by
Jason Gaston and Jayelle Carey
Beta-read by Jayelle Carey
Special Thanks to the IS Staff
Beta-read by Jayelle Carey
Special Thanks to the IS Staff
Jessi Parker stumbled over some oddly placed patio chairs and fell, face-down, onto the wood deck of the Flying Dutchman, the so-called relaxing cruise ship which had turned into a living nightmare for whatever crew was still alive below or above decks. She quickly righted herself and tried to get to her feet, but it was too late....
The killer had caught up with her.
The seaweed-covered, supernatural figure that one of the murdered passengers had jokingly referred to as "Davy Jones," stood over her. He seemed to be over ten feet tall as he clutched a long and rusted pirate's sword with both hands, his decayed nostrils flaring in fury.
"What do you what?" Jessi cried in terror. "WHAT DO YOU WANT!?"
"I be the ghost o' Cap'n Blackbeard," the specter replied in a sickening voice that seemed to be gurgled with some sort of fluid. He prepared to skewer the woman with his sword. "And you've disturbed my rust and for that you will--"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... CUT!" an agitated voice chimed in from a few feet away. "What did you say? Did you say, 'you've disturbed my RUST'? What the hell? It's... REST, Apollo! REST!"
The ghastly zombie dropped his sword to the ground and put his hands on his hips. "I can't read those cue cards, Dan. I thought it said rust!"
Jessi huffed and got to her feet, the wind from the sea blowing her hair about. "Apollo, why don't you just memorize the script like the *rust* of us?" She playfully elbowed him in the side.
"Oh." Apollo smirked as he took off his seaweed-encrusted pirate's hat. "Look, all my lines are like, 'BOO' and 'RAR' and 'I'LL GET YOU!!! BLAAAAAHHH!'" He held his hands up and wiggled them as he towered over his co-star. "This script sucks anyway. Who's ever heard of the ghost of Blackbeard? It sounds like a bad episode of Scooby-Doo! A Scrappy episode, even!"
"Look, don't panic. Everything will be alright," Director Dan Pratt said, trying to calm his actors. However, from his demeanor, Pratt looked as if he could use some calming himself.
"How is everything going to be alright? Is Hollywood going to be wiped out by an asteroid?" Apollo huffed. "God, my film career's gonna be over before it even STARTS! It's a Scrappy episode!"
"I said don't panic. I've... called up a re-write," Pratt told them.
Jessi was shocked. "YOU CALLED UP A--"
Pratt nervously silenced her.
"You called up a re-write?" Jessi whispered. "Has..." She looked around. "Has you-know-who found out about this?"
Pratt shook his head. "Not yet, and not soon if I have anything to do about it. The last thing I need is *another* egomaniac on set."
"Aw, man," Apollo laughed. "I can't believe you did it! When's it supposed to get here? Tell me this lame Captain Blackbeard thing isn't in it anymore. I mean, Davy Jones is pretty cool, I guess... but the whole Captain Blackbeard thing is so Scrappy-Doo."
"The re-write's coming in when our star gets here," Pratt replied. "And as for the Captain Blackbeard thing... we'll see."
"Oh, our star, huh? And just when is boat-boy going to grace us with his awe-inspiring presence so we can once again bask in his glory?" Jessi asked impatiently.
Apollo smirked. "Do I sense sarcasm?"
"You do," she answered.
"He'll be here soon," the director told her. "And if you want to stay on his good side - and I want you to - please, please, please don't call him 'boat-boy.' He's still reeling from *that* movie, and you've heard of his ego."
"I'm here!" a deep, burly, English voice called out from behind the three. All of them turned to see a large, imposing, bearded man standing there. "Professor Maximillion Arturo."
"Professor?" Apollo mumbled to himself.
Pratt regarded the man curiously. "Ooookay... what can I do for you, Professor?"
"My friends and I are..." he inhaled slowly as if he wasn't looking foreword to the next few days, "here to work on your movie."
"Oh, you must be the new crew we asked for," Pratt realized. "Well, hello... Professor...." He cast a sideways glance to his actors who snickered to themselves. "Welcome aboard the SS Victory or, as it's going to be called in our movie, The Flying Dutchman."
"Thrilled," Arturo grumbled. "My friends need to know where you want us to unload all of the equipment in the truck?"
"Just... put it somewhere on the deck," Pratt told him. "We're a pretty low budget, independent studio and don't really care about organization."
"Or apparently film-making for that matter," Arturo whispered softly before smiling at his new boss. "Thank you, sir."
"Just look for my assistant, Jayelle Carey," Pratt called to him as he moved off. "She'll give you the specifics!"
As Arturo walked down the gangplank, Jessi tapped Apollo on the shoulder. "What's that guy a professor of anyway?"
"Eating?" Apollo guessed.
Jessi slapped him hard on the back. "That wasn't nice."
"Sorry," he sheepishly answered.
-----
Quinn Mallory lugged a rather heavy monitor across the docks towards the small cruise ship that he and his friends would be employed on for the next few days.
"Isn't this exciting!?" Wade chirped as she put a heavy cable on top of the monitor Quinn was carrying. "Working on the set of a horror movie, out at sea... and over Halloween no less!"
"Exciting," Quinn moaned.
"Yeah," Rembrandt added, picking up some more electrical cables and putting them over his shoulder. "A much better improvement than where we spent Halloween last year."
"Last year?" Maggie inquired as she put a small box on top of the monitor and cables that Quinn was already carrying.
Quinn rolled his eyes and quickly walked away before anyone could load anything else on him.
Wade wiped a few beads of sweat off of her forehead. "Satan worshipers, an evil spirit named Xanirit, a few werewolves, and lots and lots of candy corn," she told Maggie. "It's a complicated story. Ask us again sometime."
"I think I'll just let it go," Maggie wisely answered. She looked up and saw a fair, slender, young woman heading towards the gangplank that led up to the large yacht. She was carrying even more stuff than Quinn, if that was possible. She leaned against the rail of the gangplank and balanced her load of boxes on one knee. She reached up with one arm, trying not to drop the clipboard which was held under it, and attempted to shove some loose hair back through the hole in her baseball cap. "Looks like somebody else is as excited as we are," mumbled Maggie.
The young woman smiled when she noticed the five staring at her, and she made her way over to them. "Hello," she said to the sliders, then spit the marker from her mouth into one of the boxes she was holding so that she could actually be understood. "Jayelle Carey, Assistant Director." She shifted her weight so that she could awkwardly extend a cordial hand to Quinn. This time the clipboard did fall. She blew some stray brown hair out of her face in agitation. Then she realized that Quinn was holding almost as much as she was and resignedly put her hand back on the boxes before she dropped them. She stepped on the edge of clipboard, making it stand on end, then carefully bent her knees until she was able to catch it with her fingers.
Despite the torn jeans, T-shirt that needed ironing, grungy baseball cap, and about five different kinds of tape hanging from her belt which completed the grease-monkey look, Quinn thought she was actually kinda cute. Looking down at her, he gave her a sly smile. Wade took note of it and shot him a dirty look.
Maggie just got an expression on her face that said, 'THAT is our boss!?'
"But don't let the 'assistant' part fool you," continued Jayelle. "If you need something, I'm the one to tell."
"Ah yes," Arturo said. "Mr. Pratt told us you'd be responsible for our assignments."
Jayelle blinked a few times. "Assignments? You mean you don't know what you're supposed to be doing on the set!?"
The sliders shook their heads. "We were told to help unload the truck, but other than that, we're clueless," Wade told her.
Jayelle silently cursed, glaring back at the director who was far away on the deck of the ship. She looked back at the sliders. "Okay, okay... I *can* handle this." She craned her neck and looked over the clipboard she was carrying. "Um, we need... a make-up person." She looked at Wade and Maggie. "Ladies, please tell me that you know something about make-up."
"I did stage make-up in high school," Wade answered. "Name's Wade Wells."
"Good enough. You're hired." Jayelle tried to shuffle her load enough so that she could retrieve her pen back from the box. Giving up, she finally just set everything down in a heap, then made a note in her book. "Okay..." She pointed at Quinn and Rembrandt. "You two look like big, strong, and handsome men." Quinn noted how she was looking his way when she'd said the handsome part. "How'd you like to be grips?"
"Grips?" Rembrandt inquired.
"You know," Jayelle explained. "You haul equipment around and stuff like that. Basically, you're just doing odd jobs around the set. But don't touch the lights 'cause I don't want any union problems. Our gaffer has a thing about us mixing grips up with his electrics and--" she cut herself off, realizing that she was starting to babble. "You haul equipment around."
"I guess we can live with that," Quinn hesitantly said.
"Great," Jayelle said, making another note in her book. "What are your names?"
