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Authors: James F. David

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BOOK: Ship of the Damned
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“I am Prophet,”
he said without opening his mouth.
His voice was loud and clear in Elizabeth’s mind, and it terrified the part of her that was Dawson.
P
rophet led the column through the Norfolk. Elizabeth and the other captives walked in the middle of the line, hands tied behind their backs. They were viciously shoved whenever they lagged. Roberto and the wounded sailor were first, Roberto’s arm around the sailor’s waist. One of the Crazies had pulled the crossbow bolt from the sailor’s chest by putting his foot on the sailor and giving the bolt a vicious yank. Jett was next in line, and Elizabeth last. Compton was directly behind her, acting as if she had been one of the Crazies all her life. Elizabeth tried reasoning with her, but the only reply she received was a crack on the head with the barrel of Compton’s gun. In a matter of seconds, Prophet had reached inside Compton’s mind and turned her against Jett and the others. Elizabeth knew that her host, Dawson, was resistant to Prophet, or he would have been turned long ago. She didn’t know about herself. Would she end up being manipulated into worshipping a self-appointed prophet of God?
Finally, they were led outside on the port side of the Norfolk and pushed toward the stern. As they cleared midships, Elizabeth saw something new; the Dawson part of her reacted, too. The Norfolk had a sister ship on this level, and it was massive.
Directly astern of the Norfolk was an aircraft carrier that towered
above the cruiser. At least twice the size of the Norfolk, the massive ship was lined up directly behind as if it was chasing the smaller ship across the desert. Jett was ahead of Elizabeth and stopped, staring at the ship. Elizabeth, in Dawson’s body, stood to one side of Jett, and shoulder to shoulder they gaped in awe at the giant war machine.
“It’s the Nimitz,” Jett said.
Elizabeth’s mind flashed back to something Dr. Birnbaum said—there had been rumors on the Internet about something happening to the Nimitz. Seeing the great ship here frightened her in a new way. Supercarriers were the greatest war machines on the planet, and only something with cosmic power could snatch one from the ocean and deliver it here.
Their view of the Nimitz was obscured by part of the Norfolk’s superstructure and by the cranes and catapults on the stern. Still, they could see aircraft parked on the deck. They were fighters mostly, but also other specialty aircraft—two with elliptical radar domes—and helicopters. Elizabeth felt like a country bumpkin seeing a city for the first time, staring up at the skyscrapers. The Dawson part of her shared the feeling, intensifying it.
Compton shoved Jett from behind to get them moving again, pushing him after the other Crazies who were moving toward the stern of the Norfolk, following Prophet.
“It’s the Nimitz, Compton. It’s what we came for. Can’t you snap out of it?”
“Move or I’ll hurt you,” Compton said, her tone emotionless.
“Prophet wouldn’t like that,” Jett said.
Compton dropped her gun to Jett’s knee.
“I said I’ll hurt you, not kill you,” Compton said.
Jett didn’t move, daring Compton to shoot.
“Let’s go,” Elizabeth said to Jett through Dawson’s body.
Jett didn’t move.
“This isn’t the time or the place,” Elizabeth said.
Jett nodded, then he followed Roberto, who was still supporting the wounded sailor.
Ahead, Elizabeth could see that a rope bridge had been rigged from the Norfolk to the Nimitz. The bridge sloped steeply from the stern of the Norfolk to the flight deck of the carrier. It was a flimsy-looking contraption, essentially four cables drawn tight between the Norfolk’s cranes and two towers erected on the flight deck of the Nimitz. Ropes were woven around the cables, partially enclosing the sides of the bridge. Planks made up the bottom. People were crossing it now, coming from the Nimitz to the Norfolk, and Elizabeth could see more people on the flight deck. The
Crazies seemed to have moved their base of operations from the Norfolk to the Nimitz. Above the bridge was another cable, one end strung from higher on the superstructure of the Norfolk and the other end attaching somewhere on the flight control island on the starboard side of the Nimitz’s flight deck.
