by Jordan Rivet
Compared to her teenage fumbling, it was both passionate and frightening. Esther acted on impulse, kissing and holding, moving in time with David but also in opposition to him. She felt angry with herself, even as she pulled him around the partition and pushed him toward the bed. She let him push his hands underneath her red silk skirt. She felt an urgency that she could only compare to moments when she put herself in dangerous situations, risking being crushed to fix a piece of machinery or climbing down the hull with no guarantee that the rail she’d tied herself to would hold. Her stomach might drop away into the sea; her head might fly up to meet the clouds. David’s nihilistic attitude and aristocratic mannerisms were infuriating, but she couldn’t resist the elegant certainty in his movements, the arrogant quirk of his mouth. She didn’t think about the Catalina or the water system or the time, focusing only on the tangles in David’s hair and the muscles in his back. He teased her and laughed at her urgency, but he was careful too, supporting her head so she wouldn’t hit it against the wall, and moving slowly when she cried out.
Afterward, he remembered to move his glasses to the nightstand. He laid his head on her chest as they fell asleep. The room rocked in the waves.
Chapter 18—The Sleeper Storm
ESTHER HIT THE FLOOR with a thump. Disoriented, she clawed her way out of the tangle of blankets. The room lurched again. She grabbed the bed frame to keep from smacking into the partition, ducking as David tumbled out of the bed, almost on top of her. He rolled to his feet, naked as a fish, and pressed both hands against the wall. The ship rocked violently, and the mattress crashed into Esther’s head from behind.
“What’s going on?” she said.
She shoved the mattress back, feeling a surge in her stomach, and looked frantically around the darkened cabin.
“I haven’t felt a storm like this in years.”
David slid to sit on the floor in front of her as the room tipped again. He felt around blindly for his glasses.
“Oh my god. A storm,” Esther said, panic seizing her. “I need to get to the engine room. Shit! What time is it?”
“You can’t go to the Catalina when it’s like this,” David said. “Where are my pants? I have a watch.”
Esther wrapped herself in a sheet and crawled across the floor. She grabbed David’s trousers as they tumbled past and pulled the fancy watch from the folds. “It’s after six! Rust, we slept all night. I need to get back to my ship.” She reached for her own clothes, ducking to avoid the sliding mattress. At least the bed itself was bolted down. Her fingers met the smooth plastic of David’s glasses on the floor, and she handed them to him.
One of the pictures on the wall fell with a crash.
“Esther, wait. It’s not safe,” David said urgently. “We need to figure out the condition of the Galaxy.”
“Screw the Galaxy,” Esther snapped. “The Catalina is not equipped to handle a storm like this. Why didn’t we have any warning? We should have run for it.”
She pulled on her clothes, catching her hair in the folds of her shirt as she yanked it on. Her head ached, and her body felt strange, like she was more fully aware of it than normal.
Esther dove for her bowling shoes, which were rolling across the floor in a jumble with David’s boots. She tossed them over to him.
“Get dressed. I need you to show me how to get out of here.”
She held on to the wall partition and staggered over to the chair, which was still firmly attached to the floor. A sharp pain stung her foot.
“Damn it. There’s glass on the floor from the cups.”
“Are you all right?”
David had already pulled on his own shoes. He worked his way around to her, coordinating his movements with the violent lurching of the ship.
“I don’t know. Ouch, one of these pieces is in deep.”
“Esther, you can’t go out like this. Don’t put your shoes on. You’ll make it worse.”
He took her foot in both hands and looked closely at her heel. “I’ll have to pull this out. Let me get some bandages. I don’t have anything to clean it with besides water. Wait here.”
He began the laborious journey across the stateroom.
Esther squeezed her foot just above the glass. Salt, it hurts!
“Hurry. I need to make sure everyone’s okay. I can’t believe we slept for so long. I never should have come here.”
David looked back at her, his expression cloaked. “Don’t say that. Last night was—”
“You can celebrate your conquest later, Hawthorne. I need to get out of here,” Esther snapped.
David returned from the bathroom with a small water bottle and a T-shirt in his hand. He lurched back to the chair and took her foot again.
“Esther, it wasn’t a conquest.” His voice was quiet. He pulled the shard out of her foot and poured water over the cut.
She winced. “I don’t have time to worry about that right now. You knew I had to get back to the Catalina last night. I shouldn’t have had that whiskey.”
She shouldn’t have let her guard down, shouldn’t have responded to him just because he’d been sweet and she’d felt . . . something.
“I didn’t mean to take advantage of you. I thought we’d both sobered up by the time we—”
“Just finish what you’re doing.”
Esther clenched her teeth against the stabbing pain in her foot. The ship pitched back and forth.
“Can we talk later?” he said, a slight tic in his jaw.
“With any luck, later I’ll be back on my own ship and we’ll be on our way away from here.”
She was already thinking through her options for getting back to the Catalina, which was moored awfully far from the Mist. David bent low over her foot, wrapping it carefully in fabric he’d ripped from his T-shirt. When her foot was fully swathed, he slid it gently into her bowling shoe and tied the laces for her.
