The Nightmare Catcher ch 4

Carrie was sitting on a comfortable bed, waiting while Geneva was in the cabin's small kitchen, preparing something in a bowl. Carrie subconsciously put a hand on her bandaged leg, trying to soothe the pain that was trickling throughout her wound while she laid one of the cabin's beds. The injury was external, no bones or strings were broken, which according to Geneva was all thanks to her red and black tights. They'd prevented the Piranha-Sharks from eating her whole. They didn't like the red color.

Ugh! She hated having to depend on other people. It made her feel so helpless. Carrie sincerely hoped she would not be a cripple forever and that she could use her left hand when it was healed. Like her leg, her hand was bandaged, but more lightly since it was only a small wound on her palm.

Clutching the blanket Geneva had given her to warm herself; she got slowly and unsteadily to her feet and took a tour around the room. The design was more or less different from ordinary sailing boats. Where she was now would be the living room. It was a big room with two chairs and a table in the middle and a small kitchenette in the corner. She saw another door, which probably lead to a bigger bedroom or a bathroom. The last door was the main door, which they'd come in from. It wasn't a cruise-ship but it was big enough to fit a small group of people in.

She started to relax when she couldn't find any immediate signs of any insidious trap. But her anxieties were still on her shoulders. She didn't have her sketchbook in her hands. Usually she carried it all the time under her arm or in her bag. There was no one who prevented her (except perhaps during school lessons) start to make a new picture wherever and whenever she wanted. She never realized how much it had really calmed her when she got one of her "ideas" or "attacks", it helped her to relax and it was a good compromise from the other things she had done before.

Carrie froze…"What things?"

Oh never mind…her mind and her fingers begged for a piece of paper and a pen, it didn't matter what quality it were, she needed it!

"You need to be careful or the wound will open up again and bleed through the bandage," Geneva said as she came back from the kitchen. Carrie brushed her damp locks of hair from her face and looked at her hostess, who just prepared her a cup of something wet and green.

"Do you have a name?" Geneva asked casually as she handed the cup to Carrie. Carrie didn`t sense any threat from this woman, but she still kept her distance. Carrie glanced suspiciously at the green substance in the cup.

"Do you have a piece of paper and pen?"

"What for?" Geneva wondered.

"…It helps me to relax."

"No sorry, we haven't checked out the place properly, this boat is new. But I think this will calm you down," Geneva smiled and handed the cup to her.

Carefully Carrie took the cup with her hands and took a small sip. The taste she felt was some kind of mixture of cinnamon and sea leaf. Strange but warm! Then she remembered that her hostess just asked her name.

"Carrie" she said in a wary, but polite tone. "Carrie Rayon."

"My name is Geneva Peachtree, one of the sailors of Lud Limbo. The man with the horns, who you asked if he had eaten chilipeppers, is Mischief John and his brothers. Mcbean is the man in the wheelhouse who is my boss. But actually it's Malingo who's the captain of this ship…"

"The creature with the orange face…" Carrie interrupted, avoiding looking into Geneva's eyes as she took another sip from her "tea". It felt good to have something warm in her stomach after been swimming in the cold water, but her fingers still longed for a pen or pencil.

Geneva studied her. Did all hereafter girls wear this strange kind of outfit, like this Carrie-girl? She herself would never wear shirts like that or so many earrings! But the sea-water had cleaned up all her makeup and after using the blanket to remove the rest, Carrie's face was blank and pale with very sharp contours; sharp cheekbones, sharp nose, thin lips and grey-blue eyes with light long eyebrows. But her eyes were to Geneva's surprise, calm and very steady. It was odd that Carrie was so calm, considering they'd just saved her from drowning and then introduced her to the crew, who had the kind of appearances she'd probably never laid her eyes on before.

"I think is best for you that you stay here. It's not safe out there while Wormwood is hunting us."

"Wormwood is the other boat...?"

"Precisely!"

"Why are they chasing you?" Carrie fixed her eyes again on Geneva.

"Lord Carrion and his cursed grandmother want Candy. It was them who caused the great flood, not us."

"Why do they want Candy?"

