“I’m not following.”
“One of the fights was just because a fella looked at the other guy. The next thing you knew, they were puffed up and pushing each other, getting real red in the face. We no sooner broke that up and another started in the courtyard. Except these two guys were best friends.” The man glanced to the floor and shook his head. “I got one of them aside and asked what the hell and he seemed to calm down almost instant-like. He said he had no idea what happened or why he lost his temper.”
Hatcher slowly shook his head. “And you felt that this needed to be reported?”
“You said anything out of the ordinary, so…” The sentry trailed off.
Hatcher nodded as he came to his feet. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be sure and pass the word to the next watch to be on the lookout for—”
“Hatcher!” Roger yelled from outside the door. “We got a brawl!”
Hatcher watched Roger dart around the corner and he leaned to the side to peer through the glass window. He could see a group of men scuffling just outside the main lobby. “Like this?” He pointed.
The sentry came to his feet and fell into step behind him as he marched through the main lobby. He stood aside as two sentries pulled a man from another and two other men separated another pair.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Hatcher barked.
The men who, just moments before, were wide eyed and ready for blood seemed to deflate, their anger dissipating. Roger pulled one of the scuffling men aside. “The man asked you a question. What were you fighting about?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t…I can’t remember.” He glanced to the other man, whom he’d been trading blows with, and he seemed just as surprised.
“You’re telling me that the four of you were going at it over…nothing?” Hatcher planted his hands on his hips and glared at the men. “No reason. You just felt like starting a fight club?”
The men slowly lowered their eyes and shook their head. Roger pushed the man he held toward the hall. “At the risk of sounding like a parent, go to your room and think about what the hell you were doing.”
Hatcher turned and raised a brow at him. “If you say, ‘just wait til your father gets home’ I’m taking away your man card.”
Roger gave him a sour look. “It’s not like we have a jail set up or a drunk tank we can stuff them in.”
“I want to know what triggered this,” Hatcher stated loudly. He looked to the remaining men. “Somebody better start explaining.”
One of the men looked up and gave him a sheepish smile. “I honestly can’t say, sir.” He glanced at the man he had been fighting with. “It was just like…something snapped. On the inside.”
The other man nodded. “It was like I suddenly was filled with rage and he was the closest thing.” He gave the other man a nod. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what came over me.”
Hatcher groaned and tilted his head back, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “Take them to Vic. Have her give them the once over.”
“What are you thinking?” Roger asked.
“Maybe this is a side effect of the ‘cure’ that we didn’t know about.” Hatcher shrugged. “Or maybe we’ve just been locked up behind these fences for too long.”
Roger motioned the men toward the hallway. “You head the man. Infirmary.”
Hatcher watched as the men marched down the hallway then turned back to the sentry. “I’m guessing this is what you were talking about.”
The man nodded, his face sullen. “If we start turning on ourselves…”
“Don’t worry.” Hatcher gripped the man’s shoulder. “If a real threat came along, I’m sure they’d have snapped out of it and redirected their anger to the bad guys.”
The sentry gave him a blank stare. “I hope you’re right.” He turned and made his way toward his own room.
Hatcher watched the people depart and rubbed at his neck. “Great.” He swallowed and grimaced. “Now I’ve got this shit, too.”
Dr. McAlester opened the door to his bathroom and winced at the smell. He hadn’t realized that the man he’d clubbed to death had soiled himself, but the smell now was overwhelming in such tight quarters.
He dragged the body from the shower and noted that rigor had set in. “Great.” He stood back and stared at his victim. “I either get to bunk with Captain Shitty Britches or risk dumping him and hope they don’t realize that he’s already stiffened up.”
Kevin collapsed onto the narrow mattress and wiped a hand across his face as he tried to imagine what to do next.
He stared at the hammer still sitting on the shelf and the body sprawled out on his floor. Without thinking, he stood and wiped off the handle of the hammer and dropped it to the floor. He left the dead sailor half in the doorway to his bathroom and stepped back.
“No time like the present.” He turned and pulled open the door to his stateroom and stepped into the hallway. “Help!” he cried out as loudly as he could. “I need a medic over here!”
Seeing nobody rushing to the scene he trotted down the short hallway and peered around the corner. He yelled again and a man in uniform stepped around the corner. “Get the medic, quickly! There’s a hurt man in my stateroom!”
Kevin watched as the soldier disappeared and when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching he turned on his best acting skills. He waved the men toward him then darted toward his cabin. “He’s in here on the floor.”
Kevin stepped aside and held the door open as men poured into his private space. They quickly approached the fallen man and attempted CPR while Kevin looked on, knowing full well that they were wasting their time.
An older man entered the room carrying a canvas bag and did a double take. “Oh shit. He’s been dead
