Plague Ship by Leonard Goldberg

David approved.
    “I really hate them a lot.”
    “That’s because you’re smart.”
    They stepped into the crowded elevator and heard the wind howl behind them. Everybody in the elevator was complaining about the weather and how it was ruining the trip. A few were considering asking for a refund once they reached the Caribbean. The elevator moved sideways for a brief moment, and all the voices quieted abruptly. At the rear of the elevator, a woman made a retching sound. Everyone held their breath and hoped the woman wasn’t about to throw up. The elevator came to a stop and most of the passengers hurried out at the arcade level, relieved to be away from the confines of the swaying car.
    The elevator continued down, empty now except for David, Carolyn, and Kit. It seemed to wobble and vibrate as the strong wind outside continued to pound the luxury liner. David estimated it would take gusts of at least 35 knots per hour to make the Grand Atlantic rock noticeably in the water.
    “Why didn’t the captain see the squall coming?” Carolyn asked nervously.
    “They can come up very quickly,” David explained. “And there’s really no way to get around them.”
    “But for a ship this size, squalls aren’t dangerous, are they?”
    “Not in the least,” David assured her.
    Kit inquired, “Dad, how do you know so much about boats?”
    “I spent a lot of time on ships when I was in the military,” David said and thought about the destroyer he had been ferried to after being wounded in Somalia. Involuntarily he raised his hand and felt the scar on his chin where his jaw had been shattered. The destroyer carrying him to a naval hospital had hit rough seas, too. But he barely noticed it. The terrible pain in his jaw had all of his attention.
    The elevator jerked to a stop, and the three of them quickly exited. Kit led the way down the passageway, unaffected by the swaying of the liner. David watched his daughter prance along the corridor, skipping from side to side so she could touch each closed door. He remembered the old Navy adage—you’re born with sea legs; either you have them or you don’t. Kit had them.
    “Dad?” Kit asked as she looked back. “Are you going to check on Juanita?”
    “I think I’d better,” David said.
    “And I think I’d better go lie down for a while,” Carolyn told them.
    David studied her briefly. “Are you getting seasick?”
    “I’m a little unsteady,” Carolyn admitted.
    “Take an Antivert tablet before you become nauseous.”
    “That’s my plan,” Carolyn said and headed for the door to their cabin.
    David and Kit continued down the narrow passageway. They went by an open door and heard people within retching and throwing up. The ship began to sway more in a side-to-side motion. Both David and Kit kept a hand on the wall to maintain their balance as they came to the cabin where Kit and Juanita were staying. A DO NOT DISTURB sign hung on the door.
    “Listen to me, kiddo,” David said seriously. “Don’t start eating candy or potato chips while we’re around Juanita. That could make her even sicker.”
    “I gotcha, Dad.”
    “And don’t even mention food or drink.”
    “Right.”
    David rapped on the door and entered the cabin. Kit was a step behind him. Juanita Cruz was lying on the sofa in the sitting room, with her eyes closed. She was dressed in a thick bathrobe and had a wet washcloth draped over her forehead. The air in the room had a faint but definite aroma of vomit.
    “Juanita,” David said softly. “Are you feeling any better?”
    “Not much,” Juanita murmured, opening her eyes.
    “That’s because she won’t take her pills,” Kit interjected.
    “Why won’t you take the medicine, Juanita?” David asked.
    “Because as soon as I swallow the pills, I throw them back up.”
    “Then we’ll try something new,” David offered. “It’s a medicine patch you put on the skin behind your ear.”
    Juanita moaned loudly. “Just let me