Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (9 page)

“Where is it warm?”

“By the engines. And they have lots of tools. Do you like tools? Daddy
says I can have some of my own when I get big.”

Neal stood and allowed Esther to pull him toward the door leading
deeper into the ship. Esther seemed to have things well in hand, and Neal’s
mother needed Judith’s help. She draped the shivering woman’s arms around her
neck and half carried her toward the door. The floor still swayed.

Neal’s mother questioned her feebly about how close they were to
Hawaii.

“I don’t know any more than you,” Judith said. “This storm could have
tossed us anywhere.”

She felt like the numbness had moved from her limbs, which were warming
up with the exertion, into the core of her body. What if they had been carried
too far away from Hawaii? How much longer could they sail before they ran out
of fuel? They had almost made it.

After installing Neal’s mother in her cabin, Judith returned to the
dining hall. The injured had been moved with the help of the other survivors,
and Simon was directing a group of sailors to improvise some sort of patch for
the windows. They used whatever they could find, mostly tables reinforced with
metal from the few lounge chairs that had been in storage. The other deck
chairs had been swept away by the storm.

Simon told Judith he didn’t need any more help, so she headed for the
bridge.

Chapter 9—The Captain

Judith

By the time Judith
arrived at the bridge it
was morning. The sky remained dark gray, with just enough light forcing through
the clouds to distinguish it from night. Judith couldn’t wait to see a real
golden sunrise again.

Ren
was hunched over her computer console when Judith
entered the bridge. Nora sat beside her, swigging vodka from a cracked blue
bottle. They must have located the captain’s supply. Both women wore the same
clothes as last night when Judith left them to have dinner with Simon and
Esther. Was that only yesterday?

“Are you guys okay?” Judith asked.

“We’ve been better,”
Ren
said, reaching for
the vodka bottle in Nora’s hand.

“Ugh, are storms always like that?” Judith slumped into a chair and put
her head in her hands. “Where’s the captain?”

“Up in the radio tower shooting the messenger. Poor
Vinny
.”
Ren
tipped the bottle up and then handed it back to
Nora.

“Huh?”

“
Vinny
finally got in touch with Hawaii,”
Nora said. Her eyes were the same bright pink as her hair. “About an hour ago.”

Judith bolted upright.

“And?” she prompted.

“The storm was bad for us,”
Ren
said.
“Longest and worst one I’ve ever been through.”

“Okay . . .”

“Well, we were just on the edge. This thing was massive.”
Ren
rubbed her eyes, pulling her
skin
tight
across her face. She had kept it together so well over the past
few days, taking up most of the slack from the captain, but now she was coming
undone. It had to be bad if she was drinking vodka at her post.

“We’ve been blown far off course,”
Ren
said,
“and there were huge storm surges across the Hawaiian Islands. We’re talking
Indian Ocean tsunami, Hurricane Katrina, Typhoon
Haiyan
on overdrive. This storm is hell-bent on destruction. Hawaii is a disaster
zone. Honolulu got it bad, and the little beach towns got it worse. Pearl
Harbor is basically a puddle of mud. We can’t dock there anytime soon even if
we have enough fuel left to get there.”

Judith felt the world narrowing to a point. They had been almost there.
They were supposed to be sailing into the harbor this very moment. She had
pictured the Hawaii of postcards, despite the darkened skies. She had seen them
gliding into Pearl Harbor, taking refuge amidst strong and reassuring warships,
walking across a clean white-sand beach. She couldn’t reconcile that image with
what
Ren
was saying. They were supposed to be safe.

“What about the navy?” Judith whispered.

“Do you know what happens when a storm surge picks up a warship?”
Ren
asked, her words slurring.

“No.”

“Same thing that happens when a storm surge picks up any other ship and
throws it onto the beach.”

Judith slid to the floor. The feeling had finally returned to her
limbs, but now she felt like her head was full of cotton. No Hawaii. No navy.
The ship was still rocking, making her feel ill.

