For Random Adventure

Black Sand & Ginkgo

Genre(s):
Science Fiction

Written for:
Lost World/Time Travel Challenge (Mar 9, 2017) of "Sci-Fi Competitions and Challenges" by ScienceFiction

Additional Guidelines:
2000 words or fewer; the cruise ship must end up floating off the coast of Pangaea with its engines dead; story must be in English

Due By:
March 31, 2017

Status:
Complete; Presently unjudged

Final Word Count:
1376 (header discluded)

- The Story Itself -

Gareth rolled his eyes at his wife's ridiculous insinuation. Yes, the bartender had been friendly, but that hardly meant he had slept with her.

"You both kept smiling like you had some secret," Rhiannon berated with her fist wrapped around another $200 bottle of red. "I won't stand for it."

"This is really starting to get old," Gareth groaned, massaging his temples in annoyance. "If I'd slept with even half of the women you say I have, I wouldn't have time enough left to work for the money you spend."

Rhi's eyes grew, and that ugly scowl found its way back to its home on her face. "Unless you charge for it!"

A frustrated scream pushed its way through a growl in the CEO's throat, and his fist connected with the wall of the cruise ship as he stomped through the door of their room.

"Why did you even bring me?" his wife's whining voice followed through the hall. "You had to know you wouldn't be able to keep it in your--"

The drunk's nasal screeches halted as the cruise ship jolted, throwing them both first into the wall and then the floor. Amongst the ship's groaning and scraping, an impossible tree limb shot through the wall just inches behind Gareth's head, and it snapped as the ship began to roll.

Rhiannon wailed in terror while she grappled for her husband through the waxy leaves. The heavy-set man managed a firm grasp around the terrified woman's arm, and he pulled her under the branch into his arms.

The floor gradually became a wall, but Gareth kept his wife shielded tightly to his chest, even as his dress shoes slid from one surface to the next, leaving thick black trails on the waxed surfaces.

When the ship finally stopped, only the tinkle of Rhiannon's still-rolling bottle of wine could be heard over her gasps.

Gareth released his death-grip on the woman's shoulders and searched his jacket for her inhaler, which he promptly shoved into her grasping hands. He brushed the tears from her aging cheeks as she fought to hold the chemicals in her lungs.

Somewhere above them, something heavy scraped over the metal, sending vibrations and high-pitched echoes through the hall.

"We can't get out!" a flame-haired woman cried from a crack in the doorway next to Gareth and Rhiannon. Her young son clung tightly to her arm as she struggled to pull something heavy from where it rested on the door. "Help us!"

Rhiannon stared in shock at the panicked woman as her husband began pushing on the door with all the leverage he could get. "You're going to be fine," the towhead man calmed.

"The ship just capsized!" the redhead recapped, her voice breaking from the force behind it. "We're going to drown!" Her boy sobbed with his own panic, but Gareth stopped dead.

There was no water.

The ship wasn't tossing like it should, and though he could still smell the salt of the ocean, he couldn't hear it crashing against the hull.