Joe’s father seemed hesitant, unsure what to make of her. Then he reached out and patted her head. Good, she’d won him over.
Now back to business! Skipper barked at Joe’s father and swung her head and shoulders toward the door. They needed to get going! Joe, their pup, was out there in the noise and burning, along with a lot of other pups and masters who needed their help!
The man in the shiny coat slapped Joe’s father on the arm and said something to him. Joe’s father slowly lowered him into a chair and spoke to him in a soft voice. The man in the shiny coat pointed toward the door, said a bunch of human words, and then, “Joe!”
Finally, someone who gets it! barked Skipper.
Joe’s father nodded and turned back to Skipper. She barked one more time to keep his attention—these humans could get so easily distracted, even the masters—and then ran out the door and down the stairs of the tower. Then they were on the deck, Skipper leading the way to the opening she’d come out of, retracing the smells and sounds that she’d passed.
She found the hatch—but it was blocked by a big piece of ship. And there was a human under it!
Skipper skidded to a halt, unsure what to do. Even if they could find another hatch, she didn’t want to leave this master here hurt. She looked up at Joe’s father, wondering what his plan was.
Joe’s father looked back at Skipper. Then he put his fingers in his mouth, and—
FWEET!
Whoa! Skipper had never heard a whistle like that before! It made her heart race and her head rush. It was like she instantly knew what to do!
Joe’s father lifted the big piece of ship. He strained and grunted, but he finally got it up high enough that Skipper could fit under it. She grabbed the hurt human by the leather strap around his waist and dragged him out of the way of the piece of ship. Then Joe’s father put down the ship piece, knelt down, picked up the human, and went into the hatch.
Inside the ship, Joe’s father put down the human and turned back to Skipper. He smiled down at her, and Skipper felt the same kindness and strength in him that she’d felt in Joe. They worked together perfectly. He was a good master, and she was a smart girl.
The ship shook under them, and Joe’s father’s smile went away as he steadied himself. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled again, and Skipper barked in agreement.
Skipper led him down the corridor, deeper into the ship. They had other masters and pups to save, including Joe. But maybe—just maybe—they had a chance of doing it, so long as they did it together.
Chapter 11
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1941
8:16 A.M.
“No!” cried Joe as Danny pulled him away. His feet splashed in the water on the floor as he tried to get back to the door, but it was no use.
“We’ve got to get to those pumps, Joe,” said Danny. “She’ll be fine on her own. There’s no time to waste.”
“Get off of me!” yelled Joe. He turned his anger on Danny and began swatting at the hand that held onto his shirt and dragged him away from Skipper. “We can’t just leave her! She needs me!”
Danny held Joe steady and looked into his eyes. “Look, Joe, Skipper is a smart dog, right?” he said. “She lived on the street for years. She’ll be fine on her own, like she was before you found her. And if this ship capsizes, she’s in just as much trouble as we are.”
Through the fear and anger, Joe heard the reason behind Danny’s words. Skipper was tough—she could make it on her own.
Maybe, Joe thought, he wasn’t scared of her being alone, but of having to go it alone himself. He had to prove that he could be brave—for Pop, for Skipper, but most of all for himself. He clamped his mouth shut and ran with Danny and the rest of the crew.
Making their way to the valves was especially difficult with the way the ship was leaning and the water that welled up around their ankles. Pretty soon, Joe’s ankles and calves burned with the effort of a steady uphill climb.
All around them, Joe heard the muffled sounds of battle through the walls: the chug of machine gun fire, the whoop of the air-raid siren, the occasional scream. Behind all of this was the rush of water and the loud, metallic groaning of the West Virginia.
Joe wondered what the attack meant. Up until now, the war had been something scary outside America. Pop talked about getting into the war, but Mama had mentioned that she heard newscasters on the radio saying it would never happen. Hitler and his allies in Italy and Japan would never think to attack America or any of its territories. What was going to happen now? Did this mean they were at war?
They turned a corner and nearly ran into an officer making his way down the corridor. When the man turned around, Joe saw that it was Lieutenant Commander Harper, the cigar-chewing officer who had led them to Captain Bennion!
Harper was propping himself up against an iron hold in the wall. His face was pale and beaded with sweat. Joe noticed the dark-red stain on the right shoulder of his uniform and could see that he was struggling to stay standing. He must have gotten injured in the attack.
“Commander Harper,” said Danny, going to the man’s side and putting an arm under him to help steady him.
“Cunningham?” said Harper, looking at them in disbelief. “Dean? What the blue blazes are you doing here? All of you boys need to get off this ship now. We could capsize at any moment.”