Nora handed her the bottle of vodka, teetering on the edge of her
swivel chair. “We got the net back for a few minutes,” she said. “Apparently
the ash from the volcano is spreading in the atmosphere and making it hard for
satellite signals to get through. While we were online, we found a site that
seems to have the most updated news. It’s on a network with a capacity barely
out of the nineties. There have been riots in New York and Atlanta. People are
scared.”

“How long have we been at sea again?” Judith said. She took a swallow
of the vodka, a drink she had never cared for in the best of circumstances. It
burnt her throat like bile as it went down.

“This is the fourth day.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We have to get to land,”
Ren
said. “Problem
is we’re not exactly sure where we are right now. The storm dragged us around
quite a bit. For all we know Hawaii is a thousand miles away. I’m still working
on figuring out our position.”

“How much fuel do we have left?”

“A little,”
Ren
said. “But it may not be enough
to get us back.”

“Does anyone know we’re out here?” Judith asked. She felt very small.
Rain slicked the bridge windows with a viscous film. It was only a trick of the
light, but it looked like there was oil dripping down the outsides of the ship.

“Who? The coast guard?”
Ren
said. “They could
be in worse shape than us. I think we’re on our own.”

The door burst open.

“Captain! Captain, sir!” It was Manny, the young Filipino crewman who
had helped Judith on the day of the disaster.

“Captain’s in the crow’s nest,”
Ren
said.

Nora giggled, reaching for the bottle again.

“The ship. She is leaking,” Manny said.

Nora set the bottle back down.

Simon

Simon
had found Esther and the little boy, Neal, wedged beneath an engine again. The
humming of the machine was soothing. The engine room was deserted, apart from
the children. The remaining crew was still working on covering up the broken
windows around the ship.

Simon returned Neal to his mother, whose name was Mona. She was
shuddering with fever, and Simon instructed the little boy to go to Nurse Laura
for help if she got any worse. Then they headed for their own cabin, hoping to
settle in for some sleep. Esther ran ahead, while Simon knocked on a few doors
to check on people along the way. It seemed like the right thing to do.

In a cabin on their corridor, one that had been outfitted with bunks
for four, he found Penelope Newton, the woman with the cross necklace who had
helped during the birth of little Catalina. She had insisted on taking a hotel
staff cabin with her sons instead of a larger stateroom. “Give it to someone
who needs it,” she’d said.

Now the tiny room was full of people. An older woman Simon didn’t know
opened the door at his knock.

“And if it be your will, Lord, carry us through the . . .” someone was
saying.

Simon started to back out again, but the old woman put a hand on his
arm to stop him. Penelope sat on one of the lower bunks, holding hands with
people on both sides. She was the one who had been speaking. She opened one eye
when Simon entered, then closed it again.

Her three towheaded boys sat cross-legged on a top bunk, looking down
on the people filling the room. Horace, one of the runners, still wore the suit
he’d had on the first day, the sleeves and cuffs rolled up like Robinson
Crusoe’s. Elderly cruise passengers squeezed together on the other bottom
bunks. A family of four from Michigan sat on the floor, one child in each parent’s
lap. Everyone’s eyes were closed, and they held hands with one or two others.

Penelope’s voice was a strong, sure drawl. “And be with my Jeb, Lord,
and protect our sacred union. Your eye is on the sparrow, and I know it must be
on my little boys’ daddy in San Diego too. Please guide the hands that sail
this ship. And if we are truly living in the Last Days, then Jesus
come
quickly. Amen.”

Amens
circled the room. There was something cozy about
the scene, but it left Simon feeling desperately sad. God couldn’t possibly be
with them, not if he wasn’t with Nina and Naomi—perfect, beautiful Nina
and Naomi on their way to the dentist.

Simon realized that the whole prayer group had turned to look at him.

“I just wanted to check in and see how everyone’s doing,” he said. “Any
injuries during the storm?”

“The Lord brought us through. Didn’t He?” Penelope said.

The people nodded fervently.

“I see.” Simon faked a smile. He didn’t want to think about God, didn’t
want to allow the anger and despair to rise in his chest. “Good. Well, I’ll
leave you to—”

“Would you like to join us in prayer?” Penelope asked.