Geneva hesitated; she wasn't sure either of Candy's importance or why Carrion had gotten this fixed idea to capture her. She has caused some trouble for him, but she never harmed anyone.

"I don't know, but ever since she came to Abarat, nothing is the same. She's very special."

"Candy said that every hour is an Island. Which Island do you come from?" Carrie asked curiously.

"On the Isle of the Black Egg, which is 4 :00 a.m," Geneva replied. "It may not look like the most inviting of places. Four in the Morning is a dark time. The moon's gone down and the sun's nowhere near showing its face. But there's more to my island than darkness and death."

"Sounds like a lovely place to me." Carrie gave a small smile as she traced her long finger along the lines on the tables.

The world of Abarat sounded very appealing to Carrie's ears. As did living in a place where your wildest imagination exists. Her journal, which held her past, now lay deep in the ocean. No one knew who she was or could judge her from her background. She could leave this boring reality and start a new life in a whole new world.

But then she remembered her promise, a promise she would never break…for her. She hadn't prepared herself over all these years for nothing. She needed to stay in this world. Even she didn't want to. Damn! The tea had warmed her but it didn't calm her or remove her anxiety. She desperately needed a pen or anything to occupy her mind, as she was starting to get a headache and her vision was becoming blurred.

"By the way, the man who just yelled at you, the one with the dreadlocks, is Finnegan Hob and the small girl is…"

"You fear it?" Carrie suddenly asked.

"Fear what?"

"That ship? Are you afraid to get caught? I have seen its design. I would like to draw it!" Her tongue slipped before Carrie realized what she was saying. But this thought had just begun to tease her and she needed to know.

"Well…I certainly do not want to get caught and tortured. If they are in a good mood, they might give us a fast and almost painless death," Geneva replied, while she raised her right eyebrow at Carrie's weird question.

"But is that your biggest fear?"

"What?"

"Everybody has fears. Is Wormwood your biggest fear or it something else?" Carrie wanted to know.

Geneva looked at her up and down, clearly unsure whether this girl was being serious or not, or whether she was crazy? For the first time after she woke up, Carrie's eyes sparkled with her eagerness to hear the answer. No, Geneva thought, they were glowing. But still, the question confused Geneva. Why did Carrie want to know her fears?

"Are you serious?"

Seeing Geneva's confused face, Carrie woke up from her trance. "No this is a bad idea! Very bad idea!" Carrie shook her head, trying to remove this sudden and weird obsession.

"Forget what I said, it's just… if I don't have a pen in my hand, I can't relax! Drawing helps me relax or I lose control over myself and may say…stupid things…"

Her muscles suddenly tensed up and her hands started to tremble, fuelled by the upcoming migraine. Damn, it had been a long time since she had her last "attack". The wave, saving herself from drowning in the sinking car, the Piranha-Sharks who had tried to eat her, this strange ship and even its even stranger crew were driving her to the edge of insanity! She was used to having everything under control and now she didn't. She needed to draw!

Geneva was speechless at the sight she saw before her, the girl's hands were shaking and her eyes were glancing at her surroundings, rapidly shifting focus. Did she have some kind of an epileptic disease? Or was it the shock changing into stress or depression? Geneva thought that was most probable.

"…Please…give me something I can draw with…"

Geneva scanned the room. She checked in the lockers and cabinets, until she finally found a small soft pencil and handed it over to Carrie. Holding this blessed thing in her long fingers, Carrie gave a long sigh, as if she'd just taken a long smoke from a cigarette she hadn't used in a long time. Having no paper in sight, Carrie started to draw on the wood of a table. The pen swept fast over the sanded planks, creating first long lines, then some shadows and spots joined her picture.

"It helps me cool off. Most of the time or when I'm just..." She trailed off, not wanting to continue with that sentence when her mind was occupied with her new creation.

"She`s weird..." Geneva thought.

Suddenly she heard a large explosion and the next thing happened very fast. Something hit the ship, followed by a great tumult of screams over their heads. The cabin rumbled as dust fell from the ceiling. Geneva ran to the window and looked outside to see the Wormwood's cannons just beside their window.

