CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Clean for the first time in what felt like years. Sandra stared at the image in the steamed up mirror. It was the first time the woman had seen her face since all the madness had begun. She honestly didn't recognize the person staring back at her. The high cheek bones that had been hidden beneath a layer of fat were strange to her. The hard edge to the brown eyes regarding her was also foreign. A sudden knock on the door caused Sandra to tear her eyes away from the mirror.
"Sorry, miss. Commander Flynn asked me to see if you needed anything else." The young voice of Billy Webb, Spider to his crewmates, floated to her as Sandra pulled up the zipper of her borrowed coveralls.
"I'm fine, thank you," Sandra responded, opening the bathroom door. "Do you know where Captain Sharpe and the others are?"
"Yes, ma'am, they're in the mess hall. I can take you there if you'd like," Spider said. He was so young and eager to please. Distractedly, Sandra wondered if she'd ever been that young.
"Lead the way," Sandra said. If felt really strange to be in real clothes again. Even still, Sandra caught hold of her riflemen's' jacket and her weapon before she left the bathroom. Seeing the sceptical expression on Spider's open face Sandra felt she had to explain. "Force of habit."
"I don't think Buffer is going to be too happy with you wandering around with a rifle, especially that one. It looks old enough to blow up in your face the next time you use it," Spider responded. He was still standing in the corridor, showing no sign of moving.
"This rifle has saved my life more times than I care to think about. I'm not going anywhere without it," Sandra responded as she slung the too long Baker rifle over her shoulder.
Doubt played across the young man's face. Clearly torn, Spider began light bounding from one foot to the other while he weighed his options. Just as Sandra was afraid the boy was going to blow a gasket, Spider looked over her right shoulder. The relief that spread across his features was almost comical.
"Is there a problem, Spider?" a deep male voice rumbled behind Sandra. Suppressing a smile, she turned to fine Buffer standing there.
"She wants to keep her gun with her. Is that okay, Buffer?" Spider asked.
Buffer's dark eyes went even darker as he examined the Baker rifle. The barrel was so long it was almost laughable but Buffer could see that it was still a lethal weapon.
"You won't be needing that on board the Hammersley, ma'am," Buffer finally stated as his eyes shifted from the rifle to Sandra.
"You don't know that," Sandra replied, gripping the weapon a little tighter. "There's no warming when the fog or the creatures come. The one thing I've learned through all of this is to always be prepared."
"I'll check with Commander Flynn," was all he could come up with. If the woman's story was true, they'd survived incredible odds. He wasn't sure he wanted to be the one who refused to let them continue to live the same way.
"While you do that, could I please go check on my friends?" Being away from Sharpe and the others was beginning to drive her nuts. At the moment she would seriously consider giving up her rifle just to be with them.
"Take her to the mess, Spider. I'll know where to find her," Buffer said. Then he was walking back down the hall.
OOOOO
After following young Spider through what seemed like a labyrinth of hallways, Sandra was so relieved to see Sharpe and his men when she walked into the mess. She'd retained her rifle, with Commander Flynn's blessings, and her green jacket but the inside of the boat was too hot to wear it. Besides, she desperately needed to wash it first.
"How are you, captain?" Sandra asked, a broad smile spreading across her face. The riflemen were staring at her in her Australian Navy coveralls. Their scrutiny almost made her uncomfortable.
"I'm fine, lass," Sharpe responded after a heart beat. Seeing the woman in those clothes, looking so comfortable in these very strange surroundings, had reminded the captain that Sandra really wasn't one of them. The rifle and rifleman's jacket with its chosen man's patch was a comfort though. Clearly, she wasn't quite ready to abandon them yet.
"Have they had a chance to examine you yet?" Sandra asked. The silence was making her uncomfortable.
"No," Harris responded, shaking himself out of his stupor. "They are with Mr. Hornblower further down the hall at the moment."
As truly thankful as Sandra was to be in marginally familiar surroundings, she recognized immediately just how out of place the men of the 95th appeared sitting around a banquet table with Sharpe at one end and the too big Harper on the other.
"Where are Lane and Daniel?" Sandra couldn't stop herself from rambling. Chances were good that both men were taking showers as well. Now that she was clean, Sandra was painfully aware of just how badly her friends also needed to get clean. She doubted, however, that any of them would be willing to don the coveralls or that the ship would have extra for all of them anyway.
"I'm not sure," Harris admitted. He'd lost track of the men as they were led through this bizarre machine. The sounds it made, the feel of it, the light that shone steadily and the strange smells had overwhelmed him. He couldn't find his way back up to the top deck if his life had depended on it.
"Well, I suppose they can't get too far," Sandra stated. Propping her rifle against the bulkhead and hanging her jacket on it, she smiled at the riflemen and slipped back out into the corridor. She was only mildly surprised to find Billy Web waiting for her.