“I’m Jewish actually . . . I don’t think—”

“That’s all right. Horace here is a Buddhist,” Penelope said, gesturing
to the suited man. “We don’t think
Jesus’ll
mind too
much under the circumstances.”

“I don’t want to pray,” Simon said, his
breath
catching. He tried to slow his heart rate. He could stay calm in other
situations. Why not during a simple prayer meeting?

But Penelope wouldn’t be deterred. “Would you mind if we lay our hands
on you? You don’t have to speak a word.”

“What? Why me?”

“You’re the one who’s been watching out for everyone. We were talking
before the prayer, and we think you’re the shepherd anointed for this voyage.”

The two Michigan parents were nodding. The old woman who had opened the
door patted Simon on the shoulder.

“I’m not really doing anything, just helping out.”

“Even so,” Penelope said, “we all feel better with you taking the lead.
Don’t ya’ll think Simon’s got a better head on his shoulders than most?”

A murmur of assent went around the room.

“Thank you. Hopefully we’ll be disembarking soon, though. I’d better go
get some shut-eye.” Simon was surprised to see a flash of disappointment on a
few faces when he turned to go. He really didn’t like to let people down. He
sighed. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

He went to the center of the cabin, a mere two steps from the door, and
got awkwardly to his knees. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept the previous
night as he sat tensed in the alcove, trying to keep Esther and Judith from
tumbling into the sea. But the weariness was deeper than that—bone deep,
soul deep. Every waking moment he was struggling against the despair that
threatened to pull him under.

Penelope shuffled forward on her bunk, reminding Simon of a pheasant
hen. She put her right hand on his head. It was soft and light. The others
reached out their
hands,
some firm, some trembling,
and connected.

Then Penelope prayed, her breath ruffling the hair on the back of
Simon’s neck.

He couldn’t identify what he felt as she spoke. There was energy in the
room, perhaps because it was small and stuffy and the floor still tipped,
perhaps because everyone was coming down from what he had learned to recognize
as a fear high. He’d experienced that high too many times in the last few days.
But Simon felt warmed by all the hands on his head and shoulders. It was as if
they were sending electricity into him through this act of faith and hope. He
didn’t know if it was God, but when it was over he felt encouraged and a little
more alert.

“Thank you,” he said as he stood to go. “Uh, take care, everyone.”

“God bless you, Simon.” Penelope took the hands of the people next to
her again and closed her eyes.

Out in the corridor Simon leaned against the wall. Emergency lights
along the ceiling lighted the passageway. It was a strange feeling to have
people put their trust in him. He’d rarely had anyone except his family rely on
him or look to him for leadership. It scared him, but the more they looked to
him, the more he knew he wouldn’t let them down. He rolled his shoulders,
feeling a little looser and lighter, and went into his own cabin.

Judith

At
Manny’s words,
Ren
jumped into action, turning to the
ship’s computers to isolate the problem. She should be able to close the flood
doors in the problem area to keep the water from spreading.

Manny darted to the crow’s nest and whisked up the ladder to fetch the
captain. He stopped when his heels were about to disappear from view and then
backed down into the bridge.
Vinny
and the captain
followed.

Captain
Martinelli’s
silver hair had lost its
sheen. It looked longer, Einstein-like, without the careful comb and plaster
job he’d worn previously. His face was darker than the sky outside.
     

Judith leapt up and helped Nora to her feet. They backed away, hoping
the captain wouldn’t notice them. He stumbled on the last step, but when he
stood, his back was straight. He walked stiffly to the windows.

“We cannot disembark in Hawaii,” he said, his voice distant as the
moon. “We don’t have enough fuel to reach Asia or return to the continent.
Little good that would do.” He put both hands behind his back and stared
outward, unseeing.

“Uh, sir?”
Ren
said, looking like she might
faint. “There’s a leak in the hull. What are your orders?”

“Let the ship sink into the goddamn sea.”

Judith started. Manny crossed himself and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Sir?”

Captain
Martinelli
didn’t turn from the
window, but his voice was as clear as a thunderclap.