“You think the virus and the day being reset are related?”
Tally jumped down from the top of the pallet and landed right in front of Jack, making him flinch. “Of course they are. You really think that two things happening at the same time in the same place are a mere coincidence?”
“I guess not. Then how are they related?”
“I told you,” said Tally. “Pathwalkers are a force of good. They protect the world. And right now one is trying to protect people from this virus aboard this ship. That much is clear. There must be some way to save all of the passengers.”
“Well,” Jack said. “If this pathwalker is so righteous and helpful, why doesn’t hejust come out and help us directly. Why is he hiding?”
“I don’t know,” Tally answered. “I think it might be against the rules.”
“The rules?”
“Yes, the rules.” Tally seemed to be getting impatient with his questions again. Her temper was consistently short with him. “For magic to be successful,” she said. “It must be performed within the realms of certain restrictions. To break those rules could bring about catastrophe; especially when manipulating time itself.”
It was all sounding a little too hocus-pocus again for Jack, so he resumed his search of the cargo hold. He had a strange feeling that he was being watched, but he shook it away as paranoia. This was no time to get the heebie jeebies; he needed answers.
Up ahead there was a pallet stacked several feet high with blue, plastic crates. They looked like large beer coolers. Jack went over to them and looked for a label. There was none.
“I’m going to take a look in one of these boxes,” Jack shouted back to Tally.
She came over to help him. “There’s no label. What do you think is in there?”
“Only one way to find out.” Jack ran his fingertips over the box’s seams but could not find a way to open it. Carefully he tipped the crate onto its side, cringing when he felt something shift inside.
“There,” said Tally, pointing her finger at the crate. “In the corner.”
Jack examined the base and saw that one corner featured a keyhole. As he looked closer still, he could see that the cargo pallet had been stacked with the contents upside down; all of the lids were at the bottom. Jack could think of no reason to pack everything the wrong way up, other than to prevent people looking inside.
“We need to get this box open,” he said.
“I think you should just step away from there, right now. No sudden moves, okay?”
Jack didn’t recognise the voice coming from behind him, but it was thick with menace. Jack turned around to see a man standing behind him: medium height, average looking, and rather dumb-sounding when he had spoken – despite the threatening intent of his words. His accent was American. He sounded like one of those drawling cowboys from a grainy western. And just like a cowboy, he was pointing a revolver at them.
“Who are you?” Tally asked, not seeming to notice the firearm in the man’s left hand. “What are you doing down here?”
“I’ll ask the questions, lady. Why you snooping around other people’s property?”
“I am an employee of the ship. I am allowed to be here.”
“Not here, sweetheart. You need to back away and leave this area well alone.”
“This is a staff area,” Tally told him. “You are the one who must leave.”
The man waggled his gun at her. “D’you realise I have a gun pointed at your pretty -little face, lady? I’m not kidding around.”
“Shoot me,” she said bluntly. “Believe me when I tell you I’ll get over it.”
Sea Sick: A Horror Novel
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