Elizabeth studied the Nimitz. Held perfectly balanced on its keel by the strange forces that had brought it here, the carrier was fully exposed. She could see the twin anchors pulled up tight to the ship, the sharp curves of the hull, and the protruding sponson which supported the runway angling across the flight deck. Then she noticed a man hanging by his hands from the flight deck, held by a rope around each wrist. After seeing the first man, she could see others, a half dozen of them hung across the piece of the bow that was visible.
As they neared the stern, Elizabeth spotted something in the desert below. Jett saw it too, drifting toward the rail. Two large machines sat on the desert floor, each shaped like a snail’s shell, cables running from them. Compton saw Jett’s interest and ordered him away from the side. Jett complied, but his eyes busily took in details of the machines in the desert, the bridge, and the placement of guards.
As they approached the bridge they were turned inboard and pushed through a hatch just forward of the catapults. They climbed down to the ship’s hangar. The hangar was by far the largest open space below decks on the Norfolk. Around its perimeter were repair facilities, parts storage, and barrels of oil and grease. The overhead hatch was open, and cables and hooks from the crane dangled above as if it had recently been used to lower something. Twenty men and women were gathered in the hangar. They were dirty, wearing homemade jewelry, decorated with tattoos, and brandishing weapons. They parted for Prophet like the Red Sea for Moses.
As Elizabeth and the others were led to the center of the group, she realized that three men here were different. All three lacked the jewelry and tattoos of the Crazies, two of them wearing green jersies, the third a khaki uniform. Elizabeth guessed that the men were from the Nimitz. They stood by what looked like pieces of aircraft.
“All finished?” Prophet asked.
“Yes, sir,” the sailor in khakis said.
“Excellent.”
Prophet waved Elizabeth and the others forward. Roberto still helped the wounded sailor, whose breath was even and regular now, even with the bloody hole in his chest.
“I want you to see this,”
Prophet said with his mouth closed, his voice reverberating in their minds.
They were pushed forward until they stood face to face with Prophet.
“Do you know what these are, Nathan?”
Prophet was talking to Jett like a father to his child, calling him by his first name.
The devices were large silver cylinders set in metal cages. Three black boxes were fixed below the cylinders, thick coils of wiring running from box to box and to the cylinder. Covering the cylinder were smaller devices that looked as if they were made out of plastic, two wires running from each.
“Well, Layton,” Jett began.
Prophet was shorter than Jett by three inches, but he was powerfully built with thick arms. He was also quick-tempered and fast; his right hand slapped Jett across the face before Jett could react.
“You will call me Prophet,”
Prophet said directly to their minds. Then, with his voice, he said, “I ceased to be Layton McNab when God called us to this place and anointed me his Prophet.”
“You ceased being Layton McNab when you lost your mind,” Jett said.
Prophet struck with his left hand, knocking Jett back a step. The man’s face was flushed, his lips tight. He was determined to bend Jett to his will, and Jett would rather die than bend.
“Not the time or the place,” Elizabeth said to Jett.
Jett spit blood from his mouth.
“You tell me when and where,” Jett said to Elizabeth.
Jett had been briefed on the Nimitz’s arsenal. He knew what Prophet had spread out on the deck.
“You’ve removed the thermonuclear warheads from two Tomahawk cruise missiles,” Jett said.
“That’s right, Nathan. Of course, I don’t understand exactly what makes them work—something about the atoms banging into each other. We didn’t have these when we fought the Nazis but I heard the Japs got a taste of a couple of these babies. I understand they pack as much explosive power as a thousand-plane raid.”
Prophet smiled, revealing yellow teeth discolored by years of chewing tobacco.
“Know what?” Prophet continued. “We just set one of these off!”
Prophet chuckled, and his people laughed with him.
“I know what you’re thinking—really, I do,” Prophet said, chuckling at his own joke, the Crazies joining in.
“You’re thinking that if one of these warheads has been detonated, then why haven’t we all been blown to pieces?”
Prophet turned slowly, dramatically, building suspense.
