After the End of the World

"Hey," Ty says, tweaking his captive's arm a little, "is this so?"

Miguel grunts, but then admits that it is.

"I've got some other questions as well," I say to him, "since you've decided to be so cooperative. You know all about what the captain does with women, right?"

"Yes," he says sullenly.

"Why did he pick me?"

"Because you are most beautiful, but also because of your children. He always picks women with children because this gives him more leverage."

"How many women?"

"You are the seventh."

"But this is only the third voyage."

"They don't always last for long."

"Why not?"

"If they agree to marry him, they are disposed of before we reach our home port of Ushuaia.

"In what way?" Ty increases the pressure on the crewman's arm to encourage honesty.

"I throw them overboard." Damn, he's blunt enough.

"And their children?"

"If they are weaned, they stay aboard until we get home and they can be given away. Otherwise, the same as their mothers."

"Oh, Jesus Christ almighty," Haley murmurs, sounding like she's about to throw up. I'm with her there.

"Why would he 'dispose' of them?" I ask. "He told me he wanted to start another family."

Miguel actually laughs. "Because the captain already has a wife and children."

"That son of a bitch," I mutter. I was a fool, believing him. "But that's only two of the women at most."

"Three. I disposed of the captain's most recent fiancée this morning." The sick son-of-a-bitch actually sounds proud of himself.

"And her children?"

He shrugs. "Her baby will be adopted if it doesn't starve before we make port. We have no infant formula."

Any of the women in our stateroom would have been willing to nurse another child, but I'm sure that would have raised questions. Bastards.

"What happened to the other three women?"

"One, the captain tired of, and the other two asked to get off at other ports."

Like I'd been told I could. "And what happened to them and their children?"

"The same as the others."

"Well, I think I've heard enough," I say, disgusted.

"Me too," Ty says, reaching up and brutally slamming Miguel's head against the wall of the elevator, one, two, three times. The impacts leave a deep dent in the stainless-steel panel and Miguel crumples to the floor. Ty shakes his head sadly. "Before this fucking war, I would never have done something like that."

Haley rubs his shoulder reassuringly, but none of us check to see if the crewman is dead or alive. I'm pleased to see that he looks pretty dead. This war has changed us all.

"So you've obviously got some sort of plan going, right?" Haley asks hopefully. In the last few minutes, she's found that she's got less than a day until she loses her husband, child, freedom and virtue forever.

I tell them what I'm trying to do. "You guys want in on it?"

Haley slaps the Stop button back in and we continue downwards. Question answered.

"How exactly did you guys happen to be in the right place at the right time?" I ask. "I was on the way to get you."

"We waited by the elevator the whole time," Haley says. "We knew it was something bad, so we wanted to be there when you eventually came back."

Wow, I've been blessed with some really good friends.

We're facing a blank wall when the elevator opens. My highly detailed strategy for this part of the plan is to, well, wing it. I stick my head around the corner and look down the hall. I find myself looking a crewman right in the eye. He's sitting on a chair up against the wall, maybe twenty feet down the passageway. Right next to him is a door with a small window in it.

Well, it appears I've found the brig, but I've also been seen. It's now or never.

I surreptitiously wave the other two back and walk right out into the passageway, heading for the brig like I own the place. "Fernando said I could come and pick up my children," I say, weaving slightly. Then I wink at the guy. "He was quite satisfied." If Miguel knew about the captain's previous mistresses, then this guy probably knows the score as well.

He rises to his feet as I approach. "Please stop there," he says. "The captain left orders that I was not to open this door without his direct orders." Damn, a stickler. At least he doesn't look as if he's about to throw me against the wall for the crime of leaving the captain's suite.

"Look, I'm not asking you to release my husband. I just need my kids." Yeah, pretty lame.

"I'm sorry, Señora. I can't do that."

Behind me, I hear the elevator close, then begin to rise. I think I know what they're up to, but for it to work, I have some things I'm going to have to do first.

I stumble a little, bracing my hand against the wall. "Wow," I mumble, mostly under my breath. "I shouldn't have drunk so much champagne." Then I look at the crewman defiantly. "But it was good."

"I'm sure it was," he says, nodding. It looks like this guy will be content to let me do or say whatever I want, as long as I don't get too close.

