140 NM South of Sydney
08:50
Alex slammed open the port to the bridge. Just what the hell was Martin thinking? He climbed the ladder and poked his head through the hole. The seat was empty. Then where did he go?
“Andrew, he isn’t here,” Alex called down. Andrew stood at the base of the ladder right beneath him. He was looking up. After all, the ladder had only room for one person.
“Then where did he go?”
Alex turned his attention the large floating city to the right side of the bridge.
“Oh my god. Damnit, Martin sailed us up to the bloody cruise ship!”
Andrew couldn’t quite understand what he was talking about.
“I know we’re on the ship, where did you say he brought us?”
Alex was still staring at the massive liner only about 300 feet away. But where did Martin go? Then it hit him. He was going to get the helicopter to work. And would probably attempt to fly it over to the cruise ship.
“Ah, damnit. Martin’s going for the chopper! Let’s try to meet him there.” Alex practically jumped down the ladder, onto the floor, narrowly missing Andrew who was waiting below.
“Watch where you fall,” he chuckled. Alex turned around, and ran towards the stairs. Andrew followed. He had to make sure Martin knew what he was doing. He had never flown a helicopter before, and planned on doing a rescue mission for his first flight, which was beyond crazy. It was just plain stupid.
Andrew ran up the stairs and shoved the hatch open. The door swung open vertically and crashed down due to the gravity. Andrew scrambled up, followed closely by Alex. The effects of the wind were obviously apparent. Alex grabbed onto a railing to avoid falling backwards.
Sure enough, Martin was next to the helicopter, pulling the straps off the rotors. They held the blades in place, so that they wouldn’t spin around in the wind. Surprisingly, Sami stood next to him, quietly observing.
“Martin, what the hell are you doing?” Andrew hollered. He marched towards the two. Martin looked up from his work.
“I figure that the odds of survivors being on that ship are awfully high. Noting that the ship had room for about 3,000 people.”
“So you plan on flying there!?” Alex exclaimed. He knew someone would get hurt. He just didn’t want it to be his mutual friend Martin. Especially as he was the only one that could sail the boat.
“Yes I do. Why, do you want to come with? The chopper has room for two pilots and two passengers.” He pointed to the bird, which sat on the ground silently, as if it was the kid who just got caught in the cookie jar.
“Listen Martin. This is serious business. You could die. Or even worse, you could crash into us, and sink the bloody ship!” Alex yelled. He was angry and scared, the emotions didn’t work well when brewed together. But he knew that arguing with someone of such leadership was beyond pointless. Martin was dedicated in saving lives. He had blown the foghorn to get anyone on the ship’s attention. The yacht had no lifeboats. They couldn’t just sail up to the thing. The ship was moving. Alex knew that Martin had to do it, and was willing to risk his own life in the preservation of others.
“You know he has to do it.” Sami spoke up. She crossed her arms, and looked at Alex. “As much as I hate to admit it… we need help. And you know it’s serious when I ask for it. There are people there, and Martin needs to go get them. Since you two are worried so much, why don’t you stay here? I trust him for one. And putting trust in someone is something I usually don’t do either. So in these circumstances, it is time for something different.”
Speechless, Alex and Andrew just watched as Martin pulled the door open, and climbed into the pilot’s seat. Before closing the door, he turned to the duo.
“Times have changed mate. Things that seemed so dangerous before, don’t seem so bad, now that the world has ended.” With that, he slammed the door shut. Sami got in the copilot's side.
“Get food and water ready, incase they haven’t eaten, or need first-aid!” Sami hollered. She closed the door, and Alex and Andrew backed off.
“I think we best be backing up,” Alex quietly mumbled. Andrew nodded in agreement. They turned and ran to the stairwell.
Martin twisted the set of keys, which powered the system electronics. There was a staunch beep, and then the lights in the flight deck began to turn on, one after the other.
The helicopter was controlled by two main components, the yolk and the cyclic. The cyclic adjusted power, where as the yolk stick controlled flight direction. Martin had played on various simulators before, and took some time flying Bell choppers. But this was different in all aspects.
“Here, put this on.” Martin reached back, and grabbed two of the headsets mounted on pegs. He handed one to her.
“Thanks. I’m assuming this is because the props are loud.” She dawned the headset, and adjusted the microphone boom, so it was closer to her mouth.
“Half right. Actually it’s called a rotor if we want to be technical. A prop is short for propeller… which would be found…”
“Yeah, I get the point.” Sami said, disgusted with the technical talk. “I think you should just get us going.”
Martin nodded and flipped the fuel flow switch, the two magnetos, and hoped for the best.
“Now, I just need to turn on the avionics…” His finger traced the white master switch. It was excruciating, knowing that the moment he activated the switch, the 8’ foot rotors would begin to twirl in a ballet of death, only a few feet above his head.
“Just press the button, every moment you delay, the fear builds to higher levels, Martin.” Sami leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes.
