Scorched Shores

Syncing Ship

The familiar scream of electric guitar filled the room. Her fingers blurred across the fretboard of her neon green guitar. She'd gotten several complaints for playing too loudly, but she couldn't care less. Guitar was her passion and the majority of the cruise, she spent practicing.

Her hair was wild: thick, dark black hair, tied back in a messy ponytail. She whipped her hair around as she jammed, giving it the nice punk rock look that she liked. Her small fangs hung out of her mouth and pressed against her bottom lip.

She flicked her hair out of her eyes and tossed her guitar onto her king-sized bed that she'd made sure to include in her purchase. This truly was her dream vacation. She threw herself onto the bed. She landed with a flop, and the memory foam mattress cradled her body in itself. She let out a relaxed sigh and folded her arms behind her head.

She opened the window and greeted the bright midmorning sun with a grin. She moved her guitar aside, setting it on its stand beside her amp and leapt onto the bed once more. The bright sunshine poured through the windows and casted itself onto her, warming her dark coat of fur.

"Maybe a little nap wouldn't hurt," she stated. With that, she reached to her handcrafted, almond-colored nightstand for her pair of headphones, which she slipped on over her ears and turned on her music. Her favorite playlist consisted of just about everything in the metal genre, from Five Finger Death Punch to Avenged Sevenfold.

She was an odd creature to be relaxing to heavy metal, but that's how she went about it anyway. Society couldn't tell her how to live her life if it tried. She'd always be the outlier—and she loved it.

She found herself drifting into a light sleep in no time.

Her playlist had played through all of its contents and had ceased to play, but she continued to sleep without interruption for another hour. The small chatter and the clinking of margarita glasses in the lobby outside her room filled her ears. Her ears twitched occasionally, picking up every little sound around her. This caused her headphones to fall onto the floor, taking her phone with them.

She dreamt pleasant dreams. Dreams of home. Of her and her girlfriend together on the couch, snuggling under a comfy blanket, enjoying each other's warmth, and watching action movies. This was their Friday evenings, and she enjoyed every bit of it.

She was quickly pulled out of her pleasant dreams by a rumble that shook the whole ship. The TV remote that she'd placed on the headboard of her bed fell into her lap. She placed it on the bed beside her. She debated whether to check out the source of the disturbance or not. A wave a curiosity compelled her to get up and check it out. She got up quickly and grabbed her room key on her way out of the door. The small chatter in the lobby had gained some volume and raised to a quiet roar. She couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Tension filled the air, yet not a word was said for her to feel that way. She picked up a few words here and there.

"Explosion."

"Engine room."

"Does this ship have any life boats?" A woman questioned as she fed her child a strawberry.

That was enough for Sync to put together a story that there had been some occurrence with the one of the ship's engines and caused it to explode. That would explain the rumbling from earlier. Though she hadn't eaten all day, it certainly wasn't her stomach. She wasn't the only one to notice.

She took a seat at a small round table. It had two chairs, but only one would be dining today. Her girlfriend was stuck back in California making up college finals. A single tear rolled down her left cheek, but she quickly wiped it away before the staff came.

"What can I get for you today, ma'am?" Asked a tall, white wolf with slender features and an overly cheery tone.

"A beverage. Something hard. What d'ya have?" Sync asked without glancing up at her.

"Well, today's special is a triple berry margarita! Would you like one of those?" The staff's cheeriness was beginning to wear on her.

"Yes. Please," she dismissed.

"I apologize, but this drink happens to contain alcohol, and I must abide by policy and ask for some form of identification that proves you are of age to consume," she indicated.

Sync pulled her wallet out of the back pocket of her ripped, grey jeans and retrieved her driver's license. She promptly turned the card to show the wolf and then returned her wallet to her pocket.

"Thank you! I'll be right out with your order!" She cheered.

•••

Sync waited for roughly ten minutes after the wolf had left. They must be pretty damn busy. She thought.

The lobby was packed full of people. Sync impatiently tugged at the shoulder of her shirt. It was beginning to get uncomfortably hot in the lobby between the mass of bodies and the Caribbean midmorning sun beating down on her back through the skylights.

About ten more minutes had elapsed when Sync decided she needed some fresh air to calm her nerves. The tension in the lobby was too much for her to bear on top of the fact that her girlfriend wasn't there to comfort her. She opted to abandon the alcohol and spare herself the trouble.

Making her way to the stern of the ship, people seemed to get louder and louder. Pressure built inside her chest and longed to be released. The anxiety was too much for her. She reached the far back of the boat and laid in a sun chair, her back to the sky. She released a long, shaky breath. The chatter of nervous voices continued to grow. Anxiety welled up inside of her.

The ship rumbled again. This time, the duration was much longer than the time previous. The power of it threw Sync out of the chair. The chair flipped over and Sync landed with a thud onto her back. She continued to take deep breaths. Each were unsteady and shaky.

The rumbling ceased. The boat was still. Only the occasional whisper or a distant voice could be heard. The silence killed.

Suddenly, a loud cracking sound rang in the passengers' ears and shrieks erupted from the crowds. The boat's second engine had blown and sent a crack up the side of the boat. The crack ate at the hull and began to split the boat in two. People ran everywhere, scrambling for the lifeboats toward the back. Sync tried to swim upstream and go against the flood of panicked passengers, but she got nowhere quickly. She needed her stuff. Her phone. Her only contact with Jade. 

The anxiety inside her quickly turned. She was filled with complete pandemonium. She didn't know what to do. Her legs felt weak and her breathing was not sufficient. Her head spun and the screams became distorted. She turned her head to the side as someone shouted something at her that she was unable to decipher. An elbow came straight at the side of her head, hitting her in the temple, square-on. Lights out. Her head whipped back, and she went completely limp. She fell to her knees, and the rest of her followed. Her chin collided with the ground in a loud crack. The passengers continued to flood the lifeboats, kicking and trampling over her on their way. Her body was thrown around under the feet of hundreds of chaos-stricken citizens.