"Tell me again why they want us to go searchin' around the ship," Persephone questioned as she and Lucas rode the little boat out into the bayou.
"Cuz they hate us n' think we're expendable."
"If they didn't find what they were lookin' for when they were here last, what makes them think we will?"
"Dunno, Pers. But they're gonna make us try anyway."
He was certainly right about that. From what she'd seen of the Fuckin' Company, they didn't give a shit about employee safety. She and Lucas had nothing except wading boots, flashlights, and some random mission.
"Find th' D-series," Lucas explained. "They say we'll 'know it when we see it', whatever th' hell that means."
Once near the ship, he docked the boat as close to the ground the ship had pushed up as he could get. He stepped out into the ankle-deep muck and grabbed hold of her hands to help her out, too. She was immediately thankful to be wearing her boots as the ambient chill crept into the leather. The water was probably freezing cold from the overcast day.
Lucas led her along the treacherous path. They had to duck under twisted metal and jutting pipes before they reached the busted up ship. It was barely holding onto both its halves. A grubby and unsafe ladder faded in the fog upon the top decks.
"They said t' get in through here," said Lucas.
"Who's goin' first?"
Lucas stepped onto the bottom rungs and gave a little jump. "Hmm, seems sturdy enough. Maybe you should go first, though. 'Case it collapses."
"Ah, I'm the guinea pig."
"I meant t' catch ya if ya fall."
"A likely story."
He playfully rolled his eyes, and she couldn't help but trust him, misplaced as it was. There was something about his playfulness, about how he'd helped her get from the boat to the ladder by holding her hand, by the banter they shared that reminded her so much of her old Lucas. She trusted that Lucas. So she scaled the ladder, trying to ignore the creaking and groaning metal.
The ladder chilled her hands and slipped under her fingertips. A layer of grime had clambered all the way up it. But she made it to the top, and briefly scanned her surroundings. It was the deck, no doubt. Wide open with a large cabin to her left. There was probably a door to get inside somewhere, but she saw only broken windows.
She turned around and called down to Lucas. "Be careful, some of the rungs are slippery!"
"Yes, Mom!"
He began his ascent and she watched him come up. Her heart rate increased a little, knowing that she had already loosened the ladder and fearing that Lucas might accidentally break through it. Halfway up and she noticed one of the rusty bolts at the top had come loose.
"Might wanna hurry," she called, "looks like it don't wanna hold for much longer!"
"That would be just my luck!"
It must've been, as with every even-footed step, the bolt lifted more. Then the one beside it decided to join in on the fun. Almost at the top, and the bolts hung on by a thread. Her hands dripped with sweat—Lucas would survive that kind of fall, right? God forbid she had to find out.
The bolts pulled out of their confines and the ladder suddenly spun. Persephone grabbed onto his hands just as the metal on the remaining side shattered to pieces. The ladder toppled to the ground, leaving her as Lucas's only support. Her Eveline superstrength made it easy to pull him up.
Once he could reach, his feet scrambled over the side and onto the deck. They took a moment to catch their breaths.
"Goddamn," she panted, "shitty fuckin' ladder."
"Fer real. Thanks, Pers."
"Don't mention it."
Really. She shouldn't have given so much of a shit. The part of her that felt the sting of Lucas' betrayal wished she'd let him fall. Even if he survived, he would've been able to feel at least a fraction of the pain she'd felt every time he'd ignored her "no"s, whenever he'd delivered a ridiculously painful shock, each time he'd expected her to do his bidding without issue.
The idea to just push him while his guard was down crept into her mind, but she ignored the urge. She was still reeling from the shock at seeing him about to fall. The adrenaline that rushed through her when she feared he was about to get hurt seemed so inappropriate. She wanted to ask "who cares?", but…
Thankfully, Lucas didn't give her much time to keep thinking, as he gave her an exasperated, "C'mon, let's find th' damn thing," and headed toward the cabin. She followed, turning on her flashlight just as he did when they went in through one of the broken windows.
Eveline's mold covered the interior. Twisted metal and busted supplies were scattered around from the ship crashing into the bayou. Nature hadn't overtaken quite yet, leaving the horrific mold on display.
"Ever been on this ship?" she asked.
