Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
JETT
The hallway was empty when they emerged from their quarters for the last time. Jett scanned the hall, looking for anything out of place in that long, featureless expanse of doors.
The Senior Officer Wing was eerie now that the majority of the crew had evacuated or disappeared to join the hordes of Affected on the streets of the City below.
Jett hadn’t looked at the list of missing, the people now presumed Affected; he didn’t want to see his friends, colleagues, and former subordinates on there, knowing that they were lost for good.
He’d lost too many people over his life to want to add more names to the litany that ran through his mind.
Jett’s only comfort was knowing that he and Eddie would be two of the last living people off the ship. And they would leave together. Eddie was too stubborn to leave him behind, even if Jett insisted. Not everyone had that small luxury.
The walk to the elevators stretched; it felt like fingers grabbed onto his legs and arms, dragging Jett and Eddie back toward their quarters.
Pulling them back into the horror that was brewing on the streets of Neo-Tokyo.
Jett tried to brush the feeling aside, focusing on the recent past, on the people that they had saved already.
The evacuation went smoothly, at first. The first hundred thousand people got off the ship quickly.
But after that it was obvious that the number of people Affected had climbed.
They appeared overnight and between blinks of the eye; clogged the streets, slowing down the evacuation, and the number of missing skyrocketed.
Lifeboats launched at only 60—70% capacity; now it was 40—50%.
Tension rose and morale dropped in the Crew that remained.
Some Officers felt that they were being sacrificed for the rest, and in a way they were.
But the majority needed a chance to escape.
Jett emphasized to his people that the quicker and cleaner the evac was, the sooner they would get their chance to leave.
It had only helped a little and those who remained grumbled while they did their jobs.
Finally the elevator lobby materialized around a corner and the phantoms that dragged Jett back released their grip.
He rushed forward, scanned his tab to call the elevator, and stepped back.
Access was severely limited now; only a preselected list of Officers could move freely throughout the ship.
He trained his rifle on the doors, uncertain which would open for them and if anything would be in there when it arrived.
Eddie stood beside him, their bag slung over his back, rifle held in his hands.
He looked ridiculous. Eddie was no fighter.
He barely could handle a rifle in the safe confines of the Range.
But he had taken it from the bed, checked it properly, and followed Jett without a word.
He appreciated that Eddie put in the effort.
They both knew that if anything did happen, Jett would be the one to finish it.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Nothing emerged from inside. They filed in and Eddie tagged them to the Bridge level. The doors closed without a sound and the elevator started its slow ascent.
“What do we do when we get up there?” Eddie’s voice was too loud in the small space, echoing off the alloy and glass walls.
Jett looked out over the lights of the City while he thought over the answer. “It depends on what we find.”
In Districts 3 and 4 where the largest star-scrapers stood, all was still. He turned to the other side, hoping to get a peek at Districts 1 and 2, but they were on the wrong side of the support pillar. He would have to check when they reached the Bridge level.
Jett turned to Eddie who stood by the door. “If the Bridge is empty, then we summon whoever you need to run the ship.”
“And if the Bridge is not empty?” Eddie’s voice shook, drawing out the ‘s’.
“Then I deal with whoever—or whatever—is there.” The elevator slowed, stopped, and Jett poked his head out the door as it opened, his rifle raised.
The hallway was clear.
There was no evidence of anyone having been on this level. No signs of anyone passing, no signs of anyone present. Jett clicked the safety back on, lowered his arms. He relaxed, kept himself loose but ready.
It was never this quiet in the heart and soul of the Neo-Tokyo. Jett suspected that they wouldn’t find what they were looking for on the Bridge.
Something slick and cold trickled down Jett’s back, his arms, his legs. It pooled in his boots, seeping between the seams. Phantom blood, always dripping down his limbs, off his fingers, stained everything he touched. Blood was the shadow Jett left in his wake.
They arrived at the door quicker than expected, the tension snapping like a cord. Everything fell back into place. The sensor light flashed, recognizing the Captain, and the door hissed open. The sound crept down the hall, slipped up Jett’s spine as he anticipated the worst.
The Bridge was cloaked in shadows, dimmed tab panels barely lit the desks they sat upon.
Jett held up a hand and stepped forward, finger clicking the safety back off. Eddie stepped back in his peripheral, getting out of the line of fire.
Lights flickered on as he stepped through the door, dim at first but brightening quickly. They flashed over desks, over chairs, over open doors. But not blood or broken glass or abandoned tabs. Jett did one loop along each wall and then they crossed to the Control Room.
It, too, was empty, but that wasn’t the worst of it.
“We do not have communications,” Eddie said, a look of concern and fear on his face.
“Fuck,” was all Jett could say.