"The captain's not a bad lay," I say conspiratorially, "but he's shit for dancing." I look the crewman up and down. "What's your name?"

"I am Corporal Second Class Hernandez."

I stare uncomprehendingly at him for a moment. "No, I mean like a first name."

"Ramón," he says uncomfortably.

"See, I knew you had a name," I say with a grin, swaying some more. "I'll bet you're a good dancer, Ramón, aren't you?"

"Uh, yes Señora. I think so."

"Good. Then come dance with me." I close my eyes and hold my arms out like I've got them wrapped around him, then sway back and forth, letting my body relax almost to the point of falling down. I hope it looks like I'm drunk.

After a bit I open my eyes and see that he hasn't moved. "Oh, come on, Ramón, don't be a party pooper. Come dance with me."

"I'm sorry, but I must remain at my post."

"Man, you got a suck ass job," I commiserate. "Let me entertain you a little to make up for it." With that I untie the front of my robe. I figure if I'm willing to deepthroat the captain to help free my family, showing Corporal Second Class Ramón Hernandez a little skin is a no-brainer.

I gyrate a lot more frenetically now. Unlike Ramón, I don't consider myself a good dancer, so mostly I'm just sticking it out there for him. At least my moves (or more likely my bare tits and pussy) are holding his attention.

He's still ogling me when I see Ty coming around the corner from behind him. I go for broke now, absently shrugging out of my robe entirely and gyrating in the nude. It feels like I've been doing way too much of that tonight. The corporal's flat out loving it, though, his eyes glued to my body. I make sure to keep my eyes on his and not look over his shoulder.

Ty has a short length of thin copper pipe in his hand. Surely he's not going to attempt to use something that small as a club? Indeed, that's not what he does. Instead, he pokes Hernandez in the back with it. "Hands up," Ty says. Hernandez starts to turn. "Nope, don't even think about it."

The corporal puts his hands in the air as requested. Ty transfers his "gun" to his other hand, then unclips Hernandez's keys from his belt and tosses them to me.

"Okay friend," Ty says in a low and menacing voice that scares me, "I've killed enough of your crewmates tonight, so I'd just as soon not kill you too. I need you to back up slowly." His captive does, visibly on the verge of peeing his pants. They move about fifteen feet down the hall, both still facing me.

I look through the window and see Caiden sitting on a padded chair in a padded cell. With the tips of his shoes, he's rocking Gregory and Amelia's carriers, but he's also holding a third infant to his shoulder, rocking back and forth. I can see just enough of the child's head to note blazing red hair. Could this be little Andrew, the boy with the different colored eyes? Well, Andrew's mother was a beauty, and it occurs to me that I never saw her again after we came aboard the ship. If they had spent the voyage in the Captain's suite, that would explain why.

I give the door a quick knock to alert Caiden to our presence, then start trying keys. It's the fourth one that does the trick, and I open the door. He's already got the little carrot top strapped into a third carrier. I'm impressed.

I race in to grab Andrew (one glance proves it is indeed him) while Caiden carries our kids and we clear out. Then Ty forces the corporal into the cell at "gunpoint," tossing the little piece of copper in after him as he closes and locks the door. The sly grin on his face is priceless. I'm glad we didn't have to hurt the corporal. Unlike Miguel, Ramón seemed like a decent guy.

The elevator door opens and Haley sticks her head out. "Come on you guys," she urges.

We all pile in, careful not to step on Miguel, and I hit the button for the top level. Then I turn. Ty's holding my robe. "Lose this?" he asks.

I couldn't care less what I'm wearing or not wearing. I throw myself into Caiden's arms and kiss him hard. "Oh God," I sob, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"They told me you'd agreed to be Ramirez' mistress," he says, squeezing me to him. "I knew that would never happen."

"Guys," Haley says gently, "we're almost there and there's a lot of caper left to pull off."

Caiden gives me one last kiss, then releases me. "Okay, so what's the plan?" he asks as I slip back into my robe.

"The freefall lifeboat is mounted right behind the captain's suite," I say as the doors open. "There's a door leading from there, right to it. You know how to launch it, right? This whole escape kinda hinges on that."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, from doing maintenance on the lifeboats."

"Good, because we need to launch right away. I can't believe no one's sounded the alarm yet."

