She sat and stretched, not that stretching was doing anything to alleviate the aches and pains, or pins and needles in her foot.
The cabin was pitch black as per usual, one of the many perks that came with a cheaper windowless option, so time was impossible to determine without checking her phone.
11:13, they had slept in late again, she thought as the bright screen from her phone filled the cabin with light. Her throat was parched and she had no desire to lay back down on that uncomfortable floor and stare aimlessly into the darkness, so instead she decided to use the excuse of buying a few bottles of water and snacks just to escape and go for a walk.
They were getting closer to the Caribbean now, it would be getting a great deal warmer outside soon and what an exciting premise that was.
Having put on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, whilst recovering from banging her toe on the side of the small table, a pain that anyone who knew it could agree was one of the worst pains in the world, she slipped on her shoes and stepped outside, yawning as she did so.
The corridor was brimming with light, artificial light, but light nonetheless.
She made her way down the corridor towards the stairs and descended to the floor with the shops. There didn’t appear to be as many people hustling and bustling about as usual days, was something going on?
As she made her way towards one of many small shopping areas aboard the ship, it became all too clear why there were so few people around, the TVs screens mounted on the walls, usually there for the sole purpose of advertising and information relative to the ship, cruise destinations and occasionally big sporting events, talent shows and more, were now all tuned into one thing, the news, with crowds huddled around each one. At the bottom of the screens were the bold text reading “Breaking news!: Possible terror attack in London”.
“What the fuck?” Lori murmured and approached one of the closest screens.
She had to squeeze through crowds to get close enough to see anything.
Earwigging those around, she managed to ascertain that this had been happening since 8 this morning, so 3 full hours had already passed and new reports still didn’t seem to have any clearer depiction of events.
Scrolling beneath the breaking news was a report that a helicopter had been mysteriously downed, on board were reporter Ellie Branning, cameraman Zachary Lincoln and pilot Steve Phillips. The chaos seemingly began at South Kensington and spread quicker than emergency services, special police forces and containment and evacuation unit teams could handle. This seemed to be multiple attacks in different locations, or something spiralling out of control from South Kensington, but what and who could answer that question if not the news?
It didn't help that the rumour mill was in full swing, churning out all manner of wild stories, with some suggesting that something large had lunged towards the helicopter, whilst others speculated that it was someone jumping from a building. So much chatter and no clear indication of what was happening; clips on the news of people fleeing, but fleeing from what? Did she want to know?
Then she saw it, humans mauling humans, quite literally chasing down one another, pinning them to the ground and ripping them to shreds. If this wasn’t primetime and on the news, she’d think it was a movie or at the very least the filming of a movie. One man was tackled through a shop window by two others, a woman and child were dragged screaming from their cars, people were falling through the top windows of double-decker buses, blood splatter covered grounds, corpses littered the streets, shops burned, and police were firing bullets almost indiscriminately.
“What… the… fuck…” Lori repeated, covering her mouth just like those around her who could bear to watch.
Lori stood there staring at the screen for at least twenty to thirty minutes, surrounded by the gasps and weeping of onlookers, trying to comprehend and process what she was witnessing in her home capital, all the while pinching herself to clarify it wasn’t a dream. When she had finally convinced herself that she wasn’t still asleep, she decided it best to return to her girlfriend and inform her of the news.
She opened the cabin door to find the lights on, Rachel’s father sitting up in the bed rubbing his eyes and the bathroom door closed.
“Something is going on in London!” She declared.
Edward looked up at her bemused, he didn’t appear to be fully awake, and so she repeated herself. “Something is happening in London, a terrorist attack or something”.
“What?” He replied, stunned by the suddenness of her news.
“I went to get water and snacks and everyone was huddled around every TV screen on the ship and every single one of those screens are tuned into the news, you can go have a look for yourself”.
“Slow down, slow down, what’s happening exactly?”
“I wish I knew. A helicopter was brought down by something or someone, people are running, whatever it is, is spreading across London fast. There was blood, debris, shooting, dead people… fuck!” She shouted, holding her head with both hands.
“A terror attack? Do they know which part of London? Who may be responsible?”
“I think that’s just what they are calling it, but that shit didn’t look like any terror attack I’d ever seen. I saw people literally… mauling each other like feral animals”.
Edward stared up at her in disbelief. The bathroom door clicked open and Rachel stepped out in a towel and toothbrush in hand.
“Mauling each other?” She asked.
“Yes, mauling each other! Literally ripping each other to shreds
