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Authors: Walter Greatshell

BOOK: Xombies: Apocalypse Blues
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“What the fuck, man,” said Julian, getting to his feet. “Where did you guys come from?”
One of the men said, “I might ask you the same question.” He had an English accent.
We all went stock-still as Mr. Noteiro’s voice boomed over the ship’s PA system: “RETURN TO THE LOWER PROMENADE, LADIES AND GENTS. DON’T MAKE US COME LOOKING FOR YA.”
Shaky with gratitude, I happened to glance behind me and only then cried out.
On the other side of the bank’s frosty security glass was a mass of bodies, perhaps a hundred or more, slumped together under a mantle of crystal fur like the ash-smothered victims of Pompeii. Their curdled eyeballs seemed to stare right through me.
“Well, Phil,” said one of the bird-men, his voice a muffled squawk behind the mask. “I told you they was bloomin’ kids.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“
W
hy didn’t you guys tell us who you were?” I asked. “You scared us to death!”
The one named Wally said, “We tried to, but you just ran away.”
“You lads had us half believing in ghosts,” said another, Reggie. “The mind plays tricks in a place like this.”
“We didn’t know what to think,” said Wally.
“We felt the same way!” I said.
A third man, Dick, spoke up. “But we’d have more cause to be suspicious, wouldn’t we? You might expect to find poor sods like ourselves on a derelict ship, but who, I ask you, would ever dream of findin’ a group of choirboys on bleedin’ holiday, much less a wee moppet like yourself?”
“We thought we’d gone mad,” said Reggie.
“Didn’t you hear us hail you?” asked Julian a little belligerently.
Dick replied, “We live in a right fortress of mattresses up there, so we wouldn’t, would we?”
“I guess not.”
“Warmth has been a rather abiding concern, I’m afraid.”
Hector asked, “How do you get around in the dark like that?”
The one named Phil said, “We’ve come to know this bloody scow like the backs of our hands, son. In the beginning, we used torches, same as you. Still and all, you took us by surprise with that ambush.” He swiveled his sore neck. “Nice scrimmage, that.”
“What a way to break the ice,” said Wally.
As they showed us their shortcut to the promenade, we briefly explained our situation (which must have seemed nonsensical to them—they offered no comment), and they told us what had happened to them.
They were a singing group—The Blackpudlians—a Beatles tribute band from England that had been booked to play twelve days of Christmas gigs as the ship steamed from the British Isles to New Brunswick and back again, skirting the arctic ice cap. The onboard festivities were to have culminated in a New Year’s Eve party the last night of the voyage. But it turned out to be a different kind of carnival.
“Blue meanies,” said Wally, laughing unsteadily—it was almost a sob.
“Blue meanies,” agreed Dick. “While we were having tea with Mr. Coffey in the Lido Lounge.”
“I remember I was in the middle of spreading clotted cream on a perfectly toasted currant scone, when there was an alarm, and Mr. Coffey had to excuse himself. ‘What’s this, then?’ says I. ‘We’ve not hit an iceberg, I hope.’ And he laughs back, ‘I’ll remember that when I’m handin’ out lifejackets.’” Wally shook his head.
“Weren’t no iceberg,” said Reggie gravely.
“Course it weren’t no iceberg, you sod,” Wally said. “After a few minutes we hear crockery breaking and see a brawl at another table—”
“This madwoman’s attacking her ’usband—”
“Now, we don’t know it was her ’usband, Dick.”
“—and she’s got the poor bloke in a clutch like a bleedin’ boa constrictor—”
“Looks like she’s off her bloody nut.”
“—
Kisses
the man—”
“No bloomin’ peck on the cheek, I can tell you.”
“—Whole place goes mad. Chaps at the next table try to intervene, she drops her ’usband and pounces like a leopard—this is a high-class woman dressed for a proper tea, mind you.
Second
man goes down—”
“Sturdy-looking chap, too.”