“We are here because God himself holds the atoms in the warhead tight in his protective hand, just like he holds us in his hand.”
Prophet held his hand out, slowly closing his fingers and clenching them tight as he spoke. The Crazies mumbled approval, some whispering “Amen.”
“And when the time comes—God’s time—he will release his mighty grip and the world will feel his wrath.”
With his arm still outstretched, Prophet flicked his fingers out, opening his fist. His face was red, his jaw set, his voice loud and firm. Then his lips curved into a smile. In seconds he had gone from maniacal to whimsical.
“Like I said, one of these bombs has been detonated, but you know, I can’t exactly remember which one.”
Prophet turned slowly, showing his smile to his followers.
“One of them is going to be sent home, but since I can’t remember which is which I’ll just have to guess.”
His followers laughed, enjoying his game.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo,” Prophet said. “Which one back to earth should go?”
Prophet pointed back and forth between the warheads as he spoke, enjoying the captives’ discomfort.
“Do you know one potato, two potato, three potato, four?” Jett said suddenly. “Five potato, six potato, seven potato, more.”
The Crazies were stunned into silence by Jett’s audacity. Prophet kept his smile, but his eyes stared hard at Jett. Elizabeth cringed, thinking Jett foolish to taunt a madman.
“Another good one is bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish, how many pieces do you wish?” Jett said.
Prophet lost his smile, his stare cold and hard.
“Quiet!”
Prophet boomed in their heads.
His game spoiled, Prophet was red with fury.
“Bring the bomb,” Prophet ordered. “And bring them!”
Crazies dragged Elizabeth and the other captives across the hangar. The warheads were both on dollies, and one was pushed ahead of them toward an inboard hatch.
“Let’s see what’s in here.” Prophet said, smiling again.
Prophet opened the hatch a crack, peeking inside, then turned his head to them with an expression of mock surprise.
“What could it be?” Prophet said.
Pulling the hatch open, Prophet stepped back, revealing a glowing green mist.
“I wonder where this leads?” Prophet said.
Prophet’s eyes bored in on Jett, waiting for a reaction. He got none.
With a quick hand motion from Prophet, the warhead was rolled to the hatch. When they lifted the front wheels of the dolly over the lip of the hatch, Jett tensed. Elizabeth stiffened, too. If Prophet had managed to detonate the warhead, once it reentered the world it would be released from the forces that kept it from going off.
“The scroll!” Prophet commanded.
A Crazy with long, dangling copper earrings made out of hammered shell casings stepped forward, holding out a paper roll tied with a ribbon. Prophet put the scroll inside the metal framework. Then he raised his hands toward the sky and spoke directly to their minds.
“To glorify you,”
Prophet said.
At his signal, the dolly with the warhead was pushed into the green mist. Closing and latching the hatch, Prophet looked pleased with himself.
“It’s time for you to be judged for your sins,” Prophet said. “Take them to the Nimitz.”
At the mention of judgment, excitement rippled through the Crazies. Prophet led off, Crazies falling in behind him like a palace guard. Elizabeth and the others were pushed after Prophet, guards in front and behind. Compton kept behind them, gun trained on their backs. Their path led them up to the deck of the Norfolk and to the stern, where the makeshift bridge connected them to the flight deck of the Nimitz.
Two could walk side by side on the bridge, but it would be tight; the Crazies crossed single file, spaced ten feet apart. The bridge creaked and groaned with each additional weight, swaying and bouncing with the movement of the Crazies. Roberto and the wounded sailor were the first of the captives onto the bridge. Then Jett motioned Elizabeth forward.
Pausing at the edge of the bridge, Elizabeth studied the planking, which was made up of a variety of wood and metal pieces. The sides were of rope strung between the upper and lower cables. The ropes merely outlined the sides of the rickety and steeply sloped bridge, hinting at safety but not promising it. With her hands tied behind her, Elizabeth couldn’t hold the cables for support.
BOOK: Ship of the Damned
5.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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