The Tide

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – TJ Ryan

Chapter 2 – R. Brady Frost

Chapter 3 – Michael Anderle

Chapter 4 – Emma Right

Chapter 5 – Adam Kayce

Chapter 6 – Sabrina Sable

Chapter 7 – Justin Sloan

Chapter 8 – Martha Carr

Chapter 9 – Sarah Dalton

Chapter 10 – J.L. Hendricks

Chapter 11 – Craig Martelle

Chapter 12 – Kat Lind

Chapter 13 – TS Paul

Chapter 14 – Katherine Hayton

Chapter 15 – RJ Crayton

Chapter 16 – E.E. Isherwood

Chapter 21 – H.J. Lawson

Bonus

About the authors

Chapter 1 – TJ Ryan

Kearyn

Bracing for impact, I stared down at the unmoving form that lay before me. The grotesque corpse was sprawled in the middle of the control room floor, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

The ship rocked and swayed, and I waited for the hit. It didn’t come this time, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Sephia nudged the corpse with the toe of her boot, and it squished slightly under her touch. She stared absently at it, unmoving and expressionless. Moving to stand next to her, I put my hand on her shoulder in a pathetic attempt to comfort her.

Suddenly the hit came and a loud crashing sound emanated from below us.

Kearyn, what the hell was that? Brody asked me from the far side of the room. I ignored him. After four days of sporadic impact, it no longer surprised me when we got hit.

Another loud crash and the ship dropped a foot, then steadied itself with a loud clang. I wasn’t prepared, and the quick freefalling sensation made me nauseous. I bit my lip, hoping not to be sick.

The lights went out and flickered back on a moment later. The red emergency light was flashing in the center of the room, but we had learned to ignore it. Not much we can do about it now, anyway.

The impact had knocked Finn to the ground, and he proceeded to crawl to the far wall, leaning against it for support. Brody raced to the control board, frantically pushing buttons in hopes that at least some combination would give us control of the ship.

It would help if we knew where the bloody hell we were, he muttered to himself as he continued to press the buttons to no avail.

My attention turned back to the immediate problem at hand.

I think he's still alive, Riley said, uncertain. She bent down to examine the body more closely, careful not to get too close. The look on her face suggested she didn’t believe what she had just said.

It, Sephia corrected.

I glanced up at Sephia, feeling sorry for the poor woman. The thing that lay on the floor is—was—her husband, Jacob.

We all stared down at what was once a human man. Whatever it was now, it didn't look human. And it certainly didn't seem alive. The corpse was mangled and barely recognizable. I’m unsure if what happened to him occurred before or after he died, but I prayed whatever it was happened after.

He's dead, I said with certainty.

It, Sephia repeated shallowly.

Her face was empty, her body as rigid as ice.

Sephia, I... I started. I didn't actually know what to say to her, so I trailed off without finishing the sentence.

A loud crash came from behind us, and the ship jolted aggressively, this time knocking more than a few of us off our feet.

What’s out there? Finn shouted, attempting to brace himself on the wall as he reached for his gun with his good hand.

Finn’s son, Walt, came racing out from the back of the ship to join us. Panting and nearly on his knees, he managed to say, The left engine. We’ve lost it. It completely tore off the ship. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees to keep from collapsing from exhaustion. He had been back there for hours, hoping to find out what’s wrong with the engine system.

And the right engine? I asked, afraid to hear his answer.

Walt nodded, catching his breath. It looks fine, for now. Same with the backup engine system. We should be okay if everything else holds up.

I nodded and made my way over to the front viewing window of the command room. That was good news, at least. I gazed out the window, for all the good it did me.

It was black.

It was all black, just as it had been for the past four days. We had no visuals of outside, no communication with the base—or any other ships, for that matter. We didn’t even know if we were still in the Earth’s atmosphere, or traveling blindly through deep space. We were also unsure if the wiring connecting the camera capsules to the viewing windows was disconnected, or if the black we were seeing was actually the blackness of space.