“Yeah.” He gulped, and pushed the switch up. He half expected the chopper to explode, showering the deck of the yacht with fire and gore. But it didn’t. The rotor didn’t even begin to move. He did hear a few other noises. The first was a low-pitched hum, which he could guess was the battery turning on. The second was a long drone of static, coming from the radio. Martin flicked on transponder, and in a pointless effort, grabbed the radio and talked in.
“Hello? Can anyone hear me? If so, please respond. There has a been a disaster, everyone has vanished. Please respond, we are in a rotary type craft.” He knew it was in vain, and no one would answer. He set the radio down on its holder, and relaxed into the softness of the leather seat. Leather? Oh, how luxurious. He hadn’t taken the time to notice the fancy seats, but threw the thought aside as if it were trash. After all, it was a helicopter onboard some millionaire’s yacht.
The fuel indicator was simply an analog device, and the needle was softly resting at 98%. They should be fine for a while. The radio’s static was still audible, but it didn’t matter. When the rotors started, it would be gone, drowned out by a much larger looming presence. Now all he had to do was set the rotors, and they should be flying. Martin rested his hands on the cyclic. The feeling of the material was slick and cold. Just now, he realized that the one thing he preached about, warned about, was now taking over. Fear coursed through his veins, chilled his body, and made him tremble.
“Martin. Start the rotors.” Sami demanded. She sensed what was happening. She concentrated on his eyes. Normally a deep blue, they now looked dull and dingy, colorless. They stared directly ahead, never moving for the slightest glance at his surroundings.
“Martin!” She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him violently. Martin snapped to attention, and gasped for breath. He must have been holding it.
“Martin, start the rotors now. Don’t hesitate. Don’t you remember the elements that build the imaginary monster in the closet, the one we call fear?”
He listened to her for a moment, and his senses finally came too. She had done it, managed to break the grip it had on him.
“Yes… start the rotors. Nothing to fear, but fear itself,” Martin whispered silently, the words just barely rolling off his lips.
“That’s right. Now get going. We have people to save.” She calmly explained, making sure the words dissipated appropriately.
He understood what he had to do now. Save them… but first he had to get there. He could do this; a simulator is very similar to the real thing. His hand gripped the engine auto start and, without hesitation, pulled it sharply.
He first heard the loud piercing tone of the warning siren, designed to clear the area of potential hazardous bodies. Then it started. Through the panel of glass in the ceiling up front, he saw the blades slowly begin to dance. Martin watched as they passed by once, then twice. The speed of the rotors dramatically increased, and the blades were now in full motion. The noise created by the whirling metal wasn’t quite deafening, but it was getting there. It was more of a quick series of loud dull hums.
Martin checked his old analogue instruments. The engine’s RPM needle hovered lightly over the mid green point. He was good. He turned his head, to glance at Sami, who was calmly looking out the window.
“I think it’s time you push the cyclic,” she muttered silently, only audible due to the microphone boom hanging from the headset he had given her earlier.
“Yeah, I know.” His voice was projected; Sami was reminded of someone with a cold or bad sinuses.
Again, without hesitation, Martin pushed the cyclic up, increasing power.
Outside, Alex and Andrew hid inside the alcove created by the staircase hatch, he could see them peering over the wall in amazement. He could barely imagine how loud the rotors were, 20 feet away from them.
Martin didn’t quite realize it at first, but the wheels on the bottom of the helicopter had left the ship's deck. It wasn’t until he lightly bumped the control yolk, until he realized. He had an amazing feeling, as he quickly flew towards the direction he had bumped it. His stomach felt like it was floating, and the speed they moved at with such a little bump was beyond incredible. But he didn’t let the fulfilling sensations stop him from taking control of the craft, he gripped the yolk and slowly tried to counterbalance the swinging motion.
Once Sami realized that Martin had the situation under control, she breathed a sigh of relief and returned her view to out the window. This was the first time she had ever flown in anything. The feeling was exciting, but she knew that it would be best to just hide the feeling, because anything she ever enjoyed, never seemed to last very long in the end. It was however a very nice view from up here. She could see the entire yacht they had just been on, still large, but nothing compared to the monster of a ship that loomed towards the helicopter.
And a monster it was; the Norwegian ship was massive. Sami began to count the decks visible. She could see 14 total decks of balconies, and even more underneath, with windows. She redid the calculations Martin had made earlier, and concluded that there could easily be 5,000 passengers on board. She had heard about the new line of ships, designed to match Royal Caribbean’s Freedom class. When the thought floated across her mind, that there was probably no one but a few survivors on the ship, she shuttered. A ghost ship. Those words chilled her to the bone, and she didn’t even have to say it, for it to be true.
Martin was gaining altitude and trying to get above the ship, a problem he didn’t expect having. Although it was a problem, it was one solved easily. He increased the cyclic to its max, and watched as the altimeter climbed. Once he was visually above the ship, he lowered the throttle again, trying to get it to hover. The altitude was reading at about 600 feet.
