I popped my head up suddenly, a splash of cold water waking me from my brief nap. I had been lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean, and the gentle swaying back and forth of the cruise ship traveling in the idyllic gulf. My chair sat at the edge of the upper deck pool, and I sat up to see who had so rudely interrupted my respite. That’s when I saw Lucia treading water, a mischievous expression on her tanned face, brown hair plastered to one side by the pool water.
“Are you planning on sleeping the whole trip Grayson?” she said with mock concern, splashing me once more with a handful of chlorinated water.
“Babe, we were up until 1 AM last night,” I groaned, silently cursing whoever thought to put 24-hour bars on board this God-forsaken boat.
She was right of course; this trip had been my idea. I had just managed to make a nearly 5-million-dollar sale back in Medina, which perfectly coincided with our 3 year anniversary. Lucia never much liked the ocean, but she knew I had always wanted to take a cruise, so we couldn’t pass up this chance. She spent so much of her time in nursing school that we rarely had a chance to just relax together. I shouldn’t squander it by sleeping.
“Alright, I’m up,” I said, stretching as I stood, feeling a concerning number of vertebrae jump to new positions in my back.
I sunk into the pool, letting the lukewarm water wash over me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had even had time to nap, I thought ruefully. Between renovations, tours, and closing I was on the run every day of the week, all day long. I felt a drop of water hit my nose and turned to see if Lucia was screwing around again. To my surprise, she was doing laps, oblivious to me.
I glanced upwards, and saw a front of unfriendly looking, gray clouds pushing forward. The rain started slowly but began to pick up as the wind rose. Lucia and I got out of the pool when the lifeguard whistled, bringing an end to our aquatic frolicking.
“Seems funny, doesn’t it?” Lucia said with a smirk.
“The rain?” I asked, slow on the uptake.
“No, I mean closing a pool because of the rain,” she chuckled, “I mean it’s all water isn’t it?”
I smiled, happy to see that she was unbothered by the sudden change of plans. They were probably more worried about lightning than anything else, but I didn’t feel the need to correct her. We were here to escape our worries, not bicker over something so inconsequential.
Off to the side of the pool, I could see a few travelers discussing something in hushed voices, as they leaned over the railing. A crew member came over to join them, becoming equally transfixed by whatever they saw. I tried to stand on my toes to catch a glimpse of whatever had them so focused but felt Lucia tugging my arm back towards the lower decks. I tried to shake the unease that showed on the faces of the other travelers out of my mind.
As we walked down the tight corridors to get back to our cabin, a sudden loud noise made Lucia jump in fright, as the hallway echoed.
“OSCAR OSCAR, MAN OVERBOARD,” The automated voice shrieked through the PA systems overhead.
Lucia and I shared a grim look. To think someone fell off the ship, especially as the seas turned so choppy with the storm. Then again, the possibility that he jumped, or worse nagged at the back of my mind. Before either of us could get a word out, a new voice came over the intercom.
“Attention passengers, please return to your cabins immediately and lock your doors. The Azure Quest will be stopping temporarily to assist the Coast Guard’s search,” the nervous-sounding voice said, “Uh, please remain calm, just go back to your cabins and lock the doors.”
We briskly marched to our cabin, 143, at the lowest exterior deck of the ship.
“What is going on, why did he say to lock the doors?” Lucia asked, in a shrill whisper.
“It’s just standard man overboard procedures, so they can keep a head count of the passengers,” I said, improvising a nearly believable lie on the spot.
I hadn’t the foggiest idea why the hell they would ask for that, but I was not going to find out the hard way. We stepped into our tiny, one-bed cabin and sat down, staring at each other blankly.
“Well, I guess I’ll take a shower since we probably aren’t going to do any more swimming for the day,” my wife said, turning to the bathroom.
“We could go swimming with whoever that guy is,” I joked, gesturing to the dinner plate-sized porthole across from the bed.
Lucia turned and looked at me, and that’s when I realized she was crying silently. I felt my mouth go dry as I understood that she was genuinely worried about this.
“Hey, Lucy, I was just trying to lighten the mood,” I said, approaching to wrap an arm around her shoulders.