"Rembrandt Brown," Remmy told her.
"Quinn Mallory," Quinn said.
"Wonderful." She paused a moment, trying to organize her thoughts. "And finally, we need two assistants for our star," Jayelle said, finishing her notes.
Arturo cocked his head. "Assistants in what manner?"
"Well," Jayelle began, "you've got to understand that our star is used to big-budget pictures and perks and stuff, and him being in this movie could be a box-office boom for us."
"And you want to keep him happy, huh?" Maggie gathered. "Fine, we can run errands for the guy, I guess."
"Great," Jayelle sighed. "You're a life-saver, Miss..."
"Beckett. Maggie," Maggie answered. "This is Max Arturo."
"Professor Max Arturo," the professor corrected.
"Uh-huh," the assistant mumbled. "Okay, Mr. Big should be here in a few minutes, so get ready." Her eyebrows creased and she bit her lower lip. "It's going to be an adventure for you."
"Wait a second," Maggie said. "Who is the star anyway?"
Jayelle looked at them quizzically. "You mean you don't know?"
Maggie shook her head, thinking she was about to meet Richard Gere or some other Hollywood hot-shot.
"It's Jason Donner," Jayelle told them before closing her notebook. "Okay, Wade, the make-up room is in cabin 203, B-deck. We should be ready to shove off in about an hour."
"I'll be ready," she said as Jayelle turned around, picking up her stuff and heading up the gangplank.
"Jason Donner?" Quinn said, scratching his head. "Why does that sound so familiar?"
"Don't tell me you don't remember!" Wade exclaimed happily. "You remember that world we landed on last year where our lives were a TV show?"
Quinn remembered. "Oh yeah! He's the one who helped us find Maggie when she got kidnapped by that crazy fan person."
"He said he wanted to be an actor," Wade told them. "I guess he got his wish on this world." She grinned. "I can't wait to see him again! You know, he had quite a crush on me."
"Wade," Rembrandt whispered. "You do know that this isn't the same guy. I mean, it's a completely different person and he's not going to recognize you."
"Still," Wade sighed, boarding the ship behind Carey.
Arturo felt a tap on his shoulder and, when he turned around, saw a man and a woman standing behind him. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"Angie Chandler," the woman said, introducing herself. She was short - shorter than Wade, even - and had long, fair hair. "This is Seth Deaton."
"Hi," Seth said, giving a small wave. He was young, had light brown hair styled in a hip fashion, and a goatee.
"So," Arturo said again, "can we help you?"
Angie cleared her throat. "We were wondering if you could tell us where we can find..." she looked at a piece of paper, "Dan Pratt?"
"The director?" Quinn asked.
"I guess," Angie said.
"He's up on the ship," Quinn told them. "You part of the crew?"
"We're the effects people," Seth answered.
"And we're very busy," Angie said, silencing him. "Thank you," she said to Quinn before both of them walked quietly onto the ship.
"I'm looking for Quinn Mallory and Rembrandt Brown!" a new voice called out.
Quinn turned around and saw a young kid with a blue shirt and blonde hair. "I'm Quinn, this is Rembrandt," Quinn answered.
"Great," the kid said. "David Trez," he continued, offering his hand in friendship. "I'm the key grip, and please don't let my age fool ya. I've got a lot of experience in film-making."
Quinn didn't want to venture a guess, but he figured that David was sixteen or seventeen. Although, when he thought about it, Jayelle had only appeared a few years older and she was an assistant director already. He shrugged.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Trez," Rembrandt said, smiling and shaking his hand.
"Ugh!" the young man moaned. "It's just Trez, please. No 'mister' or anything, Mr. Mallory."
"I'm Brown," Rembrandt corrected him. "That's Mallory."
"Oh, right," Trez said. "I..." He stopped and looked down the docks. A limousine had pulled up. "Uh-oh!"
"Uh-oh what?" Rembrandt asked.
Trez looked at Rembrandt and gritted his teeth. "Donner's here."
Down the docks, by the road, the long, black limousine door opened and a lone figure, wearing a 'bite me, fanboy' T-shirt, stepped out. It was Jason Donner - the counterpart of one of the slider's allies on a world visited long ago.
"Look," Trez said, backing away. "I'm already on this guy's hit-list for the 'boat-boy' crack I started. I'm out of here. See you guys on board in about an hour."
As Trez left, Quinn watched Donner approach. He was smoking a cigarette, something his counterpart never did. Donner passed them and gave the sliders a casual glance, then turned back. "Oh god, don't tell me YOU'RE my assistant on this shoot," he moaned, rolling his eyes at Arturo and exhaling a cloud of nicotine.
"I'm sorry to say that I am ONE of your assistants, sir," Arturo growled. It was apparent that there would be a clash of egos on this slide already. "Ms. Beckett here will be assisting you as well."
Donner smiled, leering at Maggie. "Now, THAT'S more like it," he said, eyeing her body. "Jason Donner," he said slowly, shaking her hand. "Yours?"
"Maggie Beckett," she replied, turning quite ill.
Donner kissed her hand. "Beautiful name." He gave her a pair of keys and whispered into her ear, "Cabin 101, A-Deck." With that, he winked at her and boarded the ship.
Quinn couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. "Maggie?" he asked, trying to control a fit of hysteria.
She clutched the cabin key tightly in her hand. "I... am going... to kill him."
"You're going to have to wait in a very long line, my dear," a short, slim, black-haired woman grumbled from behind them. None of the sliders had even noticed her until she spoke up. "Jason Donner has many, many, many enemies. Harrison Ford, Sigorney Weaver... Leonardo DiCaprio. Well, I'm sure you've read the Enquirer like the rest of us."
The woman saw the sliders' blank stares. "Oh, I'm sorry," she laughed, extending her had to them. "I'm Jessica. Jessica Chelsea Chan. I guess you'll be working on the movie with us all."
"That's right," Rembrandt told her.
"Great," Jessica grinned. "I'm a little nervous, you know. First big acting break. Oh, I've done some commercials and a sit-com on UPN - that lasted about a week - but this is my first movie!"
Rembrandt shook her hand. "Oh, you must be one of the stars!"
"Well," Jessica shrugged. "One day maybe."
"I'm a grip," Rembrandt told her, still unsure as to what exactly a grip was.
Jessica smiled. "Oh, I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other. Just wait 'til you meet Jessi and Apollo. They're both great people."
"How many actors have we got on this ship, anyway?" Quinn asked.
"Oh," Jessica said, thinking about the question. "Right now it's about fifteen, well, counting the film crew and boat crew, but we're shooting scenes with just the heavies over the next few days, so I guess it'll just be Donner, Jessi, Apollo, and me. Oh, wait 'til you..."
Jessica stopped when she heard yelling coming from the boat deck. She could hear a man's voice, a woman's voice, another man's voice, and another woman's voice. "Ortloff," Jessica moaned.
"Who?" Wade asked.
"You'll see," Jessica sighed. "Come on guys, we may need you to help break up a fight."
The sliders raced after the actress and onto the gangplank of the ship. On the main deck, they saw Wade, Donner, Jayelle, Dan Pratt, and another woman. Wade appeared to be trying to bring peace to the assembly, but it was proving futile.
Quinn raced to Wade's side. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Wade replied. "I was talking to Miss Carey and the next thing I know, Donner and that woman over there started arguing with that guy." She pointed at Pratt.
"That's Melody Ortloff," Jessica explained. "She's the screenwriter. Kind of a nut job, but don't tell her I said that."
"Alright, Pratt," Melody said, radiating fury, "I know what you're doing and I'm not about to stand for it! I re-write, I don't get re-written!"
Pratt frantically tried to calm her down. "Look, Mitchell did the re-write. Okay, some of the rewrite, Melody," he explained. "You've seen his last horror movie, 'Full Moon'... it was a box office sensation! How could we pass up not using his talents on this," he swallowed, "all ready ingenious script!"
She glared at him. "I don't care if Mitchell wrote it. I don't care if Hitchcock rewrote it after you raised him from the dead using a pagan ritual involving the sacrifice of a dozen virgins! How dare you change my script without telling me!?"
"Because it sucked," Donner told her. "There's no other way of saying it, babe... you're script sucked harder than that black hole at the end of Lost in Space."
Melody whirled and faced the actor who grinned at her through his sunshades. "You I don't even want to talk to," she growled. "You think I don't smell your handiwork on this re-write too?"
"What makes you think I had anything to do with the re-write?" he innocently replied.
"Well," Melody said, leafing through the script. "Ah... Page 102. The love scene with Debbie where she does a topless dance for John."