"Hi," Sandra said feeling a little awkward. She was feeling like she had one foot in Sharpe's world and the other in her own. It left her a little off kilter. "I'd like to go check on Mr. Hornblower."
"Who?" the young man asked looking mildly confused.
"The man in the short white pants," Sandra stated.
"Oh, him. Sure, follow me."
OOOOO
Down the too clean corridor and around a couple of corners, Sandra found the two British seamen in yet another mess hall. Horatio was lying on a hard table, stripped down to his waist. Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Midshipman Kennedy was sitting in the far corner of the room, trying to stay out of the way. Horatio's eyes were closed and he looked pale under the harsh fluorescent light.
"How's he doing?" Sandra asked quietly. One of the Hammersley's seamen was tending to Horatio. A stethoscope was draped around his neck and he'd started a saline IV in Horatio's left arm. A bright decal stuck on the bag of fluids indicated that he'd added an antibiotic to it.
"He'll be fine, miss," the man stated looking up at Sandra and smiling brightly.
"The other one I'm not so sure about," he added, still grinning.
A closer look at Archie and Sandra realized that the blonde young man did look decidedly unwell. Crossing the distance between them, Sandra knelt down in front of him and carefully placed her hands on his trembling knees.
"Archie?" Sandra asked, looking up into the boy's face. For a split second the expression on Archie's face when she'd caught Simpson with him played through her mind. "Archie?"
Forcing his bright blue eyes up until he was looking directly into Sandra's brown ones, for a moment Archie looked so completely lost, before he got a hold of himself. "Hello, Miss Sandra," he said quietly.
"Hello, Archie. How are you doing?" Sandra pressed gently.
"I'm worried about Horatio," was the first response she got.
"Mr. Blake here is taking very good care of him. He says Horatio will be just fine. Would you like to come out with me to get some air?" it was the first thing that had come to Sandra's mind. She hoped it would actually prove helpful. Glancing over at the Australian medic, Sandra got an approving nod. Apparently Blake thought it was a good idea too.
"I don't want to leave Horatio," Archie responded, almost in a daze.
"Mr. Blake will take very good care of him while we're gone, Archie. Right now I think we could both use some air," Sandra pressed. Catching hold of Archie's hands, she pulled him to his feet and began guiding him out of the room. Her only hope was that Billy was still there to lead the way.
OOOOO
"Feeling better?"
Sandra, Billy and Archie were leaning against the rail on the top deck of the Hammersely, enjoying a cool sea breeze. Billy had deliberately chosen the side of the boat upwind and way from the old wooden ship floated beside him. The thing kind of gave him the creeps.
"Much," Archie responded. Now that they were outside, the young midshipman really did look more like himself. He still had a bit of a green tinge to his young face though.
"This is a lot to take in," Sandra stated as she leaned against the railing and felt the wind ruffle her hair. As unsettling as the events that had brought her here were, she couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather be at the moment.
"How many times have you been through this, ma'am?" Billy asked. The rumours were all ready flying through the boat about what she'd told Commander Flynn. Spider wanted to hear it for himself.
"Ahhh," Sandra replied trying to run through the transitions in her mind. After a minute though, she gave up. They were all starting to run together. All she could really remember were the faces of the people they'd lost along the way. "Too many times."
"Spider, don't pester the woman," a voice stated from Billy's side of the railing. Looking beyond the young man, Sandra saw Buffer staring out at the ocean too.
"It's okay," Sandra responded, not wanting to get the kid in trouble. "We just needed some air."
"If what you say about those creatures is true, ma'am, being outside is probably not the best idea," Buffer said. He hated to admit it but it did feel good to be out in the clean sea air. Standing by the railing he could almost forget about the madness this woman had described.
"Probably," Sandra replied. "But it sure feels good."
"How are your companions doing?" Buffer asked, trying to change the subject. He loved the sea but couldn't seem to keep from staring out at the horizon warily. Wherever they were, the planet was smaller the event horizon was closer than he'd ever seen before. It was very disconcerting.
"Your medic, Mr. Blake, hasn't had a chance to look at the riflemen yet, he's been occupied with Mr. Hornblower," Sandra stated.
"Call him Swain, we all do," Buffer said. "Please, I really must insist that we go below now."
Hello. Anyone out there? I know Chechmade is still waiting for this story to continue. Your continued support means so much to me! Thanks for trying to keep me honest. I haven't forgotten about this story or the other three I am writing. Real life has other plans for my time. I'm updating as I can but I admit to being embarrassed by how short this update is. It was all that would come out in over two weeks of trying. I'll get better though. I plan to write on my lunch hours! I get bored after half an hour or so anyway.
Please accept my apology. It won't be over two months until I update again.
Susanne