Haley hands me the captain's set of keys and I hand her a baby carrier. "This is Andrew," I say. "He was orphaned this morning when this piece of shit (I nod down at Miguel's lifeless body) murdered his mother. You're his mother now."

Ty and Haley's eyes get big, but they look at each other and nod. The adoption process is complete.

The elevator opens and I lead the way to the captain's suite. I find the right key on the second try and slip in quietly, checking to make sure he's still out. He's not fully unconscious anymore, but he doesn't appear to be lucid either. More importantly, he's still hog tied. I resist the urge to kick him in the teeth, but that may be mostly because I'm barefoot.

The door to the deck right behind the suite has a large window in it. We've known from the rocking of the ship that there's a storm, but actually seeing it brings it home. Sheets of rain are seemingly falling sideways across the deck. And this far south, not far from the Antarctic Circle and approaching its winter season, it's got to be cold out there. Yet we're going out in this.

"Stay here until I motion for you," Caiden says. Then he hits the locking bar and goes out on deck. Just the quick blast coming in the door is bracing.

I watch as Caiden grabs some kind of hook on the center of a cable that runs across the rear of the lifeboat. The ends part and jerk out of his hands. Then he moves to the port side of the stern and pulls a pin out of a big metal arm. He moves back to the lifeboat's hatch and turns two handles, swinging it open. He turns and waves for us to come out.

I turn back from the window. Ty and Haley have been busy. They've somehow found kitchen trash bags and have put the carriers in them, tying off the bag's handles at the top. Not exactly Good Housekeeping approved, but it will help ward off the weather from our precious offspring.

Ty grabs a carrier, gripping the handle through the bag. Haley grabs two more and I take the last one. I have no idea which baby I have, but I suppose it doesn't matter.

Ty leads the way, holding the door open for us. There's a little shelter in its lee, but as Haley trots out into the open, the wind blasts her and she trips, falling heavily. One of her carriers flies from her hand, tumbling across the deck, the trash bag making an unfortunately effective sail.

According to the ship's deck plans, posted to the wall just outside the dining room, this area was intended for storage of its signature Zodiac rafts. It doesn't have the usual sturdy and closely-spaced rails. Instead, there's a single removeable cable strung across the edge, attached to a few equally removeable stanchions. There's little chance that any of that will stop a child carrier from being blown off the deck and into the dark, raging sea.

There's no time for horror, though. Ty and I work together like a well-oiled machine. He's leaping forward even as his wife falls, and my spare hand is firmly on the handle of his carrier, letting him know, without his even looking, that it's safe to let go of it. Haley is struggling to get up, screaming as she watches the carrier sail away, but she's not being blown anywhere herself and she's clutching tightly to her other carrier. Ty races right by her, then leaps headfirst, arm reaching for the carrier as it nears the edge.

Ty's hand grips the flapping plastic of the bag as it goes over the side. He's had to sprint so hard to catch up that it looks like there's no way he can avoid going over himself, but then his head and shoulder slam into one of the stanchions, bringing him to a quick and brutal stop. He goes limp, partially hanging over the side of the ship.

I drop the other two bundles inside the door of the stateroom, along with Haley's as she hands it to me, then race for the rail myself. Haley and I are neck and neck, but Caiden gets there first, diving onto his stomach, grabbing the cable, and leaning way out over the edge. "I can't reach," he yells. "Pull him up."

For one brief moment, I see what we are dealing with. Ty is apparently unconscious, but in his desperate grab for the carrier, his hand punctured the trash bag on the way in, and on the way back out. Now the bag is tangled around his limp hand, just outside of Caiden's reach. Below us, the roiling sea heaves up and down.

Haley grabs a leg, but I want more leverage. I drop to my butt and brace my foot against the stanchion. Grabbing Ty's tooled Western belt in both hands, I heave for all I'm worth. He doesn't move at first, but then Haley drops to her knees right at the edge of the deck and grabs the cable. Then she too leans way over and grabs the collar of her husband's T-shirt, lifting his upper body. Her help is just enough, and I slide Ty's chest back up onto the deck.

Caiden shimmies back from the edge as well, the carrier's handle firmly in his grip. He hands it to Haley. "Get this to the lifeboat, but be careful." She nods, earnest, scared and chagrinned. He looks at me. "Help me get him aboard."