"Debbie?" Jessica yelped. "That's *my* part!?" She walked up to Donner and started jabbing him in the chest with her finger. "Of all the conceded, male, chauvinist, pig-headed things to do! If you think I'm going to do any nude scenes in this movie, BOAT-BOY, you've got another thing coming!"
"Did you... just call me Boat Boy?"
"Gentlemen! Ladies!" Carey said, holding her hands out and putting some distance between the warring factions. "This is not the way to handle things! If you've got disputes, why don't you TALK about them!?"
Donner glared at Jessica and Melody. "Fine, I can be grown up about this."
"We'll see," Melody hissed, pointing her finger in his face. "One way or another, I'll see you pay, Donner." She stormed off the ship. "I'll see you all pay!"
Jessica stomped over to the sliders. "Do you believe that guy?" she angrily asked.
"What's with that 'boat-boy' thing?" Wade asked.
"Oh, he and this big-shot director did a historical epic a while back that cost over 200 million to make," Jessica explained. "Problem is... everyone knew that the boat was going to sink and no one bothered to go see it." She grinned. "His career's been in shambles ever since..." her voice went up a few octaves "...AND IT SERVES HIM RIGHT!!!"
"Bite me!" he called back.
"Nothing like the Donner we met," Arturo whispered to Quinn. "This chap is so full of himself I should think he might explode."
"I guess that's what fame does to you," Quinn figured.
-----
Wade walked out of the make-up cabin just in time to see a man fall from the upper decks and go over the side. "Oh my God!" she whispered as she ran to look over the side. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a large air mattress on the docks below, the man safely cradled in it's embrace.
"So, how'd it look?" the guy called up to her.
Wade grinned. "Very convincing!" she called back. "I thought you'd really gone overboard!"
"Name's David Perrison," the man continued. "I'm the stunt guy."
"Wade Wells. Make-up."
"Oh, you're the one who's going to make all the actors look all bloody and stuff," he said, rolling off of the airbag. "You've got your work cut out for you, honey."
"I guess I do," Wade smiled. She liked this guy. "I suppose I should let you get back to your falling and stuff." She waved and walked back onto the deck just in time to see Angie Chandler and her partner Seth Deaton come out of the make-up room. "Uh... Can I help you?" she asked.
Seth seemed surprised to see her. "No, thank you. We're just--"
Wade stared at him. "Do you have make-up powder on your lip?"
He wiped his lip and looked unconvertible. "No, I... had one of those little powdered donuts this morning."
Wade nodded. "Okay, but that still doesn't explain what you were doing in my make-up room."
Angie cleared her throat. "We were looking for Mr. Pratt," she explained.
Wade crossed her arms and looked skeptical. "Fair enough. So, tell me, what are you guys doing on this shoot? Are you grips? Lighting technicians?"
"Yeah," Angie said, "we're lighting technicians."
"And we're very busy," Seth quickly said. "Excuse us." With that, they hurriedly walked away.
"Weird people!" David called out from above Wade's head before leaping off the ship again.
-----
"I don't like the look of this weather," Captain Ryan Muldowney sighed, watching the clouds building on the horizon. He took a sip of coffee and glanced over at Dan Pratt who was sitting in the corner of the bridge nervously tapping his forehead with his finger. "Of course, I know the old studio mantra... I don't get paid to think."
Pratt looked up. "Captain, if we weren't over budget and running out of time, I'd heed to your judgment, but I simply don't have that luxury." He grabbed his temples.
"Headache?" Muldowney asked.
Pratt nodded. "Ever since Donner came aboard it's gotten worse and worse."
Kevin Riley, the ship's engineer, decided to join the conversation. "Seemed like a nice guy to me. Look," he said, holding up a picture, "gave me an autograph for my cousin and it didn't cost too much, either."
"You paid for Donner's autograph?" Nicole Leonoff, the Victory's cruise director asked.
"Only five dollars," Kevin replied.
The door to the bridge opened and Liam Smith entered. "Harbor master's given us the okay to shove off," he told the crew. Normally, Liam's duties on the Victory included cooking and cleaning, but due to the unusual nature of this particular cruise, he was helping out on the bridge.
"Great," Pratt said, sighing. "Captain, take us out."
Muldowney nodded, still hesitant about taking his boat out into bad weather. "Mr. Riley," he said, "take us out."
The door opened again and Professor Arturo entered. "Can I help you, sir?" Muldowney inquired.
Arturo nodded. "I wanted to see a weather report. You have noticed the building clouds out there, haven't you?"
"I have."
"Well, don't you think we should be staying in dock until the storm passes?"
Muldowney smiled. "I see you haven't heard the studio mantra yet."
----
"I'm telling you, Quinn, there's something with those two!" Wade confided while in one of the yacht's lower decks where the equipment was being stored. "I think that Seth Deaton guy was sniffing make-up like it was happy powder or something."
Quinn gave her a look. "Happy powder?"
She shrugged. "Happy powder."
"Wade," Quinn laughed, "unless your make-up is addictive, I don't think we have anything to worry about."
"They just give me the creeps," she admitted.
The door opened and Rembrandt stepped inside. "Hey guys," he began, "it's really starting to look nasty up there."
"Donner causing more trouble?" Wade asked.
"No," Remmy smiled, "I mean the sky's really clouding up."
"Weather report say anything?" Quinn asked.
"The professor's been keeping an eye on it on the bridge," he said. "All they're saying is that we have a fifty percent chance of thunderstorms. If you ask me, it looks like the weather service on this world is about fifty years behind ours."
Quinn felt the deck move under his feet. "Well, it must not be too serious. Feels like we just shoved off."
Trez appeared in the doorway. "Hey guys," he called, "there's some lightning on the horizon and Dan thinks it'd look really good in a background shot. We need a camera and a few lights up on deck, pronto."
"Why aren't the lighting technicians handling the lights?" Wade asked him.
Trez huffed. "What lighting technicians? We couldn't get any on this shoestring budget we're on." He nodded at Quinn and Rembrandt. "You two *are* the lighting technicians. I'll see you guys on deck."
As he left, Wade looked at her friends. "Guys, if there aren't any lighting technicians on this shoot, then who the hell are Seth Deaton and Angela Chandler?"
"They told us they were FX people," Rembrandt said, picking up a large movie camera.
"Well, they told me that they were lighting technicians," Wade replied. "Guys, there is something funny going on around here."
"Look," Quinn said in a reassuring tone, "we'll keep an eye on them. Chances are that they're friends of Donner's or the director's and they're just on board for the free cruise."
He picked up a few flood lights and followed Rembrandt up onto the deck. The sky was growing blackish-blue and lightning cracked not far away. The shoreline was growing more distant by the minute. "There's got to be more to it than that," Wade maintained. "I hate to say this, but..."
"...I've got a bad feeling about this," Rembrandt and Quinn said together.
"Have I really become that predictable?" Wade moaned.
Jayelle ran to meet them. "Hurry, come on!" she said. "Dan's scared that the lightning's going to spontaneously disappear or something and he wants to do this shot now." She was already moving on before suddenly doing a double-take at Quinn. "Why aren't the electrics doing the lighting?"
"Trez said that we are the electrics," Quinn told her.
"Damn it, Dan," Jayelle groaned. "That stupid budget. If he fires one more of my people..." The rest of her sentence faded into the wind as she walked off.
Quinn quickly followed her up to the deck and set up the lights, and Rembrandt set the camera on the tripod where Jayelle indicated.
"Okay," Pratt said, rubbing his hands together, "here's the shot." He pointed at Jessi. "You're standing on the deck watching your boyfriend," he pointed at Donner who was sitting in a nearby director's chair and reading Variety, "fight with the killer on the main deck." He pointed up to the main deck where David Perrison was getting ready for a stunt, wearing the same clothing Donner was wearing. "Your boyfriend is going to get kicked in the stomach and fall overboard into that lifeboat." He pointed at the lifeboat hanging on the side of the ship which had a large blow-up mattress waiting inside. He turned back to Jessi once more. "All you have to do is scream out your boyfriend's name as he falls past you. Got it?"
Jessi spit out her gum into the ocean. "Yeah, yeah... got it."
Pratt looked over at David. "You ready, Perrison?" he called.
The stuntman gave a thumbs up, and Dan sat in his director's chair. Jayelle looked over at Donner who was still in her chair. She sighed as she pulled a light meter from around her neck. "Hey, um..." she pondered over Quinn's name. "Grip guy," she finally called, motioning him over.
"Yeah?" Quinn asked, joining her at the edge of the main deck.
"Quinten, was it?" she inquired.
"Just Quinn." He smiled.
"Right." She pushed him over a few feet and onto a little X of blue tape. "You've got about the same skin tone as boat-boy, so I'm gonna get a reading off ya, 'kay?" She didn't wait for a reply before heading over to Rembrandt, who was standing next to the camera, and taking a light reading. Then she looked around. "Anyone got an 18 gray?"
