#panevent 01

Screams. Shrill yowls, sad sobs, long wails. The cries in the dark stuck to him, sticky as the saltwater. The worst nightmare Tej had in awhile. Another deep whine came from the... ship? Angled into deep water, the boat rolled slightly. Not on the waves, but as if to turn over in its sleep.

Tej slung his backpack over a shoulder, the one he'd clutched before opening his front door. But how the hell did he end up here? (It couldn't be real, none of it.) The urge to escape a sinking ship spurred him on (when the fuck would he wake up?? what the fuck was on his wrist?). Tej clawed and crawled his way over an incline with waterlogged hands slipping along the floor that had become a wall. Voices shouted from around the corner. The partially capsized boat tilted the galley on its side. Tej knelt down to look through the door at the people below. They bobbed and treaded water to stay afloat in the middle of a rush of rising ocean water and various kitchen items, like pans and pots, splatters of buoyant colorful vegetables.

'Here!' A woman yelled frantic to see Tej, with her hand jutted upwards. 'Help us, please!'

A fever swept through him, one that eradicated old feelings and infected Tej with a new anger that ached terribly. Yet he could not resist to twist directly into those chills of dull pain. "Zaid!" A bark of an unpleasant surprise and bitterness. It had been months since they'd seen each other.

A shock of ice water ran through his chest. Zaid could drown. (Zaid could drown!) A tendon jumped and tensed at the hinge of his jaw. Tej wanted to watch Zaid gasp and sputter. Look on as those large brown eyes filled with terror, and with the memory of someone else who didn't stand a fighting chance in the ocean. Then fall lifeless as an anvil to the bottom of this watery little kitchen-coffin. The woman splashed closer and matched Tej's deeply furrowed brow. 'Hey! Don't just stand there, help us out of here! Give me your hand!'

"I'll help you." Deliberate words, a line drawn. He'd help her, but Zaid was on his own. "There's shelving there," he pointed out, located underwater and against the wall. "Swim to it. You can climb up and reach my hand, I'll pull you up." He held a small handle near the frame of the door to anchor himself first, then leaned over to try and grasp the woman's arm above the wrist.

(Now the racing of his heart, the pounding in his head that this was real. Still a nightmare, but fucking hell, this was real.)

To think he used to pride himself on his sense of direction. It wasn't a the simple orientation needed after stepping out of a tube station in London. He hadn't gotten turned around in Central Park. Tej arrived at that damned rope bridge he'd already passed by once.

Every path looked like the last and all the trees appeared cut from one pattern. Time to admit he was a bit fucked. Lost. Unsure where to go.

Except the bridge, but it looked as if it hung on by a hair.

Then a recognizable figure. One Tej used to watch as he recovered on the couch from nasty Sunday hangovers. He'd overheard a rumour they were on the island. Lo and behold. "You're that. You had that show." Had, have, huh. A loud snap of the fingers. "We the Survivors, yeah." A beat. "Wait, is this the show?" Tej pointed to the ground, and then over to one of the ever present cameras, the one which could provide a compelling view of anyone who dared to cross the bridge.

Was anyone even on the cruise ship? 

A thought that kept crawling back. From the direct conversations and the bits and pieces overheard, the chat around a ‘feast’ he’d rather not try– so far no one said they were actually on the ship before it wrecked. Like Tej, they were plucked out of the routine of their day or evening, without warning. Left with a gap between a final mundane memory, in some other part of the world (which begged another question) and waking up on a ship they never planned to be on in the first place.

Trudging away from the feast probably wasn’t the brightest idea. But higher ground might offer some answers, more possibilities. 

Or, the chance to confront whoever was responsible for the inconvenience. DO NOT BE AFRAID, those damned speakers blasted. A command in a situation where it seemed there was plenty to fear. 

A tower loomed and Tej was getting closer. Yet he felt eyes on him. Thought he heard footsteps. Tej was a city boy but stumbled his way home completely shitfaced more times than he could count. Still alive, somehow.

He came to a stop and saw at a camera aimed down at him. Tej grumbled before shooting the middle finger, and hoped his irritation was captured in 4K.

But he swore he heard something... Tej glanced around. “Anyone there?”

From the vantage point of the upper deck, the ship looked like the skeletal remains of a felled beast in a shallow watering hole. The ribcage now open, exposed. People ran around at the far ends like ants suddenly disturbed and lost from their leader.

What happened? 

Tej navigated what a jogging path around the outer edge of the cruise ship. Huge piles of deck chairs and sun loungers blocked the way in chaotic, tangled piles from the angle the ship had been tossed into, pressed against what was the inner wall. While the outside railing that once prevented fatal tumbles into the sea crescented over his head in the most disorienting way. 

At the far end he could see a serpentine twist of bright orange and sky blue tubes. Large tubes, pieces and parts of the waterslides on deck. Tej heard a chatter at that end, and occasional coupled timed splashes into the ocean. 

“Do you know what’s going on?” She appeared beside him. Maybe crawled out from under one of those stacks of chairs. Maybe she’d even been in one of those before… before what? 

“From what I can tell, people found a way off this fucking–” Ship. The notion this was merely a hungover dream/nightmare had begun to fade. What the fuck was he doing on a cruise ship, why was it here. Confusion still rattled through him. Tej tried to focus less on a boat and more on getting the hell out of there, for now.

Where even was here? He turned to study the stranger next to him. “I couldn’t find a way out down below, so. This might be the best option.” Or only option.