"Once after I got th' vaccine, but there was so much shit out a' sorts in here that I couldn' find th' damn D-series."
She shined her flashlight around the dingy ship, trying to steady herself despite the whole thing tilting at an awkward angle. The oppressive ambience dimmed the beams of light, and huge clumps of mold swallowed the rest whole. She probably would've felt more on edge if Lucas hadn't been with her, so she stuck close to him as they tried to find their way to the staircase.
"I think," he began, "Eveline's room was on one a' th' mid-decks, but I didn' see no D-series nothin' when I went in there last. Wouldn' hurt t' check again but I doubt it's there."
"I wonder if it would be on one of the lowest decks. Y'know, extra security and all."
"Maybe. I don' think it'd be with th' Captain's shit, 'cuz the Fuckin' Company told me th' crew had no idea what they were transportin'."
"See? You're not the only one they keep in the dark about important shit."
"Right? N' here I thought I was special. Bastards."
Persephone found the stairs when her foot suddenly dropped much lower than anticipated. Lucas' flashlight went toppling down the steps when snatched her under the arms before she could fall. He hauled her back to her feet.
"Christ, Pers. Ya all right?"
"Yeah," she said breathlessly. "I'm okay."
"Try not t' kill yerself on this shitty little tub."
"No promises."
They followed Lucas' fallen light to the landing, which curved around to the second set of steps leading to the mid-decks. It was much the same there: moldy and dark and dripping with water. The walls would creak threateningly and their feet slid on the coating of scum upon the floors. Lucas went ahead over a treacherous pile of old mold, then held out his hands for her to take.
She held her breath as she reached over, not wanting to get an even bigger whiff of the miasma that permeated the air. She grabbed hold of him and cautiously heaved herself over the slick, soppy pile. It stuck to her boots like wet gum, leaving a slapping sound with each step until she walked the mold off.
"Here it is," said Lucas, opening a door with a keycard. He stepped inside and held the door for her.
It didn't look particularly unique, just a room one might see on a low-tier cruise ship, with a twin bed in the corner and a small sofa just behind a rotting coffee table. A loveseat nestled into another corner, and a broken little television sat atop a vintage hutch. Lucas looked over the scattered, weather-worn papers of the coffee table, while Persephone pulled out every drawer in the hutch.
She moved aside shirts and pants and dresses and undergarments, only to find nothing but more clothes awaiting her. One drawer held a bunch of grooming crap—hair ties, a blow dryer, brushes—nothing special, basically.
Lucas searched through what was the most promising: a large trunk in the corner beside the hutch. But even that seemed to hold nothing. He pulled out a briefcase and, for a moment, she thought they were onto something, until she remembered Lucas had probably checked that before. And, of course, it was cleaned out when he opened it.
"Yep," he said, then clicked his tongue. "I got real excited about this last time, so don' feel bad."
Nothing on the bed, nothing in or on the desk, and nothing in the end table except a diary. It was clearly Eveline's. They read through it mostly for shits and giggles.
"Listen t' this," Lucas said, voice quavering laughter. He lowered his tone to something more akin to a total moron. "Vice Cap'n Paul is so nice t' me. He's so cute, I'm gonna marry him when I grow up." Then he cackled, voice back to normal. "My man dodged a bullet right there!"
Persephone rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh.
Ultimately, though, there was no useful information in her diary. All they found was a mention of Dahlia, and Eveline playing make believe with her. But Eveline didn't say where this took place.
"I'm guessin' Dahlia is th' D-series thing we're lookin' fer."
"Cool, it's somewhere on the ship. Good progress."
"Okay, Miss Pessimism, we don' need yer sass."
"Oh, yes we do," she said, giving him a sly smirk. "How would you ever get through life without it?"
He let out a sound between a murmur and a growl, before snatching her hand and trailing kisses up her wrist. He traveled along her arm, her neck, and ended with one in her hair. His tingling worship of her skin left her in a brief state of euphoria. That damned Eveline-crazy side of her brain couldn't help it, but she reeled it in.
"Is now really the time?" she asked.
"S'always th' time."
"Lucas," she scolded, "not in this gross ass ship."
"Hm, fair enough."