Sami could see the crashing white caps beneath them, the icy waves licking at the hull of the massive ship. Those waves were a deep blue, and looked cold and unforgiving from the air. She knew that the waters were actually warm, but it probably wouldn’t matter if the craft were sinking to the bottom of the sea, with them in it. She brushed away the dooming thought and changed her chain of thought. How was Martin doing? She watched as he monitored the controls intensely, fiercely trying to make sure nothing bad happened. She wondered how excruciating it would be, to have to control a complicated, running machine, that he had no experience controlling. She knew he had used one on a simulator before, but this was far different, and Sami had the feeling that he knew that as well. She didn’t want to say anything that would break his confidence that she helped him mount.
“How’s it going?” She asked, half listening to her own voice over the headset. She watched as he though about the answer.
“Ah, I’ve been better… I’m really nervous right now, and… well, let’s just leave it at that.” He nervously chuckled. His eyes never moved from looking out the window.
“Well, as much as I hate to say it, you’re doing good.” She just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t complement someone correctly, no matter how hard she tried. She wasn’t really ashamed; she had been like that all her life.
“Hah…” He tried to manage that same fake laugh; it made her stomach feel like it would turn inside out.
He brought the chopper around the bow of the liner, and spotted a large concrete pad, with a big “H” marked dead center. There was currently no helicopter on it, so he breathed a sigh of relief. But a bigger problem existed, one that put an obstructing helicopter to shame. The ship was moving, and was moving fast, at about 30 knots. It was really obvious, when he had trouble catching up with it, even with his airspeed at 80 knots.
“Sami, I need you to open the door and look outside, for anyone running along the decks. I’m sure they could here us with the noise we’re making.”
Sami looked at him with crazy eyes, not knowing exactly if he was being sarcastic or not. “Open to door!” Martin exclaimed. “What are you, fucking crazy? I’m not opening the door on an aircraft!” She yelled.
Martin was half expecting that answer, but had prepared a response. “The cabin isn’t pressurized. When you open the door, it will just be a bit windy. The door is actually designed to open in flight, for search and rescue missions. If you open the door, we’ll be able to see the deck of the liner more easily, thus spotting any survivors.” Sami listened to the idea and decided he was still crazy, but it was a workable answer.
“I’ll fucking kill you if this goes wrong. How do I open the door?” Martin sighed and quickly examined the lever on the door marked “Open”.
“Figure it out yourself.” He turned to look out the window again, concentrating on flying the chopper around the ship. Sami glared at him coldly, but decided hitting him would result in both of their deaths. She sighed in defeat, and examined the handle.
“Here goes nothing.” She pulled the latch up. Instead of the door flying open, it only popped halfway ajar. The outside air seeped in, and it became a hole much louder, but there was no extreme suction, like she had predicated.
Slowly, she put weight on the door and it slid back, like the door on a minivan. Actually, the wind felt good on her skin, and the air was pretty fresh to breath. She stuck her head and legs out the door, looking for any survivors.
The deck of the ship was deserted; she could see the many lounge chairs and some must have had people in them when it happened.
“Bring us lower,” she commanded. Martin responded by lowering the RPM in the engine, and she felt her body being slowly dropped. She looked at the pool, which was still capacitated with salt water. There was a diving board, and even a slide. It was a strange thought knowing people were just having a swim, when suddenly they evaporated. If that was what had happened…
As they came to the front of the ship once more, Sami saw something moving.
“Over there! I see movment!” Martin looked in the direction she was pointing. Indeed there was, two humans were on the top deck at the bow, waving their arms desperately. Sami couldn’t tell what they looked like yet, but knew they were people, and Martin’s prediction was correct. There were indeed survivors on the ship.
Martin lowered the airspeed, by pitching the nose up and lowering the throttle. He tried to slowly lower himself and to fly close to the people, so he could tell them where to go.
Sami could make out their faces now, one male and one female.
“Can you here me!?” She desperately hollered over the rotors.
The two people on the deck looked at each other, and started screaming in response. The voices were audible, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Closer, Martin,” she commanded. Martin was getting anxious now, noting the rotors were spinning awfully close to the ship’s radar mast. He knew if they hit the structure, there would be nothing to stop them from exploding on the ship’s deck.
“Can you hear me!?” She screamed once again. Martin winced when the microphone picked up her scream. It felt like it would burst his eardrums.
This time, they both could hear the response. “We can hear you! Can you pick us up!?” Martin looked to Sami, and pointed at the helipad. Since the survivors were on top of the bow, they could probably see the helipad if they looked over the railings.
“Go to the helipad! We’ll land there!” She ordered the survivors. She pointed with her index finger as well, trying to have them understand that they couldn’t land on the deck of cruise ship. The two looked at each other, and began to chat quickly. The male pointed to the direction of the helipad, and the female began to nod her head. They both looked up, and the man gave the thumbs up signal. Sami returned the gesture, and closed the door.
“Ok, let’s go land this gal,” Martin exclaimed. His heart began to race at the thought of the attempt he would make. Landing on a moving object. This would be unreal.
Create a free website at Webs.com