SPACESHIP ZOMBIE CRUISE

FILE ENTRY 20.0

"I think we should only kill them if our life is in danger," I say, "in self defense."

"Are you kidding me?" Astra glares at me. "Enlighten me on what type of situation you wouldn't find life threatening."

Halo points the end of the broom stick at the steward. "You think that thing has any desire other than to eat us like raw steak, or hamburger meat?"

I swallow the queasiness rising in my throat. "No. But we don't know if they're dead yet, or beyond the point of no return. What if they're still alive in there somewhere? Think about Cap? Would you hit her with the wrench?"

"I wouldn't want to." Astra frowns and gnaws on her bottom lip. "But what if she tried to eat us? What would we do then?"

Halo scratches the top of his head. "We'd only kill her if it was our only option. As long she stays locked up in the bathroom, we won't have to worry about that, but if she gets out, or if someone else finds her and..."

I meet his gaze, which turns soft. "I don't want to kill her either. I want to save her, if that's possible. But those infected people out there have loved ones too, so I think we should do whatever it takes to defend ourselves, but kill them only when we have to."

"Agreed," Halo replies. "But I think it'd be wise to avoid being bitten at all costs. That could be a way the infection spreads."

I recall the horrible scene I witnessed on the Sea Breeze Deck, the boyfriend and girlfriend, apparently dying after being bitten and eaten and then coming back to life. It makes my heart sink when I think about Caprica. What I saw tells me that my friend has little or no chance of recovery. But I can't give up hope.

"He's right," I say. "We need to protect our arms and legs, those are the parts of our bodies they'll go for first...besides our throats."

"Wait a second." Astra lights up. She turns and disappears into the closet.

The steward flits her eyes in her direction.

When Astra comes back, she holds a roll of duct tape in her hands. I bite the inside of my cheek in thought. Duct tape has been around for centuries. It's usefulness almost unlimited, especially in a pinch. An idea comes to mind, one that might work.

I bend over and pick up a roll of paper towels off the floor. "Give me your arm," I say to Halo. He extends his hand tentatively and I begin wrapping his wrist and forearm with the entire roll. It's the kind of roll that doesn't come in perforated sections, which only makes it easier to coil and tear off when needed, so it works better for our purpose. After I have an inch of protective layers on his arm, I tear off the end and secure it with the duct tape. Then I cover his bicep. Tape it in place.

Halo bends and flexes his arm at the elbow. Nods his approval. "This'll work. Do my other arm."

I smile for the first time since, well, the Sea Breeze Deck when all hell broke loose. When I finish with his other arm and his shins—it doesn't seem feasible to use on our thighs—I wrap another roll of paper towels around each of Astra's arms and legs, and then hold still while Halo and Astra work on me. The entire time, the sick steward watches us, groaning and occasionally hissing when our movements are too quick for its liking.

"Wish we had our tablets," Halo says. "We could use them to bring up the blueprints you were studying the other night. Get an exact bead on the engine room."

I furrow my brows. "We can't risk a run back to our staterooms, but I have a lot of it in here." I point to my temple. "I know the engine room is below us. The blueprints were for tourist purposes only, electronic brochures for potential passengers. They didn't go into much detail when it came to specifics, like the layout of the engine room and all the entrances and exits."

"It'll have to be enough," Astra says. "Just don't die on us. You're the only one who took the time to study the ship."

"I'll do my best," I reply. "So which weapon do I get?"

Halo lets Astra hold the wrench and screwdriver while he snaps the head off the end of the broom. He uses his foot to break it off, leaving a sharp point at the end. The steward grumbles at the sound of the broom stick snapping into two pieces.

"I'll use the spear." Halo says.

"And I'll take the screwdriver," Astra replies, gripping the handle of the long tool.

I take the wrench and wield it in the air...wince. "This thing could do some damage, but remember, we kill only if we have to."

My eyes wander over Halo and Astra, giving our makeshift armor a once over glance. We look like a bunch of kids about to play an old fashioned game of war, except we're poorly armed. With a nod and a quiet acceptance of the risk we're about take, the three of us remove the shelving unit that leans against the door and leave the sick steward alone in the storage room, the florescent lights clicking off as the door closes behind us.

Halo leads the way since he has the longest weapon. But what disturbs me the most is a new development, one we weren't aware of until we entered the long hallway. The main lights on the ship have gone out, replaced by spaced out auxiliary lights which offer a dim glow above our heads and produce only enough light to see where we're going. It does little to illuminate the shadows that lay between the fixtures.

My heart thuds as I scan the dark confines of the corridor, fingers clutching the handle of the wrench. The hallway is quiet with remnants of the chaos splattered on the walls. At the end of the hall, we enter a secondary stairwell. We creep down the steps to the next floor and pause at the exit door, listening for signs of life, or death for that matter. With the passage clear and dark, we decide to take a right from the stairwell, venturing down another long hall. The decision is easy since a door lays ajar at the end. A sign on the door labels it as the ENGINE ROOM. The auxiliary lights on this level glow red instead of white and they blink on and off as if something went terribly wrong.

To find our way around, it isn't as difficult as we expect. And with no one to stop our advance, the Celestial Sea has the eerie feel of a ghost ship.

The three of us inch toward the half open doorway, Halo out in front with his spear-like stick, Astra behind him with the long screwdriver and me bringing up the rear with my wrench clutched in my hand, ready to strike, or run for my life, whatever the situation calls for. Then we hear the characteristic groaning of the infected somewhere in the distance, but our only choice is to push forward because for all we know, we could be the only hope for all the passengers and crew aboard the Celestial Sea. The only hope for Caprica and Adrianna, and the only hope for anyone still alive, including each other.