Sea Sick: A Horror Novel

The elevator doors opened and Jack leapt through them. He had only meant to step forward, but his anger made his every move erratic with aggressive twists, flinches and twitches. The fury inside of him was like nothing he’d ever felt before. By making Jack trust him, Donovan had made him feel like he had somehow played a part in Tally’s torment.

Jack was going to find Donovan and kill him. Then, when the day reset, he was going to kill him again. And then again and again for as long as this whole thing lasted. Donovan would spend the rest of his days suffering by Jack’s hand. That was the only way to gain even a modest amount of justice.

But it will still never be enough.

Jack expected Donovan would already be en route to one of the ship’s drinking establishments by now. Carlo’s Casino seemed to be the man’s favourite hangout if the past couple of weeks were anything to go by.

The cosy, green-carpeted games room was on the top deck of the ship: the Eagle Deck. Jack had drunk at the bar there a few times now, with and without Donovan. It was a lively place.

But the casino was empty this early in the day and the few gambling tables were mostly unoccupied as Jack entered. Over by the roulette table, though, was exactly who he was looking for.

Donovan seemed pleased to see Jack and lifted his glass in the air. “Hey, pardner! How you doing?”

“You son of a bitch!” Jack sprinted across the room and made it over to Donovan before the man even had time to lower his drink. He was completely unprepared for the blow from the Glen Grant bottle, which cracked his skull right above his left eyebrow. The bottle did not break.

As Donovan fell backwards onto the floor, the small gathering of people inside the casino screamed and backed away to the corners of the room. Jack looked down at Donovan, who seemed shocked and confused. He held a hand out in front of him defensively. “What the…what the hell, pardner? I thought we were friends. Why would you…”

“You’re going to regret the day you ever laid a finger on Tally, you piece of shit.”

Before Donovan had a chance to reply, Jack bashed his skull in until the heavy whisky bottle finally broke. He was quickly arrested and spent the remainder of the day in the brig.

Tomorrow, Jack intended to do the same thing all over again.



Day 234

Jack had taken care of Donovan a dozen times now. Sometimes Jack would fail to find him, while other times he would find the man hiding out in one of the bars or trying to blend into the crowd on the Sun Deck. Whenever Jack spotted Donovan he attacked with a righteous fury that only seemed to grow each time they met. Sometimes Jack would bludgeon Donovan to death like he had with the Glen Grant bottle; sometimes he would use a knife; and the last time he had thrown the man overboard. But no matter how many times he killed Donovan it never made Jack feel any better.

At first Donovan had fought back Jack’s murderous advances, but after failing to defend himself – even with his concealed handgun – the man had resigned himself to being murdered. He became more interested in hiding from Jack than trying to stop him, but Jack had become an unstoppable menace, unwilling to accept any outcome other than Donovan’s death.

But he was already beginning to tire of the violence. It had left a ragged dent in his soul and clawed at the sickly wound that had been opened years before. Jack had allowed rage to overcome him once before when Laura had died. It had left him numb inside, broken and weary.

Maybe what he needed more than Donovan’s death was some answers. Perhaps Jack needed to understand the pervert’s motivations in order to gain closure. He wanted to hear Donovan beg for his life, repent for his sins. Simply killing the guy was not enough anymore.

Jack checked all of the ship’s bars and all of the restaurants, but Donovan was nowhere to be found. It was early in the day so most of the passengers were outside in the sun, which made it easier to search the Kirkpatrick’s interior. But, after almost two hours of looking, Jack had come up empty. Wherever Donovan was right now, he wasn’t in plain sight.