Quinn just watched her fumble around with adjusting the lights until Dan yelled at her and she motioned for Donner to take Quinn's place. When he moseyed over, Quinn walked back across the deck and stood next to Wade, ready to watch the scene.
Jayelle hurriedly placed a scrim on the large key light. "Am I going to be lit right when I fall?" David shouted over to her.
"You're perfect, David," she yelled back, grinning at him. "Nock 'em dead!"
"Action!" Pratt eventually called out, making it sound urgent.
The cameras rolled and Perrison leapt from the main deck. "JOHN...." Jessi screamed as the stunt man fell past her and into the lifeboat.
"Cut!" Pratt said, sounding pleased.
Jessi sighed. "I can do it better. Can we do it again?"
"It was fine," Pratt said, walking past her.
"Yeah, but I can do it better! Come on, Dan... let's do another take."
Jayelle looked at Rembrandt. "Did that camera sound funny to you?" She walked over and looked at it, then back at Rembrandt. "Tell me you loaded the mag."
"The what?"
Jayelle moaned. "Dan, we didn't get any film on B-camera!"
Dan rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Christ..." he mumbled. "Alright... we'll do it one more time. Perrison, we're going to shoot it again," he called over the side. "David, did you hear me?" he asked, leaning over the railing. "I said we're doing it--" He froze.
Jessi curiously peered over the side and went as white as a sheet.
Jayelle looked also and her expression of horror matched Jessi's. "TELL THE BRIDGE TO STOP THE BOAT!" she screamed.
-----
The cast and crew solemnly gathered in the ship's small ballroom. "Uhm," Pratt began, "as far as we can tell, David crashed through the bottom of the lifeboat and was killed by the yacht's propellers."
Wade gasped and Quinn put his arm around her to comfort her.
"So I take it that we will be heading back to port?" Arturo asked.
"Not right away, no," Pratt replied.
"Dan," Jessica said, wiping a tear from her eye. "David's dead!"
"I know, Jessica, and I know it's going to be hard, but we have to finish this shoot or else the movie's going to have its plug pulled," he replied. "You know how important this movie was to David, and I think he would have wanted us to have continued filming."
"This is nuts!" Trez protested.
"Look," Pratt said, trying to calm everyone. "I know you must think that I'm being cold hearted, but David was my friend too."
"Look," Donner said, walking to Dan's side, "as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. I mean, did Brandon Lee's death cause the makers of 'The Crow' to quit? I liked David too, but he was really excited about completing this movie and I think we should honor that wish."
Jayelle nodded. "He's right," she said hesitantly, tears heavy in her eyes. "David did want this movie finished. He was really excited about being the head stuntman."
"No!" Jessica protested. "I can't do this! I- I can't act in this movie!"
"Be a professional," Jessi said to her.
"Be compassionate!" Jessica shouted back. "Be human!"
"Look," Pratt said, trying to quite the mob, "let's call it a day. We can mull it over tonight and come to a decision in the morning." He walked out of the ballroom, rubbing his temples.
"I don't think I can do this," Jessica admitted to Wade as everyone filtered out of the ballroom. "I... I can't! This is too cold!"
"Yeah," Wade said silently before noticing Seth and Angie talking in a corner. "Cold and very, very weird."
-----
Arturo and Maggie went to Donner's cabin. "Thanks for coming with me, Max," Maggie said as she put the star's clean laundry on the bed. "I don't trust this guy any further than I can throw him."
"I don't trust anyone on this ship," he told her. "Uh, present company excluded, of course."
Maggie smiled. "I can't believe people are being so cold about this. Back on my homeworld, a cadet at my base was hit by a Hummer and killed a couple of years ago. Even Colonel Rickman had the heart to call off all activities that day."
She picked up a picture, showing Donner on the bow of an old ship with his arms around a red-headed woman. There was an autograph on the bottom that read:
'You really are the king of the world.
Kisses,
Kate.'
The door opened and Donner walked in. He seemed surprised to see Arturo and Maggie waiting for him. "Hi," he said, lighting up a cigarette. "Uh... you can... you can just leave all that stuff on the bed. I'll put it up."
Maggie was shocked. "You... want us just to leave it?"
"Yeah," he said, plopping down in a chair. "With everything that's happened today and all... I just want to be alone."
Arturo cast Maggie a look and the two of them headed for the door. Before leaving, Maggie looked over her shoulder and said something she knew she was going to regret later. "Are you okay?"
Donner simply nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Have a nice night."
Maggie gave him a soft grin and left him there. Maybe people on this world weren't as cold and unfeeling as she thought.
-----
Quinn was laying in his bed and moaning as Wade entered. She glanced at Rembrandt quizzically. "He alright?"
"Seasick," Rembrandt smiled.
Lighting flashed outside. "I can see why," she replied. "I think we should be heading back to land. Who's with me?"
"Girl," Rembrandt began, "we're probably a hundred miles out by now, and with this storm blowing up like it is, it's probably best just to hold position and wait."
"Remmy and his naval wisdom," she laughed. "What time is it?"
"About three minutes 'til midnight," he told her. "Why, can't you..."
Maggie suddenly burst in. "We've got a problem," she began.
-----
Apollo gently draped a sheet over Dan Pratt's body. "He looks so peaceful," Jessi whispered.
Jayelle returned from the bridge. "I called the coast guard," she stated. They told us to hold position and they'd come meet us."
"How long?" Apollo asked.
"An hour and a half," she answered.
Arturo had examined the body when they had found him sitting in front of a television watching some Brooke Shields sit-com. "He appears to have suffered a heart attack," he'd told the others.
"That's not much of a shock," Donner chimed in. "You ever see that vein in his forehead? It was throbbing like a subwoofer!"
"Well, Mr. Donner's eloquent post mortem analysis aside," Arturo growled, "I would say that the stress of the shoot and Mr. Perrison's death was just too much for him."
Wade poked Quinn in his side. "Notice who isn't here?" she whispered. "Our friends, Seth and Angie!"
"Wade, surely you can't think that they caused his heart attack."
"He could have been poisoned!"
Jessica had been listening to what Wade had said. "Alright, people," she erupted, "I don't care how much ANYONE wants this damn movie finished! You can do it without me!" She stormed off to her cabin.
"Jessica!" Jayelle called after her.
"Forget it!" the reply came back. "I QUIT!"
"Okay," Jayelle said, turning back to the group and taking a couple of deep breaths. "Until further notice, I'm the new director."
"New director!?" Trez shouted. "Are you absolutely out of your skull!?"
"Maybe I am," she admitted. "But it's my job to see this movie gets finished. You cannot discount the fact that Dan wanted this movie to be completed.... Hell, it was the last thing we heard him talk about!"
"Yeah," Donner added, "just like him to leave something unfinished."
"No one's laughing, Don," Jayelle snapped.
"Okay," Jessi began, "let's be realistic here for just one little moment, shall we? Let's say we go along and finish the movie.... In case you missed it, Jessica just quit and, call me crazy, but I don't think she's coming back. Something about two deaths has really rattled her cage!"
Jayelle thought about that before putting a hand around Wade's shoulder. "You're about Jessica's height," she began. "How would you like to take over her part."
"Me?" Wade asked in disbelief.
"Why not?" Carey continued. "We've only shot a couple of scenes with Jessica anyway, and it shouldn't be too hard to re-shoot them with you."
"B- But... I don't have any acting experience."
"You ever seen Jessica act? Neither did she."
"Look," Wade said, stepping away from her. "I really have to think about this. I mean... I have to... me and my friends have to leave town in two weeks."
"You have a small part," Jayelle said, trying to coax her. "You'll be done in five days. That, and I'll pay you a thousand dollars a day. Cash."
"Five thousand?" Wade repeated after doing a quick bit of math in her head. She looked at her friends. "Guys, that's a lot of money... I mean, we wouldn't have any cash flow problems for a long, long time!"
"Wade," Rembrandt said slowly, "we can't make this decision for you."
"To hell we can't!" Arturo yelled. "Miss Wells, this is not only inappropriate, but it is disrespectful to the deceased!"
"Max, it has to be her decision," Maggie said, holding him back.
Jayelle was waiting for a response. "Well?"
"I'll have to think about it," Wade told her.
She nodded. "Fair enough. I'll see you all in the ballroom first thing tomorrow morning."
Jessi, Jayelle, Donner, Apollo, Trez, and the sliders filtered out of the room. "Nothing good will come of this," Arturo whispered to Jayelle on the way out.
"Professor Arturo," she responded, "I seriously, seriously hope that you are wrong."
