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officer responded as he turned to look.
    Most cruise ships have exterior decks that run along the outside of the ship for scenic views, casual strolls, and moonlight dinners. A door leading out onto one such deck had caught Marcus’ full attention.
    Marcus watched as the door slowly swung open and a small form emerged from inside. Marcus froze in place as his brain recognized something familiar. The small form tottered over to the balcony and let out a primal scream.
    “I think that’s my son!” Marcus cried out, his face a mask of sheer horror.
    The police officer next to Marcus looked up in search of such an unsettling noise. With adrenaline kicking in, Marcus ran past the officer toward the ship. He climbed over the fencing and easily avoided the distracted security force.
    The child clambered over the balcony and launched off, plunging toward the concrete pier below. “Noooooo,” Marcus screamed as he ran to catch the boy. “Matthew, Matthew, MATTHEW!” he cried, desperate to save his son.
    Marcus stopped and reached up. The boy crashed hard and fast, right on top of his father. Feeling bones shatter, Marcus fell to the ground as he attempted to save his son from injury. Before Marcus could orient himself, he heard a guttural growl and felt a tearing sensation rip into the soft flesh of his neck. Pain and a strange heat radiated through his body. Paralyzed, Marcus could only stare helplessly as his son continued to maul him. Marcus noticed, as his vision grew dark, that Matthew’s eyes were imbued with a dull, red glow. The last thing Marcus saw was his son’s bloody, contorted face twisted into a look of malevolent violence. As Marcus’ mind sputtered his final thought of love for his son, the remaining passengers aboard the ship began to rain down around him. Hell had arrived, and it was pissed.

 
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
    Port of Chaos
     
     
    Mike watched the crowd at the Port though a pair of high-powered binoculars as a man pointed up at something. Mike tilted his head upward, looking for the source of the man’s agitation. He immediately zeroed in on an exterior cabin door as it slowly swung open. Mike focused his attention on the door and watched as a small boy emerged and walked onto the balcony.
    What happened next shocked Mike. The man broke free from the crowd, jumped the security fence, and ran toward the ship as the child climbed onto the railing, then jumped. Mike was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. The boy plummeted straight down only to land directly on the man below. Must be his father , Mike thought, horrified.  What the hell would cause a child to jump from the ship? Mike’s mind was churning to comprehend what he had witnessed.
    Then things got really fucked up. Mike spotted movement from the boy and couldn’t believe he was still alive. As he looked closer through the binoculars it became obvious the boy was mauling the man, who struggled, arms and legs flailing, for what seemed like an eternity before going limp. The child then slid off the twitching body of his father and brokenly started to crawl for the nearest person in the crowd. People who had been rooted in place, watching the spectacle in horror, scattered.
    Mike continued to watch the scene unfold as a chill slowly ran its way up his spine. More passengers stumbled from the door the child had exited and threw themselves off the ship. Most destroyed their bodies when they hit the concrete pier, failing to arise again. Some of them landed on the soft flesh of jumpers before them and were ambulatory again within seconds. Mike noticed that many had broken or mangled limbs, which considerably slowed their approach toward the crowd.
    Mike was horrified as he watched the people indiscriminately launch themselves at the nearest person in the crowd, be it man, woman, or child. It was a scene of horror worse than anything Mike had witnessed during his tour in Iraq. The surviving jumpers violently dragged members of the crowd down