She pushed me away gently and said, “It wasn’t funny, someone could be dead.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself but realized she was right. Without another word, she turned and entered the bathroom. I laid back on the bed, cursing my own stupidity.
Why do you always have to talk faster than you think? I’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight.
I allowed the sounds of the shower running, and the rain splattering against the round window to hypnotize me back into a restful state. I could faintly hear the motors of boats, and what I guessed to be a helicopter overhead. The response time of the coastguard is refreshingly quick, I guess. I had incorporated these noises into the relaxing rhythm I was drifting off into when a sudden sharp thud reverberated through the walls.
It felt almost like it came from a cabin nearby. Like someone slammed the door. After a few more sudden thuds, I heard the unmistakable sound of a woman screaming. My mind filled in the blanks, and I rolled my eyes as I lay back down.
At least someone’s having a good time.
With the newfound silence, I tried in vain to get comfortable again, but at random intervals, sporadic thuds would interrupt my progress. I walked over to the porthole and gazed out at the gray seas reflected by an equally dark sky. I could still faintly hear the engines of the search vehicles, but still couldn’t see where they were coming from. I was gazing absently out when once again I heard a sharp bang, but this time from much closer.
I could feel it through the thinly carpeted floor in front of me like it was right below me. I felt frozen by sudden fear, trying to imagine what I was hearing. That’s when something happened that made my stomach drop to the floor with shock. A hand slammed against the porthole in front of me. I jumped back, my soul leaving my body as the clammy, gray hand pounded against the glass. I could hear Lucia, dripping wet, emerging to see what the commotion was before yelling in abject horror at the sight before us. The hellish, dead-looking arm tightened its hand into a fist and began striking the pane of laminated glass.
We backed away slowly, pressing our bodies against the cabin door, shrinking as small as we could. I could hear Lucia frantically praying a litany in a hushed whisper, I just stared in shocked silence. The fist was bloodied now, the index finger hanging at an obscene angle, knuckles cracking with each punch. Then with an explosion of rain and ice-cold wind, the arm shattered through the glass, bright red blood spurting out of fresh wounds along the skin.
Then in a deft, almost rehearsed-looking move, it placed the palm on the edge of the porthole and climbed up as though it was a rock wall. I could vaguely make out the body as it slithered past against the window, it looked to be a well-dressed man, covered in bruises and cuts, the suit hanging off in tatters. As it placed an ashen, nearly toeless foot through the porthole, I could hear a loud banging and more distressed shouts coming from above our cabin.
This thing is climbing up the side of the ship!
I looked over at Lucia, her face a mask of disgust and fear, and at that moment, I knew what I had to do. I ran forward, swallowing down my own terror and dread, letting out a shrill battle cry as I thrust my right hand out like an amateur football player within feet of the end zone. I felt my hand slam into the ankle of the water-logged zombie creature and felt the squishy pale flesh slough off at my touch, my palm stopping against the cold tibia. I almost passed out from sheer horror, but before I did, I saw the bedraggled, gory body tumble off the side of the ship, landing with a splash in the seas below.
I sat down, nursing my arm which had been severely scratched by the broken shards. Lucia ran over and began using her towel to mop up my bloodied forearm, I started to thank her when a new sound once again interrupted. This time, it was the unmistakable sound of a high-caliber gun firing. A few bursts of machine gun fire tore through the storm, accompanied by the chopping of rotor blades. They were shooting into the water and probably fired a few hundred tracer rounds.
When the lockdown was lifted by the captain, we were moved to a new cabin. I didn’t explain why the glass had been shattered, and strangely enough, the crew didn’t seem to mind. Apparently, the Coast Guard had been unable to recover the body, and they claimed it had been a suicide. As for the gunfire, the captain explained to a gathering of concerned guests that there was coincidentally a speedboat that was approaching, which the Guard claimed to have reason to suspect as pirates. The fire we heard was merely warning shots, nothing to fear.
We haven’t shared the story with anyone. It seems so unbelievable, but I don’t think that thing was human. I felt an instinctual fear of that thing, whatever it was. It was able to punch through the ship’s porthole, those are made to withstand immense pressure. They told us to lock the doors, but I don’t think that would have made a difference if it got on board. I know we are just lucky to have survived, but I just wish I could forget how that soggy, wet skin felt, as my hand pushed through it.