He released her, leaving her conflicted. Him obeying her wishes and respecting her boundaries felt undeniably freeing, as if all the pressure on her throat had faded with him letting her go. But then, she felt almost disappointed that he was no longer enveloping her in his warmth. She had missed that feeling so much over the past few years.
She tried to remember her pain. That was real. Everything else was in her head. The desperation to be near him, the apathy without him, feeling out of place and lost when he wasn't around was all in her mind. But the damage he'd done to her body was real. Faded marks were real.
And, unfortunately, the rotten smell of swamp and mold in the air was real. It kept her on track: get the fucking D-series and get the fuck out.
"Since I already looked through all this," said Lucas, "let's try yer idea n' get t' th' lower decks. Might find somethin' down there. The elevator wasn' workin' last time I was here so I couldn' make it. Maybe we'll find a way this time."
"Yeah, 'cuz I'm magic."
"Yer the morale, otherwise I woulda just left already."
She was surprised to see just how deep the boat went as they made their way down to the elevator. To their shock, the elevator had fallen at some point, leaving nothing but an empty shaft. They used the maintenance ladders to clamber down, then opened the emergency hatch on the fallen elevator.
Through the easily pushed open doors, a shallow layer of water pooled around the soles of their boots. It sloshed about as they searched. Down one of the rooms, layers of the tubes and lattices that all worked together to create a boat barely stayed standing. Persephone had not a single clue what all that entailed. What she did know was that half the bottom section of the boat was underwater. Though it seemed to lead further down, the stairs faded off into the murky depths, sending a rippling shudder down her spine.
"This end's a no-go," she said. "If the D-series is down there, we're fucked."
"Good, less work fer us."
Lucas swiped his keycard at the double doors in the middle of the hall. And again. And again a little more forcefully. He sighed, then attempted to shove the doors open anyway.
"Ya gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he spat, straining against the door.
"Fuck it, Lucas, let's just—"
Then it happened all at once. Lucas forced the door open. Its hinges snapped with a thundering crack of broken metal, and suddenly the only thing keeping the ship stable seemed to burst. The entire ship was thrown into disarray, tilting back with great force. Everything croaked like the whole thing was going to collapse.
Persephone's feet left the ground and she grabbed onto Lucas before she went flying. But he, too, was airborne as the ship threw them into the back wall. Lucas hit the wall first, cushioning her fall. She heard a crack from his body and he inhaled sharply through his gritted teeth. Water rushed unseen around them, and Persephone failed to hold back her terrified scream.
Then something landed on top of her. She opened her clamped eyes to see what the small, cold figure was. The dead face of a mummified little girl stared back, her black hair stuck to her head. She shrieked again and thrashed away from it, only for it to fall onto Lucas.
"Ew, what th' fuck!?" He threw it off himself, then winced and clutched his ribs.
"Lucas!" she called, helping to steady him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah… Yeah, I think so."
She saw the crumpled mess of the mummified girl just behind him, stuck in the corner. "I think we found Dahlia."
They tried to find a way out, but each side of them was blocked by dark, swampy water, and the doors Lucas opened led to a towering mess of twisted metal, where they presumed Dahlia and Eveline had "played" together, that seemed to go nowhere anyway, even if they could defy gravity. Sheets of metalworking confined them in, leaving them to face either claustrophobia or drowning. Lucas retrieved his phone and texted Lyle Reed instead.
"He seems t' like ya," said Lucas, "so let's hope he tries t' help ya."
"Yeah. He hates you."
Persephone huddled in on herself in the corner. The frigid metal seared her flesh, even through her clothes. She checked the time and it was fairly late, at about 6 pm. The family wouldn't be happy that they missed dinner. Lucas gathered their fallen flashlights and propped them up to give them enough light to see. He sat beside her and sighed.
"What a pain," he muttered.
After a few minutes of getting their senses back, they split off to search for an exit again. Their way back was flooded in, deeper into the bowels of the ship had been completely drowned in water. The only solace was the tiniest little crack in the hull of the ship, which they could glimpse at a very specific spot. But it was bittersweet. The outside was so close, just out of reach and taunting them with freedom. At least they wouldn't suffocate.
Persephone checked her phone again. It was midnight, and her phone battery warned her that it was on 2%.