I'm bigger and stronger than Haley, but it's still Caiden who does most of the heavy lifting as we get Ty's limp body through the lifeboat's hatch. By the dim light of two small fixtures in the ceiling, I can see that there are steps going down the main aisle, which makes sense since the lifeboat is pitched forward on its rails at a steep angle. Each of the seven rows has four rearward facing seats with very tall backs, two on each side of the aisle. Above the seats is a cockpit with controls, a wheel, and a forward-facing seat.

Twenty-eight, plus one operator. Just like the number of crew, plus the captain. Coincidence? I think not. I think the real reasons for the top-deck bunking of the crew and this unusual lifeboat are so that if the passengers find out their fate before the ship docks, the crew can escape their wrath at a moment's notice.

We strap Ty into the nearest seat. He moans. At least he's still alive after his heroic feat. By now Haley has finished strapping her carrier into one of the seats closer to the middle and gone back for another child. With the bag now pulled away, I can see that it's Gregory's life we all just saved. I shiver deeply.

Caiden turns to me. "Go get the kids. I need to do a couple more things at the stern before we can launch."

The last two carriers are still where I left them, but Ramirez is not. I feel a surge of fear (something I've felt a lot of tonight) but there's nothing I can do about it now. There is one thing I can do, though, and it might help almost nineteen hundred people.

I pull the microphone out of its holder and slide the little switch to the on position. I don't know if it's live, but I don't have time to check. I speak quickly but clearly.

Hi everyone. This is Lana Michaels, the woman who always has those twins strapped to her chest. The captain tried to rape me tonight, but before that he told me the ship is actually headed to a new dictatorship, that every man on this ship is going to a concentration camp, every woman is to be pimped out to the locals, and every child will be given away to new parents. If you don't like that, I suggest you all DO something about it!

I drop the mic, then quickly, but carefully, carry two plastic-clad bundles back to the lifeboat. Like the other adults in this insane escape attempt, I'm soaked to the skin with icy water, but I'm running on adrenaline and not feeling it just yet.

My robe must have become untied at some point because now, as I face into the gale, it billows behind me and I'm nearly wrenched off my feet. Images of what had nearly happened a minute ago flash through my mind, but I'm ready for it and I'm not going to let that happen on my watch. I shrug, and the robe blows off of my shoulders, now flapping behind me by my wrists.

Caiden sees me approach and reaches for a carrier. "Ramirez is missing!" I yell over the gale as I hand it to him. He nods. My robe is now just streaming from my other wrist. I transfer the carrier to my other hand so I can grip the edge of the hatch opening. My only piece of clothing is gone for good. He holds the door for me as I climb inside.

"Get the kids strapped down first, then yourselves," Caiden says. "I'm going to start the engine and drop us."

Haley takes James and Andrew's carriers and sets them into seats across the aisle. I take my daughter down a couple of rows and set her carrier down in what would be the window seat, if this boat had windows along the sides. We're just across the aisle from Gregory. The seatbelts aren't designed for child carriers, but I find a way to cinch the belt down over it well enough. I check my son's belt, then drop into the seat between them and fasten in.

I hear the low rumble of a diesel engine starting up. "Hang on folks," Caiden says. "This is gonna be one hell of a ride." He pulls the safety pin of a long metal handle next to his seat, turns a little knob, then begins to pump the long handle up and down. After five or six pumps, he frowns.

"Something's wrong," he says, jumping down from the cockpit and heading for the stern. I unbuckle and follow him. He looks out the window in the hatch. "Dammit, it's the captain." He looks back at me. "Strap yourself tight into the operator's chair," he says, motioning up at the cockpit. "Do not get out of this seat for any reason. We'll need to launch just as soon as I'm back aboard."

I don't know exactly what the plan is, but I climb up as he unlatches the hatch. Then the wind is howling again as he goes outside. I turn and look. The window in the hatch lines up with the cockpit so I can see what's going on out there.

The captain is wrestling with something that's out of my sight, down near where Caiden had been doing stuff to prep the boat for launch. As Caiden goes out the hatch, the captain straightens and I see that he's got a knife in his hand. It looks like one of the steak knives from our fancy dinner.