-----
"What are you doing up here?" Apollo asked, shielding his eyes from the rain.
Arturo looked up from examining the ruined lifeboat that had led to Perrison's death. "Testing a theory," he said.
"What theory?"
"I don't believe that Mr. Perrison or Mr. Pratt's deaths were an accident."
Apollo was intrigued. "You mean... you think they were murdered."
"Not anymore," the professor told him.
"That's a relief, Professor," Apollo said, holding his chest and laughing. "For a second there, I thought..."
"I know they were murdered now," Arturo interrupted him. "Look at the fractures in the wood. They're too precise... too clean. This lifeboat was purposely weakened by someone."
"Who?"
"That's the mystery, isn't it, my friend?"
-----
Arturo and Apollo reported their findings to Captain Muldowney. "You're certain, Mr. Arturo?"
"Quite certain, sir," the professor responded. "I have concrete proof that Perrison was murdered, and I have good reason to believe that Mr. Pratt was murdered as well."
"How?" Muldowney asked.
"Well," Apollo began, "I think you should check the body for burn marks."
Captain Muldowney cocked his head as lightning flashed outside the bridge windows. "Burn marks?"
"Yeah," Apollo continued. "Since it'd be too obvious to have poisoned the guy, the killer might have given him an electrical shock right about here." He pointed to his chest. "It would have stopped his heart cold."
The captain soaked in that remark. "I see. You two make a veritable Sherlock Holmes and Watson. The Coast Guard should be here in less than an hour - you can report your findings to them. Until then, maybe you'd better tell everyone to stay in their cabins and lock the doors."
"Aren't you going to do something, Captain?" Arturo asked.
"I wish I could," Muldowney said. "But we've only got four people on the bridge and only two of them are useful in driving this thing. We're doing all we can to hold position." He looked over at Nicole and Liam. "You two could go below and search for anything suspicious."
Liam bristled. "I'm a cook, not a detective."
Nicole folded her hands together. "Look, I'm just the cruise director. I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't insisted I come along. I'm staying here where it's safe!"
Kevin Riley smirked. "The world's finest."
"I get paid to organize line-dancing and macerana contests," Nicole retorted, "not hunt down murderers." She paused. "Well, unless it's a murder-mystery dinner theater kind of thing. But I think that's a totally different situa--"
"Look," Liam interrupted. "If the killer guts someone, I'll clean it up... but I ain't about to go below and put my ass in jeopardy to stop the guy."
"Great," Muldowney said, "when we get back to port, you're both fired."
"There is a God!" Riley said, throwing his hands up to the air.
The bridge phone rang and Captain Muldowney answered it. "Bridge." He listened. "You'd better get down to Jason Donner's cabin," he said after hanging up. "There's been another murder."
Arturo and Apollo quickly left and Muldowney glanced over at Liam. "I believe you have a mess to clean up, Mr. Smith."
"I thought I was fired!" Liam whined.
"I changed my mind," the captain smirked. "It turns out that your services are irreplaceable."
-----
When Arturo and Apollo arrived, there was a loud commotion coming from Donner's cabin. "What's going on!?" Arturo demanded.
"Take a look for yourself," Rembrandt said, morbidly pointing to the cabin door.
Arturo glanced inside and quickly pulled away. "Good lord," he whispered.
"Who is it!?" Trez inquired.
"It's Jessica," Arturo told him. "Stabbed to death apparently. Where's Mr. Donner?"
"Bathroom," Jayelle answered. "He's pretty shook up."
"He might have done it himself!" Jessi said.
"He couldn't have," Maggie answered. "He's been with me since we found Pratt."
"What do you mean, 'he's been with you?'" Wade asked suspiciously.
"He wanted me to watch his boat movie and see what I thought was wrong with it," Maggie answered. "Wade, please get your mind out of the gutter."
Donner returned and looked as if he'd composed himself. "Are you alright?" Jayelle asked him.
"Yeah," he answered. "I guess Jessica isn't going to finish the movie after all."
"This is hardly the time to joke, sir," Arturo raged.
"It's my defense mechanism," Donner shot back.
"Some defense," Trez huffed. "You know, if I was the killer, I'd kill you next!"
Everyone looked at him.
"I said if," he quickly stated. "If!"
Much to Wade's surprise, Angie and Seth came out of Donner's cabin. "What are you two doing in there!?" Wade demanded.
"Looking for clues," Seth answered.
"Clues?" Quinn inquired.
"We weren't supposed to say anything, but the situation has changed," Angie replied. "I'm Detective Chandler, this is Detective Deaton of the SFPD." The two of them flashed police badges.
"You're cops!?" Jayelle exclaimed. "What are you doing on a movie set? What we needed were electrics!" She immediately regretted having said the last part, and snapped her mouth shut again.
"We received an anonymous report that this yacht contained large amounts of cocaine," Seth explained. "Detective Chandler and I were working undercover to learn if that was or was not the case."
"And..." Wade continued, adding it all up, "that's why you were snorting my make-up?"
"I wasn't snorting your make-up, Miss Wells," Seth replied. "I was tasting it. Cocaine has a distinctive taste that only a trained officer can recognize."
"Okay," Jayelle said, throwing her hands up. "Forget the fact that I consider your presence here a breech of unlawful search and seizure, I'm thankful we've got some actual cops on board. Now, what'd you two find out?"
"Well," Angie began, "it appears that Mr. Donner is the killer's intended target."
Donner swallowed hard. "Beg yer pardon?" he asked in a high-pitched voice.
"There was a message scrawled across the mirror in blood that said, 'You're next.' Since it was written in your cabin, I can only assume that you are the one whom the killer meant," replied Angie.
"I gotta sit down," Donner said, falling into a nearby chair.
"Do you have any idea who would want you dead, Mr. Donner?" Seth asked.
"Well, gee... where do I begin?" he replied. "Leonard DiCaprio's still steamed about me taking the Cameron project from him. OJ Simpson got pretty angry about that April Fools joke I pulled on him last year, but I don't think he'd hurt a fly," he paused. "I don't know... the last person who said anything about getting even with me was..." his eyes widened.
Jayelle finished his thought. "Of course! Melody Ortloff!"
"The writer!?" Jessi said. "That's a bit of a stretch."
"She did say that she would see all of you pay," Arturo added.
"No," Maggie said, "I believe her words were: 'I'll see all of YOU pay,' as in, she will see *all of us* pay."
"So Melody Ortloff is on the boat..." Apollo said aloud.
"Well," Angie offered, "either that or someone she hired is on the boat. Miss Carey, I suggest you tell the captain to make best speed to the Coast Guard's position."
"I'm not going up there by myself!" Jayelle protested. "What if Ortloff's waiting for me!?"
"Then let's all go up there together," Wade compromised. "After all, there is strength in numbers... right?"
"Tell that to the crew of the Titanic," Liam Smith mumbled as he walked past her with a mop and bucket. He opened the door to Donner's cabin and cringed. "I think I'm going to need another bottle of 'Mop-n-Glow'."
-----
The group made it to the bridge. Quinn tried to open the door, but it was locked.
"That's odd," Arturo said. "Why keep the bridge locked?"
Quinn peered through the windows. "Captain Muldowney?" He motioned for the others to stand away. "Stand back," he said, taking a few steps backwards and kicking the door in. "Cover your noses," he said quickly. "Don't breathe!"
Maggie kept everyone from running inside the bridge. "Smells like carbon monoxide," she said. "Probably from the engines."
"My God," Jessi whispered. "Captain Muldowney! Riley! Nicole! The entire crew... dead!"
"Asphyxiation," Angie revealed. "It looks like they were knocked out and locked inside."
"Look at this," Apollo said, pointing at the wall. "It's another message."
"What is that, red marker?" Wade asked.
Angie glanced down at Kevin's body. Unlike the others, his throat had been cut. "Blood," she told them.
"Soon, you will all know death's sweet embrace," Jayelle said, reading the grotesque message, "thanks to Davy Jones."
"Davy Jones?" Apollo echoed. "That's the killer I'm playing in the movie!"
"You mean to tell me that someone's running around the boat killing people, thinking that he's that lame 'Davy Jones' guy!?" Donner said in disbelief.
Quinn turned and looked at his friends. "Looks like someone's taken their love of scary movies one step too far."
Rembrandt had taken the wheel and was trying to maneuver the yacht. "Guys, we've got a problem."
"Gee, thanks for the news flash, Tom Brokaw!" Donner grumbled.
"What's the problem?" Wade asked.
"Wheel's dead," Rembrandt answered. "So's most of the equipment." He looked at the others. "We're going full speed ahead, but who knows where the hell we're going!"
Jayelle produced a spherical key chain... a compass. "We're heading west."
