Day Four by Sarah Lotz

Author:Sarah Lotz [Lotz, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2015-05-21T05:00:00+00:00

The Devil’s Handmaiden

The laundry room, usually a hive of activity, of sudsy smells and voices and the whir of the giant machines, was deserted and dark and reeked of mildew. Althea hefted the bags containing the filthy sheets and towels and dumped them in the corner. Somebody else’s problem now. Most of them belonged to the Linemans. Mrs Lineman hadn’t lifted a finger to help her, and didn’t seem at all embarrassed that her stateroom was a slovenly mess of soiled towels, sheets and body fluids. It had taken her over an hour to put it straight. Still, the thought of that stupid bastardo being forced to void his bowels in a bag almost made up for all the extra work. In contrast, Helen had insisted on changing the sheets herself, and had respectfully asked Althea if she could bring her a bucket, chlorine spray and rags so that she could clean up after Elise should the need arise. She must go and check on Elise and Helen again later, ensure that they had everything they needed.

She was surprised the ship hadn’t gone into red alert; she’d been through two norovirus outbreaks over the years and it was standard procedure. Althea had no intention of getting it. It was simple: wash and disinfect your hands; don’t touch any surfaces without wearing gloves and be liberal with the chlorine bleach spray. There were two more sick passengers on the starboard side – Electra hadn’t shown up to service her station – and Althea had made sure the guests wanted for nothing. When the ship eventually limped home to shore, the fact that they’d been stranded for so long would be a big story. And when it was all over, it would be Althea the guests would remember. She hadn’t abandoned her station once. But it was taking its toll. The exhaustion felt like a slow acid crawling up her legs. She hadn’t slept well. How could she? The boy had come to her last night in her dreams (at least she hoped it was in her dreams). He’d curled up at the foot of her bed, and she’d barely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing him.

Then Mirasol had returned from the bathroom, slamming the door, and the boy . . . the boy was gone. Perhaps the boy she was seeing was hers. The child in her belly. The baby she was going to have. Telling her that she must accept her fate. She shook her head. Loco. There was no madness in her family, although her sister was of a nervous disposition and had become moody, irrational and withdrawn after she’d had her third child. But that was normal. Althea had seen it many times. No. It was just the stress. This situation was frightening. Even the old hands who had been on the ships for years were spooked. The Internet was still down, and Angelo said it wouldn’t be long before the emergency generators ran out of juice. Paulo had a short-wave radio in his cabin and even he couldn’t get a signal.

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