Emilia

Thursday, April 21st, 2022 (30 days after the Shutdown)

It had taken longer than it should’ve to get back to the ship, but because of their relationship with Juan, it was hard to tell how they’d be received.

Would they be considered conspirators? And if they were, would they need to use the crater and magical hammer to exonerate themselves?

Jefferson had told them it would scare people even more when they knew about it, and by extension it would lead to unpredictable behavior. But they already crossed that line when her father decided to liquefy the Chief Engineer’s brains.

"It's too quiet," Jefferson noted as they hid just outside the clearing on the cliffside.

After watching Marcus and his group drag her father onto the ship from afar, they waited to see what would happen but for the past 15 minutes, they didn't hear a single sound from the ship.

"He might be in danger," Emilia whispered back.

Snorting at the comment, Jefferson gave her a pained smile. "He is the danger. C'mon."

Ah, yes. The words that everyone wants to hear when there are murderers aboard, she thought sarcastically.

The entire main deck was empty from what they could see which left the lower decks and the control tower. Ever since communications and electronics were shut down around the world, the control tower and the bridge were abandoned and locked away. Has the other group not returned from the scavenging yet?

The entrance to the bridge was still locked with a heavy padlock leaving the lower decks as their only option.

"Where the hell could they be?"

A thump from beneath their feet answered his question. Exchanging looks, they hurried to the lower floors. On the second flight of stairs, the sound of people coming upstairs forced them to hide in an empty room nearby. Found them.

“One of you stand guard outside. The rest of us will wait for everyone else to return. If his daughter and the black man don’t return by then, we’ll know that the beaner killed them and things will be in our favor,” Marcus Noren instructed the rest of his men as they made their way to Emilia’s floor of the accommodations building.

With only a small porthole providing sunlight, Marcus’ perpetual sneer transformed into something menacing as shadows cloaked his weathered face.

“Noren, we could beat a confession out of him if you’re so worried about the others’ thinking,” one of his men said.

Glaring at the one who’d spoken, he sneered. “Oh, trying to use our brain, are we? You idiot. The whole point of this is to make sure we aren’t suspected for Atticus’ death. If we beat him up, we can’t really say that he confessed on his own, can we? Don’t lay a finger on him and just watch him till we can lynch him.”

“Boss, don’t we need the body to prove it?” Jean Bain asked, his towering body making the others seem insignificant in comparison.

“... We could’ve. I didn’t want to ruin the crime scene. Let’s find the captain.”

After they'd left, the two of them descended to the lower floors. Meters away, her father was locked away in a room, his state unknown but she didn’t want to see him. How much of her father was left in his body? Who was to say that confusion wasn't another part of some act he was putting on?

"I… Let's do this some other time, alright?" Jefferson whispered.

Relieved, she didn't resist as he gently pulled her away from her cradle of worries.

Friday, April 22nd, 2022 (31 days after the Shutdown)

In spite of Marcus’ protests, her father’s fate was deemed uncertain as they couldn’t convict someone without knowing all of the facts. When it came time for Juan to take to the stand, he declined to talk, putting the entire trial process on hold.

That worked against him.

When the others saw the body and the blood on his clothes and saw the body of the Chief Engineer, an unspoken consensus had been reached. By last evening, the majority of the 12 remaining crew members became a part of Marcus’ faction.

But in a surprising show of civility, Marcus didn’t turn his beady eyes to Emilia and Jefferson. Instead, for the remaining hours of daylight he sent people out to graph the island now that they knew they were completely isolated.

By nightfall, a rough outline of the island was created with all the markings including the crater and the cottage marked as important spots. In the northern sections where the Chief Engineer had died, the high cliffs where she and Jefferson had hid were also marked due to the vantage point it gave of the entire island.

Fast forward to the early morning hours of today when there was still a fever dream of hope, Marcus announced a hunt. With all of their smoked fish almost gone, they had to replenish their pantry and unsurprisingly the crew was taken by the idea immediately. They left the ship that morning with extermination on their minds.

Katherine had recovered enough from her injuries on the first day to join her and Jefferson as they were sent out.

As they sat at the edge of the crater, the discomfort from her injuries was forgotten as Katherine asked them again, "Juan. Peaceful, mediator, funny Juan. He… killed? Are we talking about the same Juan?"

"For the thousandth time, yes, Katherine," Jefferson sighed, having re-explained yesterday's incidents.

"Just wanted to be clear. So the brown water is his doing too, but we've collectively agreed to blame it on the same magic meteor-hammer thing that saved us by killing the Banshees?" she queried. "Damn… and here I wanted to fish. How are planning on telling the others?"

"We aren’t. Too much and people will start to freak out," Jefferson explained.

"Aren't they already freaking out?"

Emilia looked at Jefferson accusatorily but he waved her off. "If we tell people without knowing all the facts, they'll come to their own conclusions. Instead, if we learn everything and then tell them, all of a sudden we become the figures of reason and we become safe."

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"Jefferson… someone has died," Katherine said softly as she watched the ripples in the water below spread outwards.

"... that's unfortunate but at least we know the extent of Juan’s symptoms. They amplify his emotions, strong enough to make him kill someone else. And the hammer… well it's fatal to humans."

They didn't talk to each other for a while, each of them preoccupied with their own worries.

Minutes later, a cough broke her away from her own.

"How about… I teach you how my Pa taught me to hunt?" he told them but Emilia knew it was directed to her.

No wonder he's single if this is how he's trying to make me feel better.

"No—"

"That sounds like a great idea," Katherine interrupted her, shooting Emilia a knowing look. "Don't be stubborn. We can’t fish anymore, so knowing the basics will only help you."

Dusting her shorts off as she got up, she muttered, "That's great. Let's all talk about hunting when my father is stuck in a room with the literal devil inside him!"