“We’re going to use the counterflooding valves to keep her upright,” said Danny. The men with them murmured agreement.
Harper shook his head. “I’m heading there now. I’ll take care of that. You boys go.”
“With all due respect, sir,” said Joe, “you’re in no shape to go it alone. Let us help you.”
“Not a chance, Dean,” said Harper. “This is too dangerous for a little kid like you.”
“Yeah, what else is new?” said Joe. The other men laughed, and Harper cracked a grin.
“All right,” said Harper, nodding. “Then let’s go, boys. Up ahead. Get to the valves, and I’ll instruct you from there.” They kept moving, with Joe leading the way and Danny helping Harper along as the older officer shouted directions.
Finally they reached the counterflooding valves, a series of large metal wheels set into a wall made entirely of twisting and curling pipes. There were five in all, and the team of men split up so there were two men on each valve, with Joe and Danny next to each other on the last one.
“On three, you all turn the switches, which will open the sea cocks and let in water,” barked Harper. “Turn them as far as you can, until they won’t turn any farther. Once they’re open, you’ll hear water coming in, which means the compartments are flooding.”
“Then what?” asked Norman.
“Then you run like your life depends on it, son,” said Harper. “Because pretty soon this compartment’s going to be flooded too. As long as you get going the minute we’re done, you should be able to make it out of here.”
The sailors were all silent. Even with the noise of battle around them, the counterflooding compartment felt like a church, huge and solemn.
“Ready?” asked Harper.
“Ready!” cried the men.
“Joe.” Joe looked up to see Danny. He stared straight ahead, as though he were looking past the valves to the water outside. “Whatever happens, you stick with me. Don’t leave my side. Do everything I do. If you can’t see me, I can’t see you. Got it?”
“What if I lose sight of you?” asked Joe.
Danny exhaled hard. “Then you run, Joe,” he said. “Don’t wait for me or search for me. You run as fast as you can, and you get off this ship.” The corners of Danny’s mouth twitched, and he blinked hard and fast. “And you tell Mills to be good for Mom and Dad. You tell her that I love her, and that I always will.”
The last words made Joe sick to his stomach. “Danny . . . ,” he said.
“And . . . TURN!” yelled Commander Harper.
There was no time to say anything else. Joe gritted his teeth and put every muscle i
n his body into turning the big wheel. At first it resisted, and then with a shriek of metal it began moving. And soon it was spinning so fast that the metal spokes in the wheel became a blur in Joe’s eyes.
Just like that, the wheel came to a stop with a CHUNK noise. Somewhere deep in the ship around them, Joe heard the sound of rushing water. For a split second, he smiled, happy they’d managed to counterflood the ship and keep it from capsizing—
And then he remembered Harper’s words, and he felt a jolt like an electric shock rushing through his legs
“Now MOVE!” yelled Commander Harper. Joe and Danny turned and ran, feeling the older officer’s hand slap their backs as the water began to pour in around them.
Chapter 12
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1941
8:24 A.M.
They did as they were told: they ran like their lives depended on it.
Because they did. The rush of water joined the sounds of the battle. The flood was coming.
The crew sprinted down the corridor. One by one, the other sailors in their group broke off and sealed the waterproof hatches to lock the flooded areas.
Joe’s feet pounded the metal floor of the West Virginia’s corridors. The passageways and hatches began to blur together in his vision as he ran from the oncoming water.
Behind him, Commander Harper still shouted instructions while draped over Danny’s shoulder, trying to keep up, but Joe couldn’t really hear them over the blood pounding in his ears. He felt like if he looked back even for a second, the water would be there, a big wave with teeth of foam ready to chomp down on him and swallow him forever.
All that mattered was survival.
“There, up ahead!” yelled Harper.
Joe’s eyes zeroed in on the end of the corridor. There was a set of steep metal stairs leading up to a final doorway in the wall. There it was, their end in sight.
Joe felt an extra spring in his step—they would make it!
He took the steps two at a time and then helped Commander Harper up the stairs along with Danny. Once they were through the doorway, Joe put his shoulder into the door and pushed—
A cry rang out from behind the door.
Joe froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. That voice . . .
He pulled the door open and looked inside. Halfway down the passageway, Seaman Norman lay on the floor, clutching his ankle. His face was creased in a grimace of pain, and he slammed his fist into the floor while crying out. He tried to climb to his feet, but he quickly stumbled and collapsed with another shout.
“Joe, close the hatch!” shouted Danny.
Joe felt the metal of the door under his hand, cool and solid. He thought of Norman calling him “boy” and making that crack about how his father would never be anything but a cook.
It would be so easy to shove the door closed