the lifeboat.
“Mr. Fiorelli? Miss?” the crewman calls. “WE ARE GOING TO LEAVE YOU!”
“Go ahead!” I yell back. “We’re staying!”
The crewman detaches the lifeboat from the side of the ship and closes the gate on the boat.
It starts to lower automatically from the side of the ship.
Jaideep lunges for the rail as the lifeboat sinks out of view.
“Miss Laurel!” he yells. “Come with us! No!”
He doesn’t understand why we’re not coming and there’s panic in his eyes and it just gets me. A sob comes up. I try to choke it back.
“Nope. None of that,” I say aloud. “Let’s get to work.”
TOM
DAY SIX
LAUREL STARTS UNBUCKLING the life jacket Jaideep gave her.
“Guess you won’t need that, huh?” I ask.