"Out into the middle of the Pacific," Arturo added. "Is there any way to turn the ship around, Rembrandt?"
"Yeah," he replied, "I can go below and turn the rudder manually." Rembrandt took Jayelle's key chain. "You mind if I borrow this?"
"Uh... no," she replied.
"You're not going by yourself," Maggie protested. "You may be Navy and this may be your area of expertise, but I'm Air Force and I can kick my fair share of ass if I have too."
Rembrandt grinned at the professor. "Well, who can argue with that?"
"I'll go with you too," Seth offered. "I went over every square inch of this ship before we left dock. I know where you need to go."
"Good, you're in," Maggie said.
"When did the killer have time to do this?" Arturo wondered aloud.
"We were all outside of Donner's cabin for quite a while," Apollo guessed. "She might have wiped them out between the time that janitor guy left the bridge to get all of his cleaning supplies and the time we got here."
"The janitor!" Angie exclaimed, thinking of Liam. "He might have done it! We have to go back below decks and find him!"
Rembrandt, Maggie, and Seth turned to leave on their mission to turn the ship around.
"What about us?" Jessi asked. "What if Ortloff tries to kill us?"
"Don't let her," Maggie suggested.
Quinn gave Maggie a stern look. "We'll meet in the ballroom. It's big and we should be able to see anything or anyone coming."
"Okay..." Rembrandt said, opening the bridge door. Rain and wind hammered inside. "We'll see you guys in a little while."
His group walked along the main deck to a maintenance hatch. "Are you sure that you know what you're doing?" Seth asked Rembrandt.
Rembrandt pulled the hatch open for him. "I think I know almost exactly what I'm doing."
-----
Liam groaned as he mopped up the pool of blood in Donner's cabin. "I hate my job, I hate my job, I hate my job..." he said with every pass of the mop.
There was a noise and he looked up. "Hello?" he called.
A dark shadow stepped into the doorway. A large figure with seaweed dripping off of him stood there starring at Liam. "Oh, that's cute, Riley... where'd you get that? Wal-Mart have a sale on lame Halloween costumes? Now, go away... I'm busy."
The figure moved slowly into the room, a wave of low fog followed it. "Hey," Liam grinned, looking at the fog rolling in, "that's pretty cool. How'd you do it? Dry ice? Fog machine?"
The specter grabbed Liam by the throat and shoved him into the wall. "All right!" Liam gagged. "If you don't want to tell me... be that way!"
-----
Quinn, Wade, Arturo, Jayelle, Donner, Trez, Jessi, and Apollo made their way across the deck to the door leading to the passenger area. "I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm scared," Jessi complained. "This was way not in my contract!"
"Calm down, Miss Parker," Arturo said softly. "Nothing bad will happen if we..." He saw something and shouted. "LOOK OUT, MR. DONNER!"
Donner whirled around to see a heavy pulley falling towards him from the upper deck. He jumped out of the way and the pulley crashed into a few forgotten key lights. Suddenly, there was a scream and everyone on deck noticed that the group was short one cop.
"Where's Detective Chandler!?" Arturo called out over the wind and rain.
The group looked around. "I don't see her," Jayelle called back.
"I heard a scream," Quinn realized. "She must have gone over the side."
Wade looked out over what she could see of the churning ocean. "We have to go after her!!"
"Miss Wells," Arturo said, catching her by the arm. "We have no control over the boat and anyone caught up in that maelstrom could not survive, much less make it back to the ship!"
"So we're just going to leave her?" she shot back.
Arturo nodded. "As cold as it sounds, we have no choice."
"Of course we have a choice!" Wade argued.
"Oh no we don't," Apollo said, pointing over the side. A giant fin appeared in the water which was becoming redder and redder.
"Great white," Arturo told them, looking away from the beast in the water.
"How'd she fall over?" Jessi cried.
"I don't know," Apollo replied. "But she might not have fallen. There's a good chance that she was pushed."
"Good point," Arturo confirmed. "If one of you is the killer, this would have been the perfect opportunity to have gotten rid of one of us. All of us were preoccupied with the attempt on Mr. Donner's life."
"Well," Donner said, clearing his throat nervously, "at least we know I didn't do it."
"What do you mean 'one of you'?" Jessi asked after a second.
"We'd better get inside," Trez suggested. "Hopefully it's safer."
"On this ship," Wade said, "I don't think anywhere is safe!"
They got inside out of the rain and stopped just outside of Donner's cabin. Jayelle shrieked.
"What!?" Donner said, jumping at the shrill pitch.
"L-Look!" she gasped, frantically pointing into the room. Liam was on the floor. A bottle of 'Mop-n-Glow' had been shoved into his mouth and down his throat. The handle of the mop protruded from his midsection.
"Oh, Jesus!" Trez exclaimed.
"Come on," Quinn said, pushing them down the hall towards the ballroom. "We've got to get to an open space, now."
-----
Maggie groaned as she jumped onto the bottom deck of the boat and into waist-deep water. "Someone must have left a hatch open," Rembrandt observed.
"Probably on purpose," Seth figured. "Whoever's behind this is smart. That much is certain."
"How much further to the rudders?" Rembrandt asked.
Seth pointed down the passageway. It was less luxurious than the passenger decks with pipes lining the walls and ceiling. It was also dark and the only light that entered the hall was distorted by the water, and it created eerie patterns on all surfaces. "About fifty meters down that passage."
"I see the metric system caught on in this world," Maggie mumbled.
"Hmm?" Seth replied.
"Nothing," Maggie answered. "Let's take it slowly. We don't want any sur--" Something splashed in front of her and she yelped and jumped backwards. "What the hell was that?"
"Fish," Rembrandt told her, pointing at the creature swimming peacefully in front of them.
"How the hell did a fish get in here?"
"Probably washed in with a wave," Rembrandt explained. "You'd be surprised where them little devils'd end up."
The three of them walked down the hall, the cold, salty water lapping at their waists. Finally, they reached a steel door. "Rudder's through there," Seth explained, opening the door.
The room was pitch black. "No power," Maggie said, trying the light switch. She looked around the room. "Alright, Rembrandt, how do we control the rudder from here?"
Rembrandt dropped to his knees. "Most of these small ships have a crank you can turn," he explained, feeling around in the water. "All we have to do is find it and..." He jumped up and screamed.
"What is it!?" Seth asked, pulling his gun.
Rembrandt shook water off of his hands in frustration. "It was that damned fish again! I swear, when we get out of this, I'm gonna filet the sucker!"
He dropped on his knees again and felt around the floor. Finally he smiled. "Found it." He then handed the compass key chain to Maggie. "Here, tell me when we're going East." He started cranking the device to the left.
"Okay, we're going West."
Rembrandt cranked some more.
"Southwest... South... Southeast.... East! You did it!"
Rembrandt stopped cranking. And sat and relaxed, despite being up to his shoulders in water.
"Wait a second," Maggie said. "We're going Northeast now!"
Rembrandt turned the crank to the right.
"West," Maggie told him. "No, wait... Now we're going southeast."
"The storm must be throwing us off course," Seth figured.
"Great," Rembrandt huffed. "We're going to be down here until we hit the coast or at least something west of us."
"West," Maggie announced.
"Keep an eye on that compass, Captain," Rembrandt warned. "If we get off course - assuming we're not off course already - we're never going to get through this storm alive."
A flash of lightning flickered through the corridor as if to dramatize his words.
-----
Arturo jiggled the handle to the ballroom door. "The blasted thing is locked," he announced. "Is there another way in?"
"Yeah," Jessi announced. "Through here," she said, walking into an adjoining room. "I think there's another entry in here."
Before any of the others could follow, the door slammed shut as the ship hit a wave. Quinn and the others were thrown against the wall. Quickly, he got up and tried to open the door. "Jessi?" he called through the door.
There was no answer. "Jessi?" Jayelle called after him. "Jessi, the door's locked. Come on, open up!"
Quinn pounded on the door. "Jessi?"
Wade touched his arm and he noticed that she was backing away slowly, looking at something on the floor. He looked down and saw blood dripping out from the bottom of the door. "The killer!" he whispered hoarsely. "Oh my god, he got her!"
"Jessi!" Apollo screamed.
"JESSI!" Jayelle's horrified yell cut through the air. She pounded the door.
"Come on, we gotta get out of here!" Trez pleaded.
Wade shook her head frantically. "But Jessi..."
"...is dead!" Trez said, starting down the hall. "And if we don't get out of here, we're going to be dead too!"
"Come on, Miss Wells," Arturo said softly, leading her down the corridor with everyone else in their diminishing group. "There's nothing we can do to help her."
Quinn grabbed Jayelle's arm and pulled her along as well.