“—Now the stewards arrive, and there must be a dozen stout fellows pitching in to restrain the woman, who looks the very devil: blue as a coot, slippery with blood and jam, but she’s holding her own! At last they seem to gain the upper hand—”
“We’re all standing about with our mouths hangin’ open like bloody carp.”
“—People are administering CPR to the two men on the floor, kicking biscuits this way and that, when suddenly
another
woman joins the fray!—”
“Frightful, really.”
“—My first thought was that she was simply hysterical—”
“People were, you know. I was a bit cracked meself.”
“Not something you see every day.”
“—but it was plain as day this woman was as daft as the first, strangling the life out of some poor steward while the rest of us were still in shock from the previous bit. Then things became really queer: The body of the first man—and I say body because he was plainly as dead as a haddock, in spite of their attempts at resuscitation—unexpectedly lunged up and seized hold of a good Samaritan who had been attempting mouth-to-mouth on ’im! Grabbed the fellow’s head in the middle of a breath and held on tight while the other man thrashed about like a hooked fish, trying to break off the unholy kiss—”
“I’ll never forget the look in their eyes, mate. It was bloody rape.”
“—So then Phil says to us, ‘I must go, lads,’ and that like breaks the spell, and we all bolt for the exit. But as you may imagine, that was only the beginning. Out in the corridor we can hear the whole bloody ship going mad. Through the windows we can see a full-fledged melee on the lido deck—a whole crowd of men stampeding like antelopes and being picked off by nasty devils that had only just been society dames—”
“Sheer bedlam . . .”
“—Some of the men were lowering lifeboats, but I could tell we didn’t have a hope in hell of pushin’ through that lot—”
“Bloomin’ Dante’s
Inferno
.”
“—so I figured we’d best get to our lodgings and shut ourselves in good and tight. Just hold out until the cavalry arrived.”
“Problem was getting there.”
“Yeh, there was no way down. Every stair was full of people flockin’ up, slaughtering an’ being slaughtered, and for the moment the slaughterees—such as ourselves—were still sufficiently numerous that the four of us were able,
just for that brief moment
, to stand apart from it all and consider. But the window of opportunity was closing even as we watched.”
“The blue meanies were multiplying.”
“Quick as a wink, those monstrous women and murdered men were taking over the ship, like some . . . chemical reaction spreading outward, some elemental change. Soon we’d have the whole nest after us.”
“Dick said—good on yer, mate—‘We have to get off this concourse,’ and it made perfect sense: The public areas were the killing fields. So we found a staff-only door and slipped inside a short corridor piled with racks of empty bottles, leading to the lounge scullery. There was no one about, and we didn’t think it likely that anyone from the crew would return to ordinary duty, but of course it wasn’t the crew that we feared—”
“God, the fear! Miracle that alone didn’t kill us.”
“—so we ducked into the first available foxhole: the wine closet.”
“Brilliant. Really brilliant.”
“It couldn’t have been better suited to our purpose. A small room, yes, but stout as a keep to protect the really expensive vintages—well insulated, and with its own humidity and temperature controls. Even a spyhole to view the kitchen.”
“Not to mention floor-to-ceiling shelves of the finest grape.”
“All it lacked, in fact, was a means of locking ourselves inside, and Dick made short work o’ that.”
“Dick knows fuck-all about drums, but he’s a right genius when it comes to bending a handle.” I gathered that this was a private joke among them. “Isn’t that right, Dick?”
“Sod off. It was simple: We broke the outside door handle so nothing could get in. There was a mallet and chisel for opening crates—it was easily done.”
“But you puzzled it out, lad,” said Phil. “Credit where credit is due.”
“Hear hear,” said Reggie.
Ignoring them, Dick continued, “And that’s where we stayed, dashing out now and again for the niceties, but never losing sight of that door. You can be sure we took every bleeding precaution not to lock ourselves out. Twenty-two days we lived like that.”
