Page 10 of Raven's Nest
“And yet, you had to ask for my spare.”
Atticus grinned. “Like I said before. Scary. I suggest we clear this level, then head to the bridge. We can reassess once we see if anyone’s piloting this thing.”
“Agreed.”
Saylor scanned the area, one more time — confirmed there weren’t any visible threats on the deck or in the water — then started walking. She veered left as Atticus stayed right, slowly searching every possible hiding spot for any crew. They got partway up the deck, angling back together near the base of a massive crane, when the ship tilted up as a large swell rolled through, dropping it off the other side.
She braced herself against the crane as Atticus grabbed a line strung across the width of the ship, both of them riding out the wave, when the line snapped. It whipped back, nearly taking Atticus with it, before a rusted drum dropped onto the deck and bounced toward them. She dove at the man, tackling him to the deck as the damn barrel landed beside them, then bounded past, clattering against the side before sliding toward the stern and finally stopping at the far end.
Pain sparked through her shoulder, the rough landing definitely leaving a mark. She eased off Atticus, quickly scanning the deck when he cursed. She snappedher gaze back to him, giving him a quick once-over only to stop cold at his ankle.
“Damn.” She checked the area, again, then shifted over, assessing his leg without moving it. “Did that drum land on it?”
Atticus cussed, again, when she gently eased his cuff farther up his calf. “More of a glancing blow, but…”
“Sorry, Atticus, but that might be broken.” She offered him her hand, helping him to his feet. “Lean on me, and we’ll get you back to the stern.”
The man muttered under his breath the entire way, cussing when she finally eased him down, his back pressed against the side. “This is ridiculous. Just, splint the damn thing, and I’ll be good to go.”
“The only place you’re going is the hospital.” She glanced up the ship. “Wait here a moment.”
Saylor ventured back to where the barrel had been secured and checked the lashing. Her stomach clenched at the clean edges cut halfway through the line, the obvious answer sending a shiver down her spine.
“Well?” Atticus nodded at the barrel off to his left. “I assume you checked the line because you had a theory?”
“Yeah, that we’re not welcome on this ship, and I’m right. The line was compromised. It was bound to snap the moment anyone grabbed it.”
“That’s it, then. We’ll shimmy back down the ladder and?—”
“Wait.” Saylor focused on the main section. “Did you hear that?”
Atticus shook his head. “The future sound of soul-crushing regret? Yeah, it’s singing like a damn siren on this thing.”
“I swear I heard voices. Distant, probably below deck.”
“Then, they can wait for the Coast Guard to help them. This ship has obviously been pillaged, and whoever did that left a few surprises behind. No way, you’re going off on your own.”
Saylor sighed. “I’ll only do a quick sweep. You stay here and guard my six.”
“I can’t guard your six when I can’t see it.”
“Just… make sure no one steals my boat. And shoot a round in the air if you see anyone else approaching who doesn’t look like they’re here to help. I’ll come racing back. Promise.”
“Saylor.” Atticus managed to push himself up onto his good leg. “This feels wrong.”
“I know, but…” She took his hand. “What if Mac hadn’t called in favors and insisted on being part of the recovery team? If she’d waited until it was safe to come looking for me? What if she hadn’t ventured out with the winds still howling and the ocean still seething? If she’d assumed everyone had been lost, and that it wasn’t worth her time? Her safety? I might not remember it in the truest sense, but I’m only alive because she put her life on the line to save mine.”
Atticus huffed. “Just, be careful, or it won’t matter if you can look at yourself in the mirror or not.”
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
She gave his hand a squeeze, then struck off, quickly moving up the deck then over to an external set ofstairs. She kept her gun at the ready, constantly checking that Atticus wasn’t stubbornly limping along the deck, trying to follow her, before heading up. The metal clanged beneath her boots as she reached the next level, the ship still tilting left and right with every wave. Only now, it didn’t recover as quickly, staying slightly off-kilter. Edging toward the starboard side a bit more with every swell.
All the more reason to check for survivors, then get the hell off — let the Coast Guard worry about if the vessel was salvageable or not.
The door to the stairwell creaked in the wind, the eerie sound sparking more flashbacks. Lights bobbing along the surface. Footsteps pounding along the corridor. She did her best to shove them aside — focus on climbing the stairs — but the thoughts lingered in the background.
Saylor stopped at the top, the hatch to the bridge already ajar. She took a breath, then slowly opened the door, clearing the area as it appeared a wedge at a time.