Quickly Geneva grabbed Carrie's arm and dragged her up from the chair and forced her down on the bed. Carrie glared, irritated at her for touching her without permission and for interrupting her drawing time. But then she heard the screams and howling from outside and she stared up to the ceiling. Carrie had not noticed until now that they were under attack.

"Lock the door after me! Do not open if for any reason until I come back and tell you that the danger has passed," Geneva shouted as she rushed out to join her crew-mates.

Soon Carrie felt the ship jerk harshly again as Wormwood came alongside the Lud Limbo. For what seemed like an eternity, the only sounds that could be heard was shouting, gunfire, and the sickening echo of screams and wicked laughing.

Curious, Carrie got up from the bed and headed towards the door where Geneva just left. She twisted the knob and it creaked open. She gathered her effects, and tiptoed up the stairs to the deck. Then she pushed the next doorknob to open the main door and chanced a glimpse out. What she saw was a scene of chaos and bloodshed.

They were not humans, not remotely. Some were huge, some were small: like crazed crabs, with the head of a doll. But whatever their size and shape, they were all possessed by the same relentless rage. Carrie was what looked like a hybrid spider, with its legs decorated with coloured barbs and a woman set on its thorax. It was holding what it seemed to be the last remaining parts of a body.

Finnegan Hob was fighting with some huge giants who looked like twisted combinations of a bat and a bear. John Mischief and his brothers had clambered up into the rigging, where he stabbed at a triple-horned monstrosity, which swung from the foresail with its claws hooked into canvas and attacked the brothers with its venomous tail. Malingo, surrounded by several of Mater Motleys seamstresses was valiantly holding them back, whilst Geneva fought against a gigantic spider woman.

What caught Carrie's attention the most, was an old woman, dressed in what looked like a garment made of antiquated dolls. Screaming out orders to her fellow crewmembers, while gracefully dodging various attacks, and defending herself with a large needle. Even from this distance, this woman had an evil aura that Carrie had never felt from someone before. Unfortunately Carrie couldn't see Candy anywhere. She considered the possibilities that Candy was probably dead, captured or hiding somewhere.

Carrie closed the door before anyone saw her and headed back to the room. She sat down on the bed, struggling to collect her thoughts. Her nerves had calmed down and she was not shaking anymore. That was good, but another problem has just come up.

The crew was having a great battle just outside this cabin, defending themselves from a monster-attack. Carrie didn't even have the slightest idea what Candy had done in Abarat to piss off this Carrion, but whatever it was, it was big enough to make him bring along a gang of monsters to kill them all with! Carrie was hardly in any condition to fly out through the window and swim away because of her leg. The blood alone would attract those weird fishes and her splashing to stay afloat would do little to deter them. It was too late to try and hide, the cabin was too small and she did not have the tiniest chance of outrunning any of them if she decided to go outside.

Frankly, her chances of survival were… limited.

Carrie had a strange feeling in her stomach, that she had been tricked into to this, but right now there was no time to think about it. After pausing for a second, she searched through her pocket. She paused as the traced her finger over it, it wasn't the first time she would use this knife, but it was still sharp enough to give a quick hit to someone's eye or skin. She stuck it carefully under her left bracelet and covered it with her glove.

Then she checked out the whole cabin looking for some weapons or things that she could use. With a buffet of different knifes in the kitchen, she chose a sharp one and stuck it under her belt, behind her back. Noticing a broomstick in the corner, she grabbed and turned it around in her hands.

"Anything can be used as a weapon, provided you are willing to use it before your opponent."*

She had no sword or Japanese fighting skills, but at least she had a "diploma" in dirty fighting and some ATC moves learnt from an old friend back in Saint Paul. ATC the goal was simple: "You always went for the fastest way to cripple or kill your opponent before he could do the same to you."* That was the only rule and she liked it.

Looking back on her half finish drawing, she picked up her pencil and drew the last lines on her new masterpiece. She smiled peacefully as she looked at it.

If she was going die today, she would do it with style. Plus she considered herself in debt, and she always paid her debts.

One way or another.