All ships were equipped with a minimum of three weeks’ worth of autopilot control, which was lucky as we had no idea how to man the ship. Not one of us on board had pilot training, and there were so many different control systems and engine rooms that we hardly knew where to begin.

And we couldn’t ask anyone, because the communication network was down, and no one on the ship had any training in that sort of thing either. The only communication we’ve had with anyone was when two personal escape pods docked to our ship as a result of the automatic protocols installed in all of the new pod systems. The first arrived yesterday, bringing Sephia on board. Sephia was a therapist, and God knows we could use one of those right about now—not that she was in any state to offer comfort at the moment. The second arrived this morning, carrying Sephia’s husband. Or at least, what was left of him.

I assume he contracted whatever virus was making its way across the planet, causing the mass exodus that, last we witnessed, left humanity in a psychotic state of panic. The United States was only equipped with so many escape ships and stations, and all order was lost when word got around that scientists had given up on finding a cure, believing a full evacuation of Earth to be the only way to escape the plague. Once word spread, the race to the ships became a bloodbath. If the virus didn’t wipe out society, then society would certainly take care of that themselves. It would seem that people would rather risk dying for the chance to escape than wait for the virus to take them.

I shuddered at the memory, looking around at the small group of eight that made it onto this large craft designed to take at least forty. Well nine, if you count Jacob. The crowd had gotten so violent, pushing and fighting to get to the ladders, tearing each other down every time someone new made it halfway to the ship’s bridge. There was so much damage being done to the ship that we had to take off right away or else risk losing the ship altogether. I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of the image. Those poor souls who lost their only chance at survival were stuck on Earth, likely dead or dying from the virus by now.

Looking down at Jacob’s misshapen body, though, it seemed to me that whatever it was that was spreading through the human race was far more than just a virus.

We need to get him off the ship. Now, Grace said weakly, drawing attention to herself for the first time since Jacob arrived. Grace was Jacob’s niece and had been in her fourth year of medical school at Johns Hopkins. She hadn’t spoken since he arrived, retreating to the floor in the far corner of the room with her head buried in her knees.

I’m not joking, we need to get him off, she said adamantly, her calm, steady voice learned through her doctor’s training finally taking over.

It, Sephia repeated impatiently. "That thing is not my husband. Whatever it is, that’s not Jacob."

Grace glared up at Sephia, and continued, Viruses don’t just disappear when their host dies. If he’s contagious, then we’re all at risk. We need to get him out of here.

A nervous murmur made its way through the group, and everyone stepped back from the strange-looking corpse.

How? I asked, returning from the window.

We will have to use the escape pod, Walt said confidently. We put him back in the pod he came in, and hope to God that it doesn’t attach itself to another ship.

Or return to ours, Riley finished.

I nodded. Alright, let’s do it. Quickly.

No one made any attempt to move toward the thing.

Oh for God’s sake, I said, exasperated. We got him on this ship. We can bloody well get him off. I removed my sweater and tossed it over the corpse, concealing at least some of the monstrosity. I reached down to grab hold of what was left of his clothing when Grace immediately jumped up and ran over to us.

Don’t touch the skin, she said to the room. Avoid any skin-to-skin contact, and try not to breathe too close to him. We don’t know what it is that got him, so best to be as careful as we can.

Doesn’t look like he’s got any skin left, so that shouldn’t be a problem, Walt remarked, looking down at the corpse with wide eyes. Doesn’t look like he’s got much of anything human left. Walt took a step back, apparently unsure what to make of the thing on the floor in front of him. He turned to look away, his face growing green.

Just...grab part of his clothing, and we’ll all lift him back to the pod bay, okay?

Everyone crowded around the corpse and grabbed hold of a piece of his clothing, many people opting to wrap their hands in loose pieces of their own attire.

On one, two... On three, we lifted the body and carried it to the opening that led to the pod. We had to swing it a bit to get it high enough to roll into the pod itself, but all in all, it wasn’t too big of