“All set.”
He looked up at her. There was a crack in his glasses. For an instant she pictured the night before when she’d pushed his glasses off, kissed his face, wrapped her legs around him.
She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and changed her mind. “Let’s go.”
The lights in the passageway flickered violently. Esther and David held on to the paneling on the wall in order to remain upright. It was slow going as they made their way down the corridor. Pain shot through Esther’s foot with every step. David tried to help her, but he had to steady himself too. Panicked shouts came from some of the cabins. A baby let out a high-pitched wail. The sound of breaking glass reverberated through the walls. The tossing of the ship was unlike anything Esther had experienced. Each roll changed her center of gravity. It was nearly impossible to find her balance, as she had to rely on only one foot. She was used to storms, but this was different. This was worse.
At the staircase, Esther pulled herself up each step, trying to stay on the pad of her foot and off her heel as much as possible. David offered to help, but she shrugged him off. A man clattered down the steps past them.
“What’s going on up there?” David asked.
“Hell if I know. Didn’t get any warning about the storm. Did you?”
“No. Are the bridges up?”
“Couldn’t tell you. Gotta see if my kids are okay.”
Esther glanced back at David before continuing up the stairs. At the top, he moved forward to lead the way.
“We’ll try the deck first.”
They ran along a wider corridor to the atrium. The doors to the big theater swung back and forth on their hinges, crashing against each other.
On the deck, the full force of the storm greeted them. The wind screeched, and powerful waves burst against the ship. Rain and sea spray soaked them immediately. The crew ran back and forth, narrowly avoiding running into each other.
David grabbed one’s arm as he hurtled past. “Are the bridges up?”
The man’s thick beard dripped with water. “The bridges are gone, mate,” he s
aid. “Storm came out of nowhere, just like the old days. We’re hightailing it as far away from the other ships as we can get. I heard the Luxe and one of the cargo giants already had a bad collision. Don’t know about anyone else.”
“I need to get back to my ship,” Esther broke in. Worry stabbed through her gut.
“You’re not going anywhere. We’ll be lucky if we survive this ourselves.”
The man pulled free from David’s grip and ran to help a group of seamen tie down a lifeboat that had just pulled loose. They shouted as it careened over their heads. Water poured through the gap between the lifeboat and the deck. The sea howled around them. The ship rolled to the side, and Esther couldn’t tell if she was looking at a colossal wave or the bottom of the sea itself.
“Hawthorne, what are our other options?” she shouted over the gale.
He reached out an arm to steady her. “We can’t do anything now. We have to wait for the storm to pass.”
She shrugged him off. “That’s not good enough. What about the radio? Gotta talk to Neal.”
David nodded. “We can try that. Follow me.”
They stumbled past dozens of others running to their duties, asking after family members. Many sported cuts and bruises, evidence of the violent tempest. Wide eyes and teeth bared in fear showed in each flash of lightning.
By the time they made it to the external entrance to the bridge, Esther’s arms were exhausted from pulling herself along the railings. Her foot ached, and she could barely keep up with David as he climbed the steep staircase. The final stretch was a vertical ladder like the one she used to get into Neal’s Tower. She could barely pull herself onto the first rung.
“Let me carry you, Esther,” David said. “You’re injured.”
“No. Just go up there and get some answers.”
The ship lurched, knocking Esther off the ladder. She tumbled into the bulkhead. David leapt back down and tried to pick her up.
“You can’t do this. Let me help.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
Esther knocked away his hands and pushed herself back to the ladder. Her muscles screamed in pain as she pulled herself slowly upward. She braced against the violent movement, her bowling shoes slipping, and forced herself to take each step. David followed closely behind, but he didn’t touch her as she traveled up the last few rungs. At the top, she banged on the hatch until it swung open, and hauled herself into the bridge. Black spots floated in front of her eyes, but she shook them clear.
The bridge stretched the full width of the ship. Panels of knobs and computer terminals sat beneath a wall of windows. Outside, the sky was pitch-black despite the hour.
Suddenly, lightning flashed, illuminating the bridge for a split second. The light fractured through the drops of rain clinging angrily to the outside of the window. Within the tower, four operators clung to their chairs, shouting coordinates and questions into their headphones over the sound of the wind.
David tapped the closest one on the shoulder. “Reuben, we need information.”
“A little busy right now, Hawthorne.”
Reuben had a square jaw and close-cropped hair. Beneath the headphones, he was missing part of his left earlobe.
“We mobile?” David asked.
“Yeah, engines full throttle. Didn’t see this one coming at all.”
Reuben swiveled to another control panel and pressed a button repeatedly. His voice was blunt, like a chisel.
“Why not?”
“Figure that out later. What do you need?”
“Status of the other ships.”
Reuben shook his head. “Luxe is listing badly, but we’re too far away to do anything about it. They got some of the smaller craft doing what they can. At least one of the cargo ships is gone.”
“Did they save many of the little boats?”