They took an adjoining corridor which circled around the main ballroom and into the corridor connecting with the passenger cabins.
Suddenly, a door erupted open and a seaweed-encrusted hand grabbed Trez by the neck and pulled him into a cabin. "Help me!" he screamed.
The door slammed shut and clicked as the lock fell into place. The others could do nothing but listen to Trez's screams as he was murdered. "He's picking us off one-by-one!" Donner cried.
They ran down the corridor. "How the devil did he get over here so quickly!?" Arturo asked aloud.
"The room he killed Jessi in must adjoin with that room!" Jayelle explained as they reached the ballroom door.
"He never seemed to be bothered by locked doors before," Arturo said to himself.
Quinn tried the handle. "Yeah, but we have. It's locked!" he yelled.
"Like hell it is!" Apollo responded, kicking the metal doors open with a yell. He looked at the others and motioned for them to get inside. "Get to the center of the room!"
The remaining passengers ran to the center of the bare ballroom and finally took a rest. "Now what?" Wade asked. "What's the plan now?"
"Don't die," Quinn answered.
-----
"We're off course again," Maggie sighed.
Rembrandt turned the crank until she nodded. "That's got it."
"For about half a minute at least," Rembrandt responded, rubbing his shoulder. He looked at Seth. "Think you can take over for a second? I think my arm's about to fall off."
"I guess so," Seth replied. "You've only been doing this for about an hour."
"Oh," Rembrandt huffed, surrendering control of the rudder to Seth. "Is that all?"
"We're going North now," Maggie told him.
Seth began cranking. "I wonder how the others are doing."
-----
"I've gotta go," Apollo groaned.
"We can't," Jayelle whispered. "We can't leave until--"
"No," he replied. "I mean, I have to GO!"
"Oh!" she said. "Uh... there's a restroom over there. I think it's only got the one entrance."
"Yeah," Quinn said, "nobody could have gotten in there without us knowing it."
"Right... thanks," Apollo said, running to the restroom door. "Does, uh... anyone else need to go?"
"It's alright," Donner replied. "I already went on myself an hour ago."
"Understandable," Arturo mumbled.
-----
Apollo was washing his hands when he suddenly got a funny feeling he couldn't dismiss. It was the feeling that he wasn't alone. "Hello?" he called out in a shaky voice.
There wasn't an answer, but he still had the feeling that somebody was watching him. He got down on his hands and knees and peered under the bathroom stalls, gasping silently to himself when he saw a pair of feet.
He silently stood and grabbed the nearest weapon he could find - a toilet plunger. Apollo then kicked in the door and got ready to beat senseless whoever was relieving themselves.
"Whoa!" he yelped, jumping backwards. It was Melody Ortloff.... She was dead. Her throat had been cut.
Apollo took a shaky step foreword. *Wait a second,* he thought to himself. *If you're not the killer... then who is!?*
He threw the plunger aside and walked to the door. He had to tell the others about this new turn of events.
"What's wrong?" Wade asked him.
"Ortloff!" he gasped. "She's in there!"
Quinn jumped to his feet. "Then what are we waiting for!? Let's get her!"
"I don't think she's the killer, Quinn."
"Why not?"
"Because she's become a killee."
Donner cocked his head. "A what!?"
"A killee! A victim! A stain on the carpet, Donner!"
"Killee?" Donner smirked.
"Forget what she's called!" he erupted. "She's dead! She's deceased! She's no longer a functional member of society!"
"So what are you saying?" Donner asked.
"He's saying Melody Ortloff, our only suspect, has been murdered, you simpleton!" Arturo growled.
"Simpleton!?" Donner shrieked. "I'll have you know that I--"
"I DON'T CARE!!!" Arturo shot back.
"Guys?" Wade whispered. "Does anyone else hear that noise?"
"What noise?" Apollo asked from the far end of the room.
Jayelle listened. "Sounds like..."
"...a chainsaw," Quinn finished.
"Don't be stupid," Apollo laughed. "What would a chainsaw be doing on board?"
Before anyone could answer, the doors Seth had forced open were kicked in and a man, who could only be described as a zombie, covered in seaweed and slime, stood in front of Apollo, waving a chainsaw in the air.
"Oh my god!" Apollo screamed. "It's Davy Jones!"
Davy Jones swung the chainsaw at Apollo and decapitated him in one stroke.
Wade screamed in terror as his head bounced by her and the others.
"Now that's a guy who got a head in the world," Donner remarked. Everyone looked at him and he shrugged. "Sorry, it was just too easy."
Davy Jones revved the chainsaw and everyone turned their attention back to the specter.
"Okay," Arturo shouted. "I've had QUITE ENOUGH!"
Quinn looked down at Apollo's head. "Now he's had quite enough?" he said.
"This is the most sick and juvenile thing I've ever had the misfortune to witness, and I have witnessed plenty in my day." He pointed an angry finger at the killer. "Why don't you salvage one SHRED of decency and tell us who you really are!"
"I am DAVY JONES!!!" the killer said, revving the chainsaw.
"Of course you are," Arturo grumbled. "You're so lost and self-deluded that you really think you are that stupid movie monster!"
"He is NOT stupid!" the killer shot back. "He's the best since Freddy Kruger!"
"I take it from your voice that you're a woman," Arturo replied. "And unless I miss my guess, you're someone who we assumed to be dead. That leaves Angela Chandler or Jessi Parker and, since I am relatively sure that the unfortunate Detective Chandler could not have survived an attack by a great white..." he smiled triumphantly, "you're Jessi, aren't you?"
The killer's shoulders slumped. "You brainiacs really know how to ruin a good murder spree." The killer removed the elaborate mask. "So you were right, Mr. Arturo," Jessi replied. "That's right.... I did it!"
"Jessi?" Donner repeated in shock. "Why!? Why'd you do it!?" He paused. "It's about that whole weekend in Jamaica thing, isn't it?"
"Weekend in Jamaica?!" Jayelle echoed angrily.
"It has nothing to do with that," Jessi said quickly.
"You sure?" Donner asked. "I mean, I did tell you that you were my one and only and you seemed pretty steamed when I--"
"NO!" she repeated. "I'm over that!"
"Then why!?" Wade asked, wanting to know.
"Why does Picasso paint? Why does Van Goug sculpt?" Jessi asked. "It's all about art!"
"Art?" Quinn replied. "You're doing this to do some kind of an art thing? That's crazy!"
"Besides, Van Goug was another painter, not a sculptor," Arturo added.
"IT DOESN'T MATTER!!!" Jessi exploded, revving the chainsaw all the more. "All you need to know is that your death isn't going to be for nothing." She started to approach Quinn. "This is going to be sweeeeeet."
Suddenly, the boat was jarred by a collision, causing everyone to lose their footing and fall down. Jessi dropped the running chainsaw which hit the ground and began propelling itself towards Donner who screamed in terror before rolling out of the way, narrowly avoiding losing his manhood in the process. He breathed a sigh of relief before Apollo's head bounced into his lap.
"You okay?" Wade asked him.
Donner nodded and replied in a falsetto voice. "Yes," he said timidly, pushing the head out of his lap.
Jessi leaped to her feet and quickly noticed that she was without a weapon. "Oh, well, *this* is an annoying turn of events."
"Not from where we're standing!" Wade laughed. "Looks like Remmy and Maggie got us to shore."
"And then some," Donner said, picking himself off the ground.
"So now what?" Quinn asked. "We take her to the police, right?"
"Wrong," Jayelle replied.
"Wrong?" the others repeated.
Jayelle pulled out a gun and pointed it at Donner and the sliders. "Wrong," she said again.
"Jayelle?" Donner asked. "What are you doing? The killer is over there... point the gun over THERE!"
"You don't think I did all this by myself, do you?" Jessi laughed. "Jayelle's been my accomplice all along."
"Of course," Quinn whispered, turning his gaze upon Jayelle. "Jessi was with us when the crew was gassed, but you weren't! God, it's always the cute ones!"
"That, and the killer had free range of the ship until Rembrandt took Miss Carey's key chain," Arturo added.
Wade blinked. "You mean..."
"Yes," Arturo grinned. "I've suspected her the entire time."
"That's great, Professor," Wade replied. "But next time, why don't you tell us before your suspect has us all CORNERED WITH A GUN!?"
"There's just one thing I don't understand," Arturo said.
Donner looked at him in disbelief. "One thing?"
"...how did you kill Liam Smith?" Arturo continued. "You were both with us between the time we saw him alive and found him dead."
Jayelle gave Jessi a puzzled look. "Yeah, how did you do that?"
"It wasn't me," Jessi answered, "I thought you did it."
"Was it one of you?" Jayelle asked the sliders who simply shook their heads. "That's really weird, because I could have sworn it was you, Jessi."