"Emilia, we've gone over this," Jefferson sighed. "If he is in a delicate situation, anything might upset it and make it worse."

"Or it might make it better."

"So I take it you don't want to learn?"

"... I do."

Walking towards the forest without another word, at the forest edge he turned with a hint of his signature wry smile. "You coming?"

***

Emilia flinched as cries erupted from deep within the forest.

"The others must’ve caught something," Jefferson mused as peered through the thicket of trees, trying to pinpoint where the noise came from. "Emilia, you've set up the snare wrong."

She'd been at it for the entire morning, trying to replicate the simple trap – or at least that's what Jefferson said – "Drag Run Snare". Katherine had taken to it immediately, already having gone back to the ship to get a spool of wire and setting up multiple traps nearby.

The idea was simple enough to wrap her head around. If they couldn’t find an animal burrow, which was significantly harder than she thought, Jefferson had shown her how to identify and track animals by their droppings or by a clearing in the leaves where they might’ve run through.

After finding a suitable location, they had to create the "run" using twigs and rocks to channel the animal into the area where the snare would be lying in wait to capture them. After the animal, like a rabbit or a squirrel ran through the trap, the snare would go around their neck and tighten.

But the so-called simple snare kept falling apart in her hands.

"Wow, I've never seen someone as terrible as you at hunting," Jefferson yawned, sitting in the shade of a tree.

"Because you suck at teaching!" she shot back as another attempt failed.

Chuckling at her frustration, he pointed in the direction of the beach. "How 'bout we try a different kind of hunting?"

But the water…

Noticing her confusion, he shrugged. “We’ll find a way.”

Unsure of what to expect when they arrived at the water, it seemed they weren’t the only visitors to the beach. Marcus and Jean Bain were discussing amongst themselves as waves of brown swill sloshed nearby.

A gust of air swept in from the bay, bringing with it a miasma of rank air. Gagging, she stumbled back to the nearest trees hoping they would shield her from the worst of it. "What's that smell?"

For once Jefferson wasn't sporting his stupid lopsided grin.

"I didn’t think it would be this bad…" he muttered under his breath. "There's just dead fish."

The polluted water. Overnight, the barrier of brown water that Juan had created had stretched to encapsulate the entire island. But based on the hundreds of dead fish on the beachhead, the barrier stretched several feet underwater. The natural harbor protecting the shore had received the worst of it.

Despite the harbor being 80 meters across, it hadn't been spared from the barrier's encroachment. Only one spot at the center was untouched.

As a group of people exited the cottage, the two of them instinctively dropped to the dirt.

“Boss, we can’t see any keys to a boat but there’s a paddle board in the garage,” one of them said, keeping their distance from the water.

“Leave it,” Marcus muttered, kicking a nearby fish. At the sudden exertion of force, the fish burst with the same brown water. Biting his lip as it splashed on his pale ankle, he narrowed his eyes at them. “Unless you’re volunteering to paddle across the water and try your luck in the center?”

Seeing them remain silent, Marcus returned to his conversation with Jean.

“There you guys are,” someone panted behind them.

Engrossed in the scene in front of them, they didn’t hear the crunching of gravel as the First Officer ran towards them.

“It’s an emergency!” he gasped as he held his knees between breaths. “Juan… he’s gone absolutely crazy! I’m not sure how to stop him.”

Not waiting to hear the rest, she charged past them. The weeds and plants covering the dirt road stood no chance as she tore through them, crushing them under her heels. Reaching the garden of statues, she could hear muted thuds coming from deep within the ship. Not again!

A couple of people standing outside the room warily watched her approach.

"He's calmed down now," Captain Oliver told her, his arms crossed in front of his chest as if he was wondering what to do. "Of course we didn't enter when it started but God awful noises were coming out of this room. Emilia, he's becoming a danger to himself and others."

"Open it."

"Excuse me?"

"If he's in trouble, I'm going to help him."

"I can't consent to that. If he attacks you and harms you, there isn't much on this ship to help you."

"He won't attack me," she declared stoically. "I'm his daughter. He would never harm me."

Exchanging glances with the crew members in the darkened hallway, he relented. "Let me check it out first, and then you can follow."

Raising the last remaining lantern on the ship to the room's porthole, he whispered, "I think he's asleep."

It was as if a raging bull had been unleashed into the room. Dents the size of billiard balls were practically covering every inch and shallow gouges like claw marks decorated the room in streaks of blood. His hammer must've done the dents and then… Looking at his bloodied fingertips, she grimaced. His hands must've done the rest.

He looked so peaceful when he was asleep that she couldn't believe it was the same person.

“I fuckin' knew we should've taken care of him,” Marcus growled, forcing himself into the room. His bald head was coated with sweat from his desperate run as if he’d been waiting for this moment. “We don’t need more monsters while we sleep. Get rid of him.”

Some were muttering but no one challenged him.

“I think that might be too much, Marcus,” the captain nervously chuckled. “We don’t know what caused him to change this much, but the Juan we all knew was a kind person. To kill him without knowing what the cause is… we can’t just kill someone.”

“But it already happened, innit? It’s happened multiple times already,” Marcus said, stepping closer to the captain.

Before the captain could respond, a grave voice interrupted them. Her father was trying to form words but no sound came through his lips.

“Get him some water!” Mr. Daniels cried, sending one reluctant crew member scrambling to the cafeteria.

“Unbelievable. We’re wasting water on a dead man,” Marcus huffed, with no desire to be discrete.

After the man returned and handed the bottle to Emilia, she carefully trickled some into her father’s mouth. She watched him suck at it and the words finally came out.

“Run…”

Run? Why is he telling us to—

“You must… get off… this island,” he croaked and then his body went limp.