“Doubt it. Can’t say for sure, but I’m betting the water taxis took a hit. We still have at least one of the oilers, so that’s something. Bridges are gone.”
“All of them?”
“Near enough. Most of ’em would have been in use, wouldn’t they? Probably did some major damage on their way down.” Reuben turned his head away to curse.
“You know anything about the Catalina?”
“The little floater? Haven’t heard anything.”
“Can you ask around? This girl belongs with them.”
Reuben swiveled in his chair to look at Esther, who was still sitting on the floor beside the hatch. From her angle, she could see water pounding the windows. If it was possible, the sky grew blacker.
“I can try. Don’t have high hopes,” Reuben grunted, but he flicked a switch on the control panel. “Galaxy Mist to Catalina. Catalina, do you copy? Anyone out there know the status of Catalina? Emerald? Any news?” Esther waited, tense, as Reuben shouted his request into the mic. She wished she could hear what was going on inside his headphones. “Copy that. Thanks, Crystal. Keep us posted there.” He looked over his shoulder at Esther. “Can’t raise anyone in their broadcast center or on the bridge. You guys have a radio chief?”
“Yeah, Neal.”
“Oh right. Marianna’s friend. Can’t get ahold of him. Maybe he’s out helping the crew.”
“No, he’d be in the tower.” Esther’s stomach clenched like a tightening screw.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Now’s not the time to get your answers. Have to wait till the storm clears.”
Reuben swung back to his work, and his hands flew across the control panel.
David sat beside Esther on the floor. His pale hair glowed in a lightning strike. “I’m sorry, Esther.”
She wanted to argue with what was happening, to lash out. Everything had suddenly gone so very wrong.
“Neal would be in the tower in a storm like this. They should be able to get him. His radio equipment is in good shape.”
“This is the most powerful storm we’ve seen in years,” David said, as if she didn’t know that.
Esther held on against the movements of the ship. Her foot throbbed. She had to do something. I hope my dad is all right. She didn’t dare follow that line of thought.
“Can I stay here and wait for news?” she asked.
David and Reuben exchanged glances. “It’s not going to help.”
“I need to know.”
Reuben shrugged and scratched at his left ear. “Suit yourself.”
“You can go back to whatever it is you do now,” Esther said to David.
Had they really been wrapped up together just a few hours ago? How had she let this happen? The adrenaline had begun to drain from her body as if it were escaping through the hatch in the floor. She felt tired and confused.
David looked at her through his broken glasses. “No, I’ll stay with you. You might need me.”
“I doubt it.”
“Come on, Esther,” he said, “I’m trying to help. I’m not the bad guy here.”
Esther didn’t answer. She shouldn’t be cruel to him, but she was angry. She had let down her guard, made herself vulnerable, even enjoyed herself. Then look what happened. She folded her arms around her ankle as if she could fend off the pain in her foot, shifting awkwardly in the tight skirt. David didn’t say anything more either, just sat beside her, frowning, as the wind howled around the tower and static crackled through the radio.
As the hours passed, Esther fought to keep her head up. If only she’d been more rested, she might not have fallen asleep in David’s arms. She could be back on the Catalina by now, helping them weather the storm.
A fog had begun to settle over Esther’s brain when Reuben’s voice cut through it, chisel sharp. “What’s that, Emerald? Copy. Copy. Thanks for that. Yep, we’re okay here. We’ll see you at the rendezvous. Good news on the Catalina.” Esther’s head jolted up. “They made a clean break with the Emerald. Got the bridge up and everything. They knew enough to hightail it out of here.”
“Are they still afloat?” Esther hobbled over to st
and by Reuben’s chair.
“No word on that. Still haven’t established radio contact. We’ll try and get them on the satellite when the storm is over.”
“Our satellite links are still pretty rudimentary, but Neal will get them up and running. He’s been learning about Marianna’s system.”
Esther looked out of the windows. The waves crashed across the deck below them. The sky whirled in a torrent of black and gray. She thought she saw the glow of another ship far out to sea, but otherwise they were alone.
“What did you say about a rendezvous?”
“We have an emergency plan in place. All the Galaxy ships head to designated coordinates after an event like this. Usually, we break apart well in advance of the storms and we’re all back together within twenty-four hours. In a killer like this, though, all the captains worth their salt will have gotten pretty far away from everyone else to avoid collisions, so it could take a few days for everyone to join up.”
“Did anyone inform the Catalina of the rendezvous coordinates?” Esther asked, her heart sinking into her stomach.
Reuben glanced over at David. “That’s not my business.”
David’s voice was suddenly very formal, as it had been the first day they met. His back straightened perceptibly.
“No,” he said. “The captains wouldn’t risk sharing our contingency plans.”
Esther looked at him levelly, willed herself not to think about the way he’d made her feel last night. The lightning stabbed across his broken glasses. She made her voice as cold as ice in a whiskey glass.
“Well, we’re just going to have to establish contact with them soon then. They’re low on water, really low. We can’t let them float for long.”
