Nazdar! More death and destruction! Will there ever be an end! And just who is Zoe Monroe!

For those of you that have forgotten, she is the wife of the scientist that Chris pulled overboard in Chapter 17 so she is understandably upset but at least she isn't dead, which is more than you can say for most people who have the misfortune to stumble into my story. So, anyway, I said seven people survive the wave, and if you are keeping up, you will see eight are left…

SO WHO IS UP FOR THE CHOP NEXT?

You have to read on, to find out…

Of course, this chapter was brought to you by The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy (Don't Panic), Red Dwarf VI and Red Dwarf II.

Cheers!

P.S. www.joinme.info

R.R.S. James Clark Ross

8.37 P.M. December 1st, 2004

It had been Roddy McIntyre and Oliver Cole that had been amongst the first to find the infirmary empty after one whole day. The pair of them had been down in the engineering spaces since they had set out, keeping a close watch on the various leaks that had been patched-up after the James Clark Ross' encounter with the surge in Aberdeen. McIntyre had been awake now for four whole days, Cole for two, and they were both on the way back to their separate bunks for some very well deserved rest.

They had decided that the patches would hold for now, but McIntyre had left the only surviving engineer beside himself to supervise, because he hadn't got where he was today by being incautious. He was thinking that they might be okay, that they might just make it alive from this hell, but he was mostly thinking how he was going to collapse on his bunk and sleep until the sun came out again.

Whenever that might be, he thought through the fog of exhaustion.

It was then he heard the pounding of the shoes coming from behind. Both he and Cole turned to see Tony Willis jogging towards them. He came to a halt, breathless.

"The infirmary," he gasped. "Follow me." Without waiting for a reply he turned about and began to jog steadily back the way he had come. McIntyre and Cole shared a glance and began to trot after him.

It dawned on the engineer after a minute that they were following the weatherman to the infirmary and he suddenly remembered the three stowaways the Captain had locked inside. It must have been nearly two days since then, and almost as long since that thought had even crossed his mind. He wondered if the Captain had let them out yet.

When the pair of them caught up with Willis, stood beside the door of the infirmary, now hanging crookedly from one hinge and with the lock splintered, he decided that the answer was probably not. He stood for a second, observing the broken door, knowing without seeing that the infirmary was empty. Finally he spoke.

"Tony," he ordered. "Get up to the bridge, tell the Captain."

"Right, Roddy," Willis said as he turned and left.

"Okay, Ollie, lets find our stowaways."

It didn't take long. Not far from the infirmary were the crew's cabins, and one thing in particular caught McIntyre's attention immediately. Simon Campbell was – had been – one of his junior engineers and had been working on the hull at the time the surge had struck. So, obviously, he was dead. Drowned or smashed to pieces. But wherever he was, he wasn't on the ship, so why was a light showing beneath the door to his cabin? He nudged Cole in the ribs and pointed to the chink of light. Cole nodded with a grin.

Slowly, carefully McIntyre reached for the door handle. So intent he was on his task he never felt the ship shudder hard as the rogue wave struck. Instead he just pushed open the door, saw for a moment the heads of the three stowaways swing their faces towards him in shock. The woman, dressedincongrously in a purloined white t-shirt and camouflaged combat pants, leapt up from the bunk to her feet, causing the blond-haired man with his head asleep on her lap to fall to the floor as he was suddenly woken up. The other man, sat in the far corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, fixed his eyes on the engineer expressionlessly and looked to be about to say something when the woman beat him to it.

"This isn't what it looks like," she said, moving towards McIntyre and blocking his entry to the cabin.

"Oh I'm sure," he replied.

He had barely registered the lights all around him flickering when he heard the crash as the door at the end of the corridor was blasted off its hinges by a surge of brilliant blue water. His eyes widened with fear as the cataract bore down on him and Cole, and it was by pure instinct and nothing else he was able to grab hold of the doorframe in front of him before the roaring water crashed into his body. The current tore at his legs as he clung on desperately. For one second he thought he was going to make it, when suddenly the woman was dragged bodily from the cabin and straight in to him.

For what felt like an eternity his fingers clutched frantically at thin air as they were torn free, then his world was filled with noise and cold and pain and chaos as he was whisked off down the corridor. He fought furiously to keep his head above water, thrashing his arms and kicking like a mule.

He suddenly felt like he was falling, but he was by now so disorientated that he hadn't the faintest clue what was happening. All he knew was that his throat had filled with water and that there was an almighty burning pain trying to burst out from his chest. And now there was nothing beneath his feet and he was definitely falling. He decided, distantly, that this was what drowning must be like…

Then with an impact like a train driving into a mountain he hit something. Something hard. He opened his eyes to find his back pressed against a bulkhead with chest-high water flowing away to his left down another passageway. He gasped with cold and breathlessness, dripping and shivering and with no real idea as to where the hell he was or what had happened. All he knew was that he was at the foot of some stairs down which cascaded a waterfall of pure blue seawater.

Suddenly he saw a dark shape rushing limply down the stairs towards him. A flash of trailing blond hair told him that the body was that of the woman. He automatically thrust out his hands and grabbed hold of her before she could be taken away to the depths of the ship. He held her in his arms and looked around involuntarily for help, of which there was none.

He looked down at her face, lolling backwards unsupported. He noticed her skin was pale and pinched, her long blond hair clinging to his arm and the very tips of it trailing forlornly in the current. She looked dead, he had seen drowning before and it was never, ever pretty.

Mercifully she coughed once, twice, water pouring out over blue lips. She moaned softly, then much louder as she came around and felt the pain in what McIntyre could see was a clearly broken left arm. His stomach rose as he saw the bone pressing against the skin of her exposed upper arm. The woman's moan changed to a wail, and finally to a raw-throated scream of shock and agony. She began to shake wildly in his grasp, and his voice joined hers as he cried for help, their calls echoing throughout the dying James Clark Ross.

-

The last member of the crew to die was also the youngest. Twenty-year-old Paul David was an apprenticed engineer onboard the James Clark Ross. He had been the one assigned to keep an eye on the ship's battered hull, to prevent any leaks becoming fatal. He was tired, and cold. He had tried not to nod off, but he had slumped gratefully into a seat at a console and, lulled by the monotonous pounding of the engines had finally succumbed to the sweet lure of sleep.

He was woken – briefly – as a five-foot high surge of water blasted into him. The cold shocked him instantly awake, and he found his feet and began looking for a way out. He thrashed through the water towards the hatch on the aft bulkhead, struggling with every step to keep his footing. So focussed he was he didn't even notice it was closing until it was halfway shut. He let out at a despairing wail and doubled his efforts. Now far less careful he pushed on, fear powering his body. Despite this, the last thing he ever saw was the hatch sliding to a close as the surge whipped his feet away, dragged him under, and drowned him…