Authors: Cassandra Gannon
Lucy
slowly turned to face him. “Warren, didn’t we have a pact never to speak
unless one of us was on fire and needed a heads-up? Even then, I think we had
a hand signal worked out.”
“Yeah,
but that was because you were such snotty bitch.” He told her easily. “We’re
passed that now, ya know?”
Warren
had the irritating habit of turning every statement into a question by adding
“ya know?” to the end. It was one of the ten-thousand things she detested
about the man.
Physically,
he looked pretty much the same as he always did. Not quite as attractive as he
pretended to be, with the bulky build of a football player who hadn’t made the
cut for a scholarship offer. His final game at Woodward High had been such a
catastrophe that they were
still
shaking their heads about it around
Clovis. No college would put him on the field after the Homecoming fiasco,
even though he’d been an above average player up until then.
One
bad day ruined it all for Warren and nobody was even surprised when it happened.
Warren
was a guy who
juuuust
missed the mark in everything he did. Everyone
knew it, so they didn’t even
expect
him to hold things together. His
whole life was an “almost.” Bad choices, bad luck, bad timing… He was just
doomed to failure. These days, he had two of the meanest ex-wives ever spawned
and sold Saturns on his dad’s car lot.
And
probably
still
made more per hour than Lucy did.
Ass
hat.
“I’ll
always
be a snotty bitch to you, Warren.” Lucy assured him and headed
off to find a non-red dress. Given the state of her day, it was no surprise
that pretty much all the gift shop offered in the way of clothing options were
bathing suits, sarongs and terrycloth bathrobes. Why couldn’t this be one of
the luxury cruises with the onboard malls?
Warren
followed her around the small store, not taking the hint. His dark hair seemed
to have been affixed to his head with Crisco to hide his developing bald spot.
“Seriously, you had --like-- some kind of Goth-girl-from-
The-Breakfast-Club
thing going on in high school.” He informed her, crossing his arms over his
chest. He was wearing his Woodward High football jersey, which was all kinds
of sad. “All you did was read books in the library and dress in man-hating
flannel and whine about how the ball players didn’t take the same tests as the
rest of the class, ya know?”
“Because,
your tests were easier.”
“Because,
we needed good grades to stay on the team! You fucked up all my weekends with
your complaining. I had to stay home and
study
.” He frowned at her.
“Fifteen years and you still can’t admit that you were wrong about that?”
“Fifteen
years and you still don’t see that I was
right
about that?” Lucy
snapped back. But, it annoyed her that Warren was little bit right, too. Not
about the tests, obviously. And she’d never been a full on Goth kid, nor had
she hated men. She just hated
Warren.
She’d definitely been a loner,
though. It was her nature to stand back and roll her eyes rather than join in.
“Taffi
broke-up with me, because I couldn’t take her out on Saturdays.” Warren
insisted. “Otherwise, we’d probably be married now and this would be
my
boat, ya know?”
Jesus,
it was like the Mobius strip of tenth grade debate all over again. “Taffi’s
husband works for the cruise line, first of all. They don’t own this boat.
Secondly,
Taffi’s husband works for the cruise line
. If she’d married
you
,
we wouldn’t even
know
about this boat, because we’re only here due to
the fact she married to
him.
” She paused. “Also, you broke up because
she screwed Craig Turkana at her birthday party.”
Warren’s
eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to apologize, are you?”
“That’s
it. We’re reinstating the rule.” Lucy decided. “No talking to each other,
unless one of us spontaneously combusts.” She turned back to the racks of
clothes, picking up a t-shirt without much hope. “It’s the only way you’re
getting off this ship with all of your limbs attached.”
“The
least you could do is…”
“Where
is she?” Taffi slammed into the gift shop, interrupting his complaint. Her
expression was wild and her eyes narrowed in a way sure to cause premature
wrinkles. Her plastic surgeon would have palpitations if he saw. “You
bitch!
You think you’re stealing my dress,
again?
”
Damn
Marnie-from-third-period-bio. That pumpkin-headed twit always did have a big
mouth. She must have rushed off to tell Taffi all about the impending maritime
disaster.
“I’m
buying a new outfit, Taffi. Just calm down…”
“Damn
right you are!” The artful layers of Taffi’s hair flew in all directions as
she advanced on Lucy. She looked like she was wearing a scaled down version of
the infamous blue dress, complete with corsage. Where the hell had she found a
freaking
corsage
at sea? The woman just wasn’t sane on the subject of
proms. “You won’t spoil
this
for me, too, Lucy!”
“Hey,
Taffi.” Warren gave her a leer, somehow managing to telegraph to everyone in
the cute little boutique that they’d once had lots and lots of sex. “How you
doin’, babe?”
“Fuck
off, Warren.” Taffi didn’t even glance his way. Instead, she glared at the
shirt in Lucy’s hand. “You think you’re wearing
that
to Formal Night?
Do you
want
to ruin the beautiful dinner that the Alumni Committee has
planned? Is that it?” She shook her head. “
This
is why we’ve been
enemies since kindergarten, you freak.”
Lucy
decided to wear the damn shirt just to piss Taffi off. It was neon orange,
with the silhouette of the cruise ship on the front and its name written in
gold glitter:
The Arden
. It would serve Taffi right to…
From
out of nowhere, Lucy remembered the dream, again.
