Page 2 of Raven's Nest
Pain clouded her vision, every thought quickly crushed by the endless humming inside her head. Thunder bellowed around her and pressure cinched around her chest as she fought to draw in a hint of air. When her head had cleared enough, she pulled herself upright, legs shaking, her vision a mix of blurry gray bulkheads and black dots. Deep shadows engulfed the ship, any hint of light extinguished along with her sanity. But she managed to unclip her flashlight from her belt and grope her way along.
Were those lights flashing in the distance? Red and green? Slowly getting closer?
She blinked, nearly fell, then scanned the surface.
Nothing. No lights. No boats. Just endless cresting waves curling across the ocean.
Saylor gave herself a mental shake, then tumbled through the hatch and into the stairwell. TheVigilanttilted with the next wave, staying slightly off-kilter, this time, as lightning flashed beyond the windows. She staggered up the short flight, her stomach threatening to empty from the constant bouncing of the small beam, as she reached the bridge. She took a breath, shoved open the door, then peered inside.
Shadows filled the room, the helm aimlessly turning with the current. She stepped across the threshold, falling against the rear bulkhead when the ship tipped up, cresting a huge wave before dropping off the other side. Water sprayed across the glass as the vessel bobbed aimlessly along the surface.
They should be moving. Making a run for the coast before the storm cracked the damn ship in two. The welds on hull were already singing. An eerie tone she knew preceded the catastrophic failure she’d been thinking about. The kind legends were wrought from. Except where she couldn’t quite remember how to get the ship going. Which levers to push. How to activate the beacon.
Had they lost power?
She scanned the instruments, trying to get a single thought to take hold, when she spotted someone sprawled across the floor. She tripped her way over, then stopped dead.
“Captain Baker?”
Blood pooled beneath his body, his eyes open, unseeing. Saylor went to her knees, felt for a pulse. Cold skin greeted her fingers, the mere press of it roiling her stomach. She grabbed his shoulder — turned him onto his back.
Three hits.
All one grouping. What looked like a single pull from a semi-automatic.
Had she heard gunfire?
She glanced at her weapon. Had she fired?
Another pulse.
Stronger than before. As if it lived in the air around her. Had taken on a life of its own. A few sparks erupted from the navigational panels, a tendril of fire brightening the darkness. Destroying any hope of using the radio.
She stood, attempted to puzzle it all out, when the unforgiving truth hit her hard. Based on the sounds, the emptiness, the crew had either abandoned ship or been taken hostage. Likely by the men she’d heard. But hadn’t they been Maddox’s men?
More pain arced through her temples, the cold bite of reality driving home. Either she stayed and went down with the ship, or she headed for the stern — prayed the Zodiac hadn’t been compromised.
The next massive swell got her moving. Stumbling her way back down the stairs and onto the deck. She grabbed the railing with one hand, her weapon still gripped in the other, then started moving. Slowly. Each step harder than the last. She passed where the starboard lifeboat should have been, noting the empty lines, then kept going, tripping her way to the stern.
The thirty-foot Zodiac hung several feet off the deck, the side closest dipping at an odd angle, the broken line from the rigging snapping in the wind. It wasn’t her first choice as an escape vessel, the overhead canopy barely enough to protect from regular rain, let alone the deluge falling around her. And the mix of fiberglass and inflatable tubing might not withstand the sheer force of the surging waves, but it beat dying on the deck of theVigilant.
The harness console was dead, but she managed toaccess the manual override. The wind whipped ocean spray and rain across her face as she worked the lever, inching the boat lower. TheVigilantcontinued to thrash, each pounding wave tipping it a bit more. A few more massive hits, and the ship would surrender.
A hint of movement startled her, and she spun, weapon sweeping the deck, her ass braced against the console. A lone figure stood in the shadows, hood pulled up over his head. He turned, froze, staring at her until a flash of lightning illuminated his face.
She inhaled, nearly tripping onto one knee when the deck rose sharply, hanging at a forty-five before slamming back down. She grabbed the broken line, using it for balance as the man slowly closed the distance between them.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, her pulse pounding in her head. “Maddox?”
Rear Admiral Maddox stepped into the small beam of light, mouth pinched tight, his skin almost ashen. He looked her up and down, shaking his head. “Saylor?”
She took a step, stumbling back when the line pulled her off-balance. “You’re alive?”
“Where the hell have you been?”
She frowned, wondering if she should reach out and give him a hug or apologize for not finding him sooner. “I’ve been searching the ship. But I couldn’t find…” She swallowed, gagged. “Baker’s dead.”
Maddox gaped at her, his hands fisted at his side before scrubbing one down his face. Looking at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “I thought…”
