Cryptophobia - Hell & High Water

HAPTER 22 - EDWARD & RACHEL: 4:21pm

9 hours, 34 minutes since outbreak in London. 

3 hours, 11 minutes since outbreak aboard MS HotS.

Rachel and the other survivors had been held up by this group of escapees for a while now. There were only five of them, but they were all relatively well equipped. A security officer with a pistol, two staff members holding flare guns capable of lighting up the deck if fired and two doctors. There was more than enough space for all of them on that single lifeboat and quite possibly more, but capacity wasn't the issue here, trust was. It had only taken a few hours for attitudes to degenerate into a fierce game of self preservation. What did arguing here achieve but to slow things down, yet here they were making petty threats at each other when a mere few minutes ago a man was brutally murdered and his corpse left horrifically sprawled out on the floor. Rachel and Lori knew nothing about that man, whether or not he had a family, a wife, children, parents, absolutely nothing. They didn't even get to find out his name and yet, so simply his life was snatched away from him and brushed under the carpet as an accident, the first person either of the girls had ever seen being killed and lying dead before them. Traumatised though the two girls were, others were behaving as though it never happened, and the one woman who seemed bothered by it at all even joked about it. What the fuck was this shit? Is this what people had become? Self serving pricks with no regard for human life?

The other group agreed to lower their weapons and allow this group onto the lifeboat under the condition that they gave up their weapons, a condition Adam may have been more than happy to oblige, but that didn't mean others were, so the situation only escalated before it got better, resorting to Adam having to appeal to individuals' better natures.

Rachel kept glancing back looking out for danger, knowing that while the longer they spent arguing here may make it easier for her parents and grandmother to get here, coupled with the increasing volume of their voices, they were also more likely to have crazies pounce on their asses. Just thirteen more minutes.

4:23pm - 3 hours, 13 minutes since outbreak aboard MS HotS.

Edward, Christine and Martha rounded another corridor corner, picking up the pace, but in doing so, increasing the chances of getting caught. Martha was struggling to keep up and if it meant they had to run, there was no chance in hell she would be able to do so.

"Slow down", she insisted.

"We can't, please Martha, we don't have much further to go. Stick with me, I'll get you back to land and eventually home, I promise".

She nodded and complained no more, probably for the first time witnessing a sense of conviction in him that overwhelmed her. Christine too nodded, having utmost faith in him.

Their newfound team confidence would be tested however when they came across a bar, not far away from them several twitchers and the ground covered in shattered glass.

Getting across this without making a noise must have seemed an impossible feat, but they attempted it anyway without even a murmur of complaint, and maybe if they had only done so and found an alternative route, the following events could have been avoided. The events that would lead to the worst fifteen minutes of their lives.

It all began with the split second decision to cross the glass covered floor, the shortest means to get to the starboard side of the ship, but also the most risky. They were exposed, hidden only by a mere waist high counter and metres away from twitchers feasting on a corpse. A hair strand away from peril, this was the worst thing they could possibly attempt to do. There were gaps to step, but they were spread out and random, requiring some degree of flexibility. Christine might be able to get by, even with only her spa gown and slippers, Martha on the other hand would find this challenging.