Donner was tapping his foot. "Alright, Jay," he yelled interrupting the conversation. "I want to know what the hell's going on, and boy, do I mean now!"
"It was all for you, Donnie!" Jayelle replied.
"For me!?" he echoed. "Maybe I missed something... but why don't you enlighten me as to how splattering a boat load of people would benefit me!?"
"Come on, Don," Jayelle said, tickling his chin. "Your career's been in shambles ever since that whole Titanic debacle, and Jessi and I thought that this would be the perfect way to get it back on track."
"How!?" Wade quickly asked.
"Imagine it, Don," Jayelle said, kissing his mouth. "A killer runs amok on a ship where you're filming, and you and I are the only survivors."
"What do you mean him and you?" Jessi asked. "What about me?"
Jayelle grabbed a sting of seaweed off of Jessi's costume and quickly wrapped it around her neck. Jessi struggled and fought, but in the end she expired with a gurgle. Jayelle dropped her and allowed the body to fall to the ballroom floor.
"And what about you, my dear?" Jayelle asked. She looked at Donner. "Don't think I didn't know about your trip to Jamaica, my dear," she growled. "You said I was your only one!"
"I say that to a lot of women," Donner mumbled.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" Jayelle aimed her gun at his head.
"I said I made a mistake and you ARE my only one, baby," he said. "Give me some sugar, love."
Donner and Jayelle embraced. "This was a good idea, sweet cheeks," Donner whispered into her ear.
"Glad you liked it, snugglebumps."
"Okay," Quinn said, throwing his hands in the air. "If this mushy stuff continues, can you just kill us now and get it over with?"
Donner stepped backwards and Jayelle leveled her gun. "Good idea," she grinned. "We do need some scapegoats after all." Her grin disappeared. "Where the hell's the skinny broad?"
"Over here!" Wade yelled from the opposite wall.
"Trying to run, Wade?" Jayelle sneered. "You can't get away from me? Accept the cold embrace of death!"
Wade grabbed a nearby rope and pulled on it. "Why don't you accept the cold embrace of a stage light?"
Before Jayelle could say anything, a large, steel stage light crashed into her skull, killing her instantly. Donner yelped in fear but then steadied himself. "Nice work, babe."
"Thanks," Wade grinned. "I was hanging around when Quinn and Remmy were hanging these things, and saw that she was standing right under the back light."
"Thanks for letting me get out of the way, sweetheart," Donner grinned.
"So now what do we do?" Quinn asked.
"We call the damn cops!" Wade insisted, returning to Quinn's side.
Donner shook his head and aimed the gun at all the sliders. "Noooo," he sighed. "Sorry, but I've got to admit that my girl Jay did have a good idea. Imagine it... the lone survivor of a murder spree lives to tell his tale. I'll be bigger than ever! Oprah Winfrey! Jerry Springer! Danny Bonaduchi! They'll ALL want me!"
"You are absolutely out of your mind!" Arturo said.
"I'M out of MY mind!?" Donner said, innocently pointing to himself. "At least I didn't kill the entire crew of a movie, Mr. Arturo!" He pointed the gun at Arturo.
Then there was a gunshot and Quinn and Wade jumped in alarm. Arturo jumped as well and then wondered why getting shot didn't hurt as much as he thought such a thing would have. He looked at the gunman and noted the look of shock that had washed over his face.
Donner looked down and frowned at the growing bloodstain covering his chest. He turned around and grimaced at the doorway. "You!?"
Detective Seth Deaton's gun was still smoking. Rembrandt and Maggie stood behind him.
Donner looked at the massive wound in his midsection and dropped his gun. "This..." he coughed, "was my... favorite shirt!" Then he dropped to the ground, dead.
"Are you alright?" Seth asked them.
"We're fine now," Wade laughed.
"Man," Rembrandt sighed. "I never would've suspected that Donner was the killer."
"He wasn't..." Arturo revealed. "It was Jayelle Carey and Jessi Parker."
"Yeah," Maggie said. "But Donner was about to shoot you."
"It's a long story," Quinn remarked.
Seth looked around. "Are you all that's left? Where's Angie?"
"I'm sorry," Arturo said softly. "I'm afraid she didn't make it."
Seth nodded as he put his gun away. "I see... Well, she knew the risk when she signed up for the assignment. All I can say is that she was a good man." He blinked. "You know what I mean." He then cleared his throat. "You all will have to answer a few questions back in San Francisco when we get back."
The door to the ballroom opened and a thick white fog rushed in. "What the hell is that!?" Arturo said, pointing to the mist. "We must be close to San Francisco with all that fog rolling in."
"No," Seth said, stepping foreword, "there wasn't any fog when we walked across the upper decks. It was clear and--"
A spear erupted from Seth's back and the detective was lifted into the air. Then, an unseen hand threw Seth's body across the room.
Wade screamed and Maggie took up a defensive posture.
"It's the other killer," Arturo said. "The one who killed Liam Smith!"
"Who the hell are you!?" Maggie demanded.
"I BE THE GHOST OF CAP'N BLACKBEARD!" a demonic voice replied. "YOU HAVE DISTURBED MY REST..."
A man stepped out from the fogbank and limped towards them. He was covered with seaweed and was soaking wet. "...AND NOW, YOU MUST ACCEPT THE SWEET EMBRACE OF DEATH!!!"
Maggie picked up the gun Donner had dropped, and fired at Seth's killer. Chunks of seaweed flew as the bullets passed through the ghost.
The sliders backed away as the killer approached. "This..." Wade said, "is a little too much!"
-----
"That's a little too much!" Maggie laughed loudly, awakening Wade from her deep sleep. She looked over and saw Quinn, Maggie, Rembrandt, and the professor sitting around the television in their Dominion Hotel suite. On the television, a man was being eaten alive by a giant snake. "Quinn, this is terrible!" Maggie laughed, almost to the point of tears. "Why are we watching this?"
"It's no worse than that last movie," Quinn replied.
"What was wrong with the last movie?" Maggie asked.
Quinn smirked. "It was just an unnecessary sequel with bad characters... I mean, that Derek guy was obviously from the shallow end of the gene pool to let himself get tied to a cross like that."
Maggie scoffed "And what about little miss get-choked-between-Jon-Vought's-legs?"
Quinn looked over and noticed Wade was awake. "Hey, sleeping beauty. Happy Halloween."
Wade smiled. "You guys've been watching horror movies all night?" she asked sleepily.
"Yeah," Rembrandt laughed, throwing a piece of popcorn up in the air and catching it in his mouth. "The professor screamed during 'Event Horizon.'"
"I did not scream," Arturo protested. "I was startled. There is a difference." He looked at Wade. "Are you alright, my dear?"
Wade nodded. "I just had the weirdest dream," she said, standing and stretching. "We were--" The phone rang. "I'll get it," she said, walking to the telephone.
She picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hello?" came the reply.
"Yes?" she answered.
"Who is this?"
"You dialed the phone. Don't you know?"
"What number is this?"
Wade sighed. "What number are you trying to reach?"
A woman in the movie the others' were watching screamed. "What's that noise?" the man on the phone asked.
"Oh," Wade smiled. "It's just some scary movie."
"Do you like scary movies?"
"Yeah," Wade answered, becoming impatient. "But, if you don't mind, I have to go. Hope you can find who you were looking for."
"Don't hang up on me!" the voice warned.
"Excuse me?" Wade asked.
"You hang up on me and I'll cut you like a fish!"
Wade slammed the phone down. "You're not going to believe this!" she said to the others. "This guy on the phone, he--"
A man in a black robe and white mask crashed through the window and ran towards Wade with a knife in his hand, when suddenly...
-----
Maggie awoke with a start. She'd fallen asleep sometime during 'Friday the Thirtieth: Part Seven' for obvious reasons.
"Hey, Captain Beckett," Rembrandt smiled. "You have a good nap?"
"Kind of," she admitted. "I had the weirdest dream."
"What about?" Wade asked.
"Well," she began. "It was so odd. I dreamt that Wade dreamed that we were all on a movie set on a boat lost in the Pacific Ocean, and there was this killer and that guy from that earth where we were all on a TV show." She thought about it for a second. "There was a guy named Apollo and two detectives that were sniffing Wade's make-up, and a director who died watching 'Suddenly Susan.' And then there was this wacked out producer that Quinn had a thing for, and she was actually a murderer and involved in some twisted love triangle with a movie star and Jason." She looked at the others. "It was weird, guys. Very... Scrappy-Doo."
"The subconscious is a weird place," Quinn told her, smiling.
"Yes," Arturo grinned. "Besides, if we were really under the influence
of such a motley crew, then God help us all!"
THE END