Walter Greatshell - Apocalypticon

Q: What do you say to those who think it was God's judgment? A: I'd say God acts in mysterious ways. -The Maenad Project "Mr. Kranuski."

"Mr. Coombs."

"To what do we owe the honor of this visit?"

"Cut the bullshit. You know as well as I do. Where are the spare command keys?"

"They've been missing since Fred Cowper was in charge."

"Why don't you ask him?" Langhorne said brightly.

Kranuski ignored her. "Don't bullshit me. I know somebody's been using those keys to gain access to restricted areas of the boat and tamper with the system. That's mutiny, sabotage. Do you still have any honor left? Is that what you want? To scuttle the boat? Kill us all?"

"Of course not," said Coombs, offended. "I have no idea who could be doing that. How could I? It's not like I had time to talk to anyone before you locked us in here."

Rich Kranuski said, "I knew you were incompetent, but I never thought you'd stoop to something like this out of sheer spite. I am not your enemy, Harvey. I know I fucked up at Thule, but now I'm just trying to preserve what few military regulations still apply, and which we are both duty-bound to observe. This is still a Navy vessel."

"I understand that."

"Then don't you understand that whoever's fucking around with the safety sensors is fucking with your sworn mission as a Navy officer? False alarms in the coolant valves are not my idea of a joke."

Langhorne piped in. "Tell it to Cowper."

"Shut the hell up."

"Oooh, tough guy. Mister macho. I heard how you treat little girls."

"Shut up, or you're gonna make me shut you up."

"Oh no, am I in for a spanking?"

"I think you better hear her out, Rich," said Coombs,

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ask her."

"Ask her what?" He turned to Langhorne. "What is it you're supposed to know?"

Alice Langhorne didn't seem to be listening, suddenly more absorbed in pouring herself a cup of coffee and stirring in a packet of sweetener.

"I'm waiting, Doctor. And if you don't wipe that smug expression off your face, I'll do it for you."

Taking a sip, she said, "Give me a break. Of the three useless captains on this ship, you're the worst."

"What are you talking about, three captains? I don't have time for this."

"I'm saying, genius, that with Coombs under arrest, some of the men are taking their orders from another captain, and it's not you."

"What the hell are you-are you insane or something? Fred Cowper's long gone, and you know it. We saw the last of him up around the Arctic Circle."

"He's not gone. The orders you gave to dispose of his head were never followed-it didn't get dumped down the TDU. It's still here."

"Oh, really? Where? Hidden in the fruit bin?"

"It was in a locker on the third deck until we sent out the shore party. It disappeared after that, and I thought maybe my Xombies had taken it. But now I don't think so. I believe Fred Cowper's still on board."

"Bullshit! I can't listen to any more of this." To Coombs, he said, "I suppose you're going to stand there and swear to me she's telling the truth."

"I have no idea. But I will tell you what you already know, that there have been some strange things happening on board. You've heard the chatter about the boat being haunted, and it's not just the kids doing the talking."

"That's just sailor superstition. Everybody's on edge. It doesn't mean there's a fucking head rolling around loose."

"You're probably right. I don't know."

Kranuski steadied himself. "You know, according to strict ship's protocol, I am authorized to use lethal force if it is necessary to maintain operational integrity. I could execute you both, right here, right now. And I would… except that it would only create a worse hazard for me to deal with. I know you both know that-you know I don't dare kill you. Not with a gun. But fortunately there's another way of handling traitors and saboteurs on this boat. You're familiar with the trash-disposal unit. It's the way I thought we got rid of Fred Cowper, and if I find out you're lying to me, it's the way we're going to dispose of you."

Langhorne waited until he was finished, her face flushing bright red, then broke into laughter. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "I have a weakness for dumb jokes."

One by one, the boys were being taken-grabbed off their bikes like cattle culled from a herd. Kyle counted down the sounds of crashing bicycles as each one fell: fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve-two-thirds of the guys who had started out were gone. But he was numb to it, in shock from the loss of his brother. If this went on much longer, there wouldn't be anybody left to meet Sal. If Sal was even still alive. Their mission was a joke, a ruse to get rid of them, just as Russell had said. A plot cooked up by Kranuski and Webb and the rest of the Navy men to conserve the food supply. To save a few pounds of grits.

Far behind them, he heard the crack of a gunshot. Before the sound could fully register, there followed a series of booms like Fourth of July fireworks. In the distance, a plume of black smoke rose into the sky.

"Holy shit," said Freddy, gasping for breath. "What's that?"

"I don't know," Kyle said. "Keep pedaling."

"Sounds like a war."

"Don't matter what it is; it's way the hell back there."

"Maybe it's a rescue party from the sub!"

"Then they in a world of shit like we are. Ain't no rescue party. Shut up and keep moving-we're almost there."

The street had leveled off, and the end was in sight: They were coming to a T-intersection that Kyle supposed must be Gano Street. He expected to see a highway underpass-a clear route back to the waterfront. But when they got there, there was no underpass, just more houses, and the street sign said GOVERNOR.

Where the hell are we?

The boys were piling up behind him, faces agog with panic, wondering why he was hesitating. "Don't stop!" they shouted, blue death clawing at their backs. Kyle didn't know what to do-he couldn't very well tell them they were lost. It was that damn Sal DeLuca's fault!

"Over there!" Freddy cried in his ear, pointing up the street.

There it was: another sign for Transit Street, half a block over. So they hadn't yet reached the end after all. Transit continued on after Governor. Kyle gratefully kicked off, relinquishing his lead as other bikes swept past. Most of them probably knew this part of town better than he did anyway. He was suddenly shaking so hard he could barely grip the handlebars.

Now the street was wider, beginning to dip downhill. The twelve remaining boys had all caught up with each other and were riding clumped together like a school of bait fish. Nobody wanted to be on the outside. Another block down, and they could see water-a river or an arm of the bay-bordered by green fields.

"That has to be the Seekonk," Todd called. "Which means Gano Street is straight ahead!"

With this news there was no stopping them. Legs spinning, hearts surging with wild hope, the pack spread out a little, swarming downhill as fast as they could, faster than even Xombies could run. As speed and momentum increased, so did their sense of power: Boys carrying crowbars, hammers, and makeshift lances took the lead, jousting down the few Xombies that blocked their path, clearing the road.

At the bottom lay Gano Street. A few blocks to the right was the passage to India Point Park-and the bay. All they had to do now was zip through there before the Xombies got wind of them. Then they would be back on the waterfront, fenced off from the rest of the city, within spitting distance of the rafts. Practically home free.

It was all just as Sal had said… but where was he?

Kyle slowed at the bottom of the hill, brakes squeaking.

"What are you doing, man?" said Freddy, wobbling up short beside him. "We gotta go!"