Rain fell from the gunmetal sky to the grey concrete surrounding the swimming pool on the lido deck. White recliners scattered about the deck, wind-blown and abandoned. The water of the swimming pool frothed like the sea in a storm, lapping gently over the edges. The wind was cold and wet and miserable and not one sound floated on its fringes. Then, a voice, crackling with static, shouting from the ship's intercom. Trent didn't budge. He laid face-down on the pool deck, head sheltered beneath a round white table with a folded umbrella. His left leg twitched as the banks of the pool overflowed and brushed up against him. Chlorine wafted past his nostrils.
"<Get Up.>" The voice was bass and rumbling, like an earthquake.
Only Trent heard it, as only Trent heard all of Saint Jimmy's voice. Trent stirred, his eyes still closed and his body intent on sleeping. He groaned and covered his head with an arm to block out the grey light of the day.
"<I said get up. We're not safe here.>" the voice spoke again. Trent grumbled and pushed himself onto his hands.
"What do you mean we're not sa-" Trent raised his head, blinking in the light, and bashed his head against the rim of the table. He recoiled and covered his head with his arms. "Fuck." Trent looked bleary-eyed through the crook of his elbow; he could see a concrete deck, and past that a railing and a placid green sea blending into the sky. Something was very wrong— this was not home or anywhere else he'd seen. Trent rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows. His legs were wet, but the rest of him had been shielded. Instinctually, he looked to his left; previously, Trent had slept on his bed and Fin in an old sleeping bag Trent took from his dad's closet.
Fin...where were they? What were they? Where was here...
"<Now is not the time to ask questions. Get up; we need to get off of this ship, now."> "We're on a ship..." Trent said. "Any idea how we got here?"
"<Jack shit nothing. Obviously supernatural. No apparitions around...wait, two. One's close. Be on your guard.>" Rubbing his still-throbbing head, Trent stood up and looked about the pool deck.
"I don't recognize any of this," Trent said out loud. He walked around the large square pool, past beach chair after beach chair to the railing that looked down to a lower deck. Several large lifeboats hung off the edge of the ship. In front of one, a small crowd stood, all teenagers, though most of them older than Trent. One of them, Trent knew, was an apparition; he could feel it, like a vague shimmer— seen, but not registered by the eyes. It was as much a feeling as a sense.
"<Careful,>" Jimmy said.
"<There's a ghost.>" "They're the only other people we can see on this ship," Trent replied out loud. "Looks like they're trying to get off the ship too." Trent looked to the end of the railing; a metal staircase led down to the lifeboat deck. He walked towards it and began to descend.
"<I hate it when you don't listen,>" Jimmy muttered. Trent shrugged. He focused on his third eye as he walked; the apparition before him was definitely in the body of one of those teenagers, like Fin before. The other...it was far away, up in a higher section of the ship. He couldn't tell what it was, but it wasn't moving towards him. Sometimes, spirits would just pass through Trent's aura sense without meaning to.
Trent slipped as he reached the bottom stair, catching himself on a handrail before he could fall. His eyes darted towards the teenagers before him— they'd be aware of his presence now. He stood in awkward, stunned silence. One of them, the apparition he'd sensed, it was definitely Finley.
"Fin?" Trent called out?
"<Oh, this one again,>" Saint Jimmy grumbled.
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Evil Ghost Note