"Fuckin' phone's about to die."
She parked herself in the spot that let her see the outside, and gazed at the sliver of moon she could see. It was nearly full and bright yellow. All that was left to do was watch the moon and pray that she and Lucas were enough of an asset to the Fuckin' Company that they would be rescued. Lucas had been hard at work, with his phone battery fuller, sending texts and emails and making calls to try and get through to someone for help. When he was finished, he came to rest beside her, then rubbed his face and temples.
"Please tell me I'm dreamin'," he said.
"Nope."
"I can' believe we actually got stuck in this damn ship, lookin' fer that." He sneered at Dahlia who watched them with her mummified, fleshy eye sockets.
"They'll come get us," Persephone said. "Eventually… won't they?"
"I hope yer right. Yer pretty well-respected so far."
"Ya chop up a few Molded, ya make a few breakthrough discoveries, and everyone wants you to sit on their face. It's simple science."
"Very scientific. But yer smart as hell, Pers, n' they like ya. They'll come fer you."
"Dunno, Lucas. They sent me on this dangerous mission, too. Can't like me that much if I was allowed to come here."
"Hm, maybe that's true…"
Their conversation ceased from there as Persephone wondered if she was sent on his mission because they trusted her, or because they didn't. She was close to Lucas, which was a death sentence in the eyes of the Fuckin' Company, and she'd already managed to isolate the mutamycete's healing properties. She wondered if they saw her as a threat because of that. Sure, they would come down to get Dahlia, but would they hurry to save her, or would they let her rot?
At some point during the night, perhaps due to the physical toll or the susurration of crickets, she had fallen asleep. Waking up to the sun streaming in through that crack in the ship burned her eyes. She moved to a different spot and checked the time. It was six in the morning now. Lucas' eyes were heavy and bagged.
"Didn't fall asleep?" she asked.
"No. Can'. Gotta be ready 'case I get a reply."
"Still nothin'?"
"One thing. From Reed. Says he'll call up a rescue squad. Didn' say when n' won' return my calls."
What she wouldn't give to dissect Reed one day.
She spent all day pacing. Her stomach was collapsing in on itself and she tried to hold back the urge to vomit. Her phone had died after she sent a message to the guy from management who had a crush on her. She didn't get the chance to see a reply. She occupied her time with doomsaying thoughts. They were going to die here. No one was coming to help them.
Her dry mouth filled with saliva as her urge to puke suddenly grew, but she swallowed the bile back down. Her empty stomach growled ferociously. A few growls came from Lucas's stomach, too. At one point during his pacing, his legs quivered and he braced himself against the wall. He lowered down onto his ass and leaned back. Sweat shimmered on his skin.
"You okay, Lucas?'
"Just dizzy as hell.'
"Yeah… Me, too.
Neither knew how long it had been since they were trapped here. Persephone's eyes hung heavy, her throat scratched together, and her stomach churned biliously. Their only flashlight left hardly illuminated the dark. The moon glowed bright and full through that damn crack. Another long night of being trapped.
"Lucas?"
He grunted.
"Are we gonna die here?"
"I dunno, Pers. Maybe."
She couldn't summon enough strength to do more than stare ahead. She didn't want to die, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it. The oppressive, dense darkness crept in closer.
"This sucks," she groaned.
"Yep. 'Least we found Dahlia."
"Uh-huh, 'cuz she's great company."
He chuckled weakly. "Sarcasm queen."
His chuckle was so genuine and nostalgic. She loved hearing him laugh. She loved so much about him that the pain he'd put her through tore her to pieces. Every time she looked at him now, she saw him cackling at her, saw him failing her, saw him entrapping and using her. She longed for the old days of looking at Lucas and seeing everything she ever wanted.
She turned her head to see him, and saw all of the horrible things he'd done. He stared ahead, eyes dark and baggy, mouth open in his exhaustion. She knew she must look the same: disheveled, worn down, clinging to life. She wasn't going to die here with so much left unsaid.
When she opened her mouth to speak, the sound of movement outside stopped her. The sloshing of water, the beats of helicopter blades against the silent night sky.
"Fuckin' finally," Lucas said with a sigh.
She stared at him a moment longer. Maybe some things were best left unsaid.