Rhawn’s
stark face as he whispered,
“It’s the
Ardin.
The sinking.”
A
strange premonition swept over Lucy. The same feeling she got the day her
grandfather had died a hundred miles away or when she switched seats on a bus
just before the driver had sideswiped a telephone pole. A deep, inexplicable
knowing.
Oh
God
.
Lucy’s
eyes widened in panic. Not bothering to put the t-shirt down, she headed out
of the shop. “We have to get up on deck!
Now.
”
“What?”
Warren followed her, but he didn’t look happy about it. “Why?” He pulled out
his folded shipboard itinerary to double-check the schedule. “All we’re
missing are shuffleboard lessons, ya know?”
“Lucy,
you didn’t pay for that shirt.” Taffi protested hotly, trailing after them
like the eternal hall monitor. “My husband is a vital member of this crew and
I’m not going to let you just steal from his ship.”
Lucy
ignored them. All she could process was the pounding of her own heart as she
ran up the stairs. Goddamn it, what level were the lifeboats on? Why hadn’t
she paid closer attention to that stupid TV safety message they’d played
yesterday afternoon?
Craig
Turkana, Woodward High’s “most likely to get the electric chair,” watched her
race by. He wasn’t some handsome rebel in the Fonzie, James Dean, Luke Perry
tradition of high school bad boys. He was just the kind of low rent scumbag
who dealt drugs behind the cafeteria and sold pictures of his sister in the
shower.
Lucy
had no idea why Craig had even bothered to come to the reunion. Maybe he’d
just needed a way to flee the state.
“Where
you goin’ in such a hurry, Meadowcroft?” He called, a cigarette dangling from
his mouth and an ancient shirt that read “Fuck the World” covering his chest.
“Brainiac marathon?” He chuckled at his own barley coherent wit. Lucy
obviously wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the cruise’s open bar. “For
real, I’m glad you’re here, though. There’s some stuff I’ve waited fifteen
year to say to…”
Lucy
cut him off. “Get up on deck!” She ordered, although she probably should’ve
just spared Craig’s future victims the heartache and let him drown. “This boat
is going to sink.”
“Huh?”
Warren said with a typical show of razor-sharp intelligence.
“That’s
crazy.” Taffi sputtered. “This ship can’t sink. We have it rented until
Monday.”
Craig
was a bit quicker on the uptake. He might have been a career criminal, but
he’d never been stupid. Even half-drunk, he quickly assessed the situation and
saw that Lucy was serious.
Perhaps
remembering the twelfth grade library fire she’d shown up to douse seconds
after he’d started it… Craig believed her. For whatever reason, he’s always
insisted that she’d had some kind of psychic flash that day and he held it
against her. It was another example of people ascribing Lucy with a
specialness she just didn’t have. Really, she’s just smelled the kerosene.
“Do
we have time to get the life vests from the rooms?” Craig sounded nearly
sober.
“I
don’t think so. I think we just have to get to the…”
She
was cut off when the
Arden
suddenly listed to the left.
Port,
she mentally corrected herself, because nautical precision was important when
you were caught in
The Poseidon Adventure
. They were listing to
port
.
Lucy
held on as the entire ship rolled to a sicken new angle. All around her, she
heard people shouting in panic and objects falling. Metal creaked. Glass
broke. Sirens started going off. She thought she smelled smoke.
Oh
yeah. Taffi was
definitely
going to be giving her a refund for this
“vacation.”
Using
the decorative bannister of the staircase as a ladder, Lucy pulled herself
upward. She had to get to the deck or she’d be caught inside when ship
went
down.
Warren
and Taffi changed their minds about her mental state and frantically climbed
after her, as the ship twisted further onto its side. Behind them, there was a
reverberating crash. Lucy turned to see half the steps she’d just climbed fall
away. Taffi and Warren barely made it to the jagged piece of landing that
remained. If she hadn’t left the store when she did, they all would’ve been
stranded down there.
It’s
the
Ardin.
The sinking.
Rhawn’s
warning had saved her life.
So
far.
“Go!”
She shouted at Craig.
He
didn’t need the prompting. He sprinted for the exterior door at the top of the
stairs. It had swung open when the ship made its ominous roll. Outside, Lucy
saw lightening flash. It hadn’t been raining before, but now a storm raged
like something out of a George Clooney film.
Lucy
hesitated, suddenly more afraid of what lay behind the door than what she’d
face inside. Wait. How could the weather have deteriorated into a typhoon in
a matter of minutes? What was going on?
“Move!”
Warren shrieked. “Move!
Move!
” He shoved passed her, pushing Lucy
through the door in the process.
She
stumbled out onto the sharply-angled deck, forgetting about the mysterious
hurricane. All that mattered was getting to the lifeboats. On the wall, she
spotted an emergency sign pointing towards the stern and she automatically
headed that way. Just a few more moments and she’d be safe. All she needed
was a few more…
The
Arden
plunged further into the water, the whole ship turning onto its
side.
Shit.
Lucy
had time to lock eyes with Craig. She heard Taffi screech in panic and Warren
bellow for help. She tried to find a handhold, but the exterior railing gave
way. It was the end. Damn it, she’d
known
she’d never get out of high
school alive.
The
very last thought in her head was of Rhawn.
Then,
Lucy was freefalling through the air and into the bottomless blue of a swirling
abyss.