“Didn’t you ever wonder what was happening in the rest of the ship?” asked Hector.
“Course we did. But let me tell you something, lad: When you’ve seen what we had, and every so often you hear a figment from your worst nightmare scratching at the door, it tempers your curiosity. I think we’d be there still if it hadn’t been for the cold.”
“Bloody hell, that was torment.”
“The ship’s power failed not long after the meanies came. Day by day we watched the thermometer drop. Not as fast where we were as outside, but too fast for comfort. I don’t know why we thought it would stop at zero C, but it was a blow when it didn’t.”
“Meanwhile, we were tucked under dirty aprons and sacking, with bags of flour heaped around us—we were a sorry sight, mate. The warmth from our bodies caused moisture to condense on the walls, so that after a few days it began to look like a bloody icebox in there. We had to chip it off the peephole to look out. And that was nothing compared to what it was like outside.”
“Bottles, tins, everything froze solid. The sink taps went dry. There was still plenty to eat and drink, but we had to use Sterno to melt it. Once the lights went out, all we had to see by was Sterno, too. I think it was our silly gobs pressed around that anemic flame, with a bottle of Chateau Lafitte Rothschild melting above it, that finally pushed us over the edge.”
“We couldn’t take it no more.”
“We came out, found a torch, and used the kitchen’s big gas cooker to make a proper joint of beef, hardly taking notice of how much bangin’ about it required. ”
“We ate it before it was barely done.”
“Blimey that was good.”
“Best bit o’ beef I ever ate.”
“And while it cooked, we thawed cases of porter on the stove, so that for once there was no shortage of drink. We lived in that kitchen for eight days, making up for lost time. When no meanies set upon us, the range of our forays increased, until eventually we deemed the ship safe.”
“That’s how we’ve been living ever since. Robinson Crusoe times four.”
“Until you lot came along.”
“Which begs a question . . .” said Dick.
“Yes?” I asked.
“We heard a few things on the wireless. We thought the women had all . . .”
“Become meanies? No. I have a medical condition.” They looked at me askance until I added, “It has something to do with menstruation. Since I don’t, uh, menstruate, I didn’t catch it.”
“Ah.” They seemed to accept this without further question.
During the walk back, Jake came up next to me, and said, sotto voce, “Did that guy call you a muppet?”
We arrived at the lower promenade a few minutes late, but no one was much upset. They were too busy. Most of the sub’s crew was there, including Commander Coombs, and a major operation appeared to be under way. Our new companions did attract a great deal of attention, however. I tried to politely introduce them, but Coombs and the other officers rudely brushed me aside, subjecting the overwhelmed quartet to an extensive “debriefing.”
“Not cool,” said Hector, watching the interrogation.
“I mean, this has been their home for months,” I said. “And we just barge in and take over? What are they supposed to think?”
Julian said, “Hey, survival of the fittest.”
I was disappointed in him. “That’s not right,” I said. “We have to come together, especially now.”
“Dream on.”
Approaching Mr. Robles, who looked miserably cold, I asked, “What’s going on? Why is everybody here?”
“We’re salvaging whatever we can off this ship.”
“Really?” My heart sank. Cowper’s medicine was one thing, but . . . “That’s a long way to carry stuff,” I said.
“We’ll rig up something. Maybe open a loading bay. Don’t worry.” Trying to cheer himself up, he asked, “So how is it in there?”
I thought about the cold, the bodies, the dark. He wasn’t asking about that. Looking at his beaming expression, I replied, “It’s a fucking extravaganza.”
 
 
The next few days were full of hard physical work, but I can’t say it wasn’t interesting. Using the sub’s massive sailplanes as levers, a crane was improvised to hoist the forward escape trunk out of its bed, leaving the bathysphere-like pod dangling in midair above a large well in the deck. Objects up to seven feet wide could be taken aboard. While the men were handling this delicate operation, the boys and I were given long lists of provisions and sent off to scour the liner.

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