Emilia

Sunday, May 8th, 2022 (47 days after the Shutdown)

As the door shut behind them, Emilia became aware of her breathing. In the darkness, everything became amplified from the sound of their deliberate steps to the rough surface of the walls that guided their outstretched hands.

Stifling her breathing, based on memory she knew where she was. She was on the base floor, with the empty infirmary somewhere down this hall. A few steps forward, she would find the stairs down to the second floor, where the secret room awaited her… and her father.

Closing her eyes as Emilia let her instincts take over, she felt Katherine’s hand on her back as she looked to her for guidance.

“Why don’t we take some food from the cafeteria? We don’t know when we’ll be able to eat again,” Jefferson suggested, his deep voice overpowering the silence of the hall.

“Are you stupid? We don’t know when Marcus will come back. If we knock over something by accident, the noise will attract the guards outside and they’ll know we’re onboard the ship instead of hiding somewhere on the island,” Katherine hissed back.

They descended the stairs, their ears straining to pick up the faintest of clues as their eyes failed them.

“This is it,” Emilia whispered as she reached the landing pad.

She ran her left hand along the metal frame of the ship, counting in her head as she began to walk.

“1, 2, 3…” she hesitated as she stopped in front of the first door.

On the other side, whimpering like a beaten dog was her father… or whatever had taken his place.

“... 9, 10, 11… and 12,” she finished, pushing her bittersweet memories and the heavy cloak of regrets to the back of her thoughts.

I’ll fix him… one day.

Letting her arm work its way downwards, she found the hidden notch and pulled it towards her. Silently opening from the number of times her father and she had oiled it, she ducked inside. Fumbling around, her fingers wrapped around a familiar switch and she pressed it. The sudden burst of light was blinding, forcing the shadows to retreat as they were replaced by a weak blue light.

“Holy shit…” Jefferson muttered in awe as he looked inside the room full of supplies. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?”

“We were sort of busy getting chased by Banshees, having my father go psycho, and having Marcus try to lynch us. My bad I forgot,” she huffed, pleased at his reaction. “Well, are you coming in?”

Checking all of them entered, Emilia quickly peeked outside to make sure they weren’t followed and then shut the small door. They’ll never know that we’re here. Lowering Mr. Daniels onto the cot in the corner, she watched the elderly first officer weakly smiling at her.

“Thank goodness we have you. I couldn’t imagine surviving more than 2 days in that cottage eating… plants, getting treated like livestock.”

“How about replacing your bandages first before we give our thanks,” Katherine said, picking up a first aid kit thrown in one side.

She waited, listening to the first officer grit his teeth in pain. Jefferson had already fallen asleep, the night’s exploits having drained him of his remaining strength.

After Mr. Daniels had been bandaged, Katherine leaned back against the wall and smiled at her.

“Thank you, Emilia.”

“You don’t have to worry about light leaking out. I’ve tested it before and this room is sealed.”

Closing her eyes, she smiled. “I’m sure you did. Juan would be proud. You know that, right?”

Emilia didn’t deign to reply, averting her eyes at the topic of her father. She wondered if the situation would be any different with him here, instead of in solitary confinement where he was trapped with demons. Maybe he would’ve thought about this place sooner.

Tired of everyone trying to comfort her, tired of the Flare and the fear of the Banshees returning, tired of being marooned on a dinky little island, she reached over to the lantern.

“Lights out.”

Saturday, May 10th, 2022 (49 days after the Shutdown)

In the dark, there was no way to tell the passage of time. Only by the rotation of the guards did they know that some period had passed but even that became infrequent. Every time they thought the coast was clear to let in fresh air, the ship's creaking made them rethink their options.

It was almost summer and with the ship's vents cut off, the panic room quickly became a hell of its own. With limited chances to open the door, the stench of their sweat and piss became trapped, making them gag for every breath they took.

That was the last of their worries as Mr. Daniels’ situation deteriorated.

The smell had been masked by the surrounding rust but as the last time they turned on the lantern, the floor was covered in blood. The former first officer's hair was drenched with sweat and anguish was inlaid heavily on his shrunken form.

"Water. We need water," Jefferson muttered, his anger at being woken up eclipsed by disbelief.

Grabbing their remaining bottle with unsteady hands, Jefferson splashed a bit of their scant supply on the elderly officer's eyes. The silence thickened while they waited for some visible reaction until Emilia tenderly touched his shoulder when he finally opened an eye.

Oh, thank god, she inwardly thought, smiling at Mr. Daniels’ disgruntled face.

“Can’t you let a guy rest in peace,” he protested before the pain from the gun wound caught up to him. Letting out a moan as his short-lived stoicism collapsed, he whispered, “Could you turn the light off? Why did you guys wake me up?”

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“You’re bleeding,” Jefferson gaped in astonishment as if he couldn’t believe that much blood could be in one human.

“Really?” the former first officer muttered in apparent apathy. “You sure it's blood?”

“No, it’s fucking fruit juice,” Katherine scorned. “Of course it's blood! We have to redo your bandages before you bleed anymore.”

As Katherine reached toward his abdomen, Mr. Daniels stopped her with a frail hand. His skin had lost its elasticity and become translucent to show the veins tucked underneath.

“It’s pointless, dear,” he croaked, as he shifted in discomfort. “Unless you can get the bullet out of my torso, there’s no way my body can knit itself… together.”

Paying no heed to his resignation, Katherine turned to Emilia who broke out of shock as Katherine grabbed her shoulders.

“Is there anything I can disinfect my hands with?!”

“S-Sanitizer… there’s hand sanitizer beside the cans of beans,” Emilia managed to say.

“That’ll do,” she said, racing to get the small bottle.

“Katherine—”

“Nope. Don’t you say something stupid like ‘give up’. I’m not letting you die,” she muttered, grabbing a piece of cloth and placing it in the former first officer’s mouth. “Bite down. This is gonna hurt like hell.”

Complying with her instructions, Mr. Daniels' jaw worked on the piece of cloth in his mouth. Grabbing his trembling hand in hers, Emilia prayed for his health. With a terse nod, Katherine undid the bandages and went to work.

***

Mr. Daniels passed out as soon as Katherine’s fingers entered his wound. As she sifted through sinew and flesh the wound puckered at her touch, sending fresh blood flowing out. Finally retracting her fingers with a stunted slug, she flushed out the wound and wrapped fresh bandages around his abdomen. Monitoring him until his chest finally settled into a soft rhythm, Katherine let out a sigh.

"15 years since I left nursing and I never imagined I would be using it like this," she said, staring at Emilia’s hands still clamping Mr. Daniels'. "You can let go now. He's not going anywhere."

"I know. I wanted to anyway," Emilia replied, withholding herself from voicing her fear; that Mr. Daniels had no hope of recovery.

The light was turned off and the secret room settled into a cradle of disquiet. Sitting down beside the cot, her clothes soaked the blood that had spilled from Mr. Daniels, becoming damper. … Is it a miracle that’s keeping him alive if he’s lost this much blood?

The ceiling above her creaked in the dark and through the walls, she could hear her father’s growls as if his pent-up anger was waiting for release. It might’ve been 2 days since they hid and after the first 4 patrols entered the lower level, the overall activity had declined. Maybe they’ve given up on us—

“Marcus is going on another fucking rampage,” a voice muttered — it was the former captain, Oliver. “Why can’t he let them go? He’s obsessing over them.”

Emilia heard a thud as someone on the other side leaned against the door. Ah… shit. They were trapped.

“Be careful what you say. One whiff of treason and he’ll beat you to an inch of your life… just like he did to Nolen,” another one warned. “But who gives a shit what he does to them? It's either us or them. There’s not enough to go around anymore, so the sooner they leave the better. I'm genuinely too tired to give a damn anymore.”

“... you knew them once before. How can you say that straight-faced as if you no longer value their lives?”

“I would ask you the same question. Why did you shoot the first officer when he was a close friend?” he badgered. "Because we had to survive."

With her head on the other side of the wall, Emilia heard the captain whisper under his breath, “... I never wanted to.”

“Forget it. We might as well rest here until Marcus gets back in the evening to decide whatever the hell we're gonna do next. I'm praying he brings back something this time."

"Even if Marcus finds food, we will be treated the same. If we can't do anything noteworthy, we won't even get a scrap."

"..."

She heard the other man slump to the floor in defeat.

"I want to go home."

***

A gentle squeeze of her hand woke her from her sleep. Forgetting where she was for a second, she flinched hearing Mr. Daniels' hoarse voice.

“Emilia?”

“Yeah, what happened?” she whispered back, remembering there were people on the other side that wanted to kill her.

“Don't take alarm at my words but I fear that I'm not going to make it.”

Emilia pursed her lips and listened. Again. Why do you have to talk about that?

Taking note of her silence, he continued.

“Thank you for not making this harder than it already is. I've already come to terms with it… and I think the other two have already done so but they’re stubbornly not admitting it. My body feels hot and if there was anything in my stomach… I would've thrown up. Guess that's one good thing about starving,” he joked but his humor fell flat. “My body is so numb. I'm not sure what to say. I've been shot yet I'm not filled with regret. More exciting than I imagined and… I suppose it's faster than starving to death.”

The former first officer stopped to catch his breath as he collected his thoughts.

“For the past 23 years this boat has been my home and the people on it have been my family.”

What a dysfunctional family.

“I-I… don't know what else to say… I’m rambling aren’t I—”

Air hissed from his throat as if his lungs were deflating and with a guttural cough that shook the room, Emilia felt clots of blood splatter on her face.

Shit.

On the other side of the door, people began to stir.

“What the hell was that noise?”

Mr. Daniels covered his mouth as subsequent coughs rattled his weakened frame, but the damage was done. Emilia could hear them starting to check the hallway, knocking on the walls to find a cavity.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

There were no weapons with her and if they decided to give up on searching and just shoot through the walls… it wouldn’t take long to get them. Without a light, the darkness concealed them but she could hear Katherine and Jefferson’s panting as they woke up. There were two ways this would end: die by bullets or by carbon dioxide poisoning.

THUD, THUD, THUD… THUNK.

The sounds stop right next to her head. It's over, Emilia thought as her trembling hand reached for her mouth, as if to suppress an involuntary gasp. As the realization settled in and the entire ship fell into an eerie silence.

“Oh, oh wow. I know there are people in here. Do us all a favor and come out on your own. If not… you can taste lead. You have three seconds,” the other man warned.

He couldn’t know for certain if we’re here or if it was just an empty section of the hull. He’s bluffing—”

“3.”

No, he’s still bluffing.

“2.”

… what if he actually knows? He was the captain…

“AAAAAND time’s up.”

A hand reached past her and pushed the door open.

“There you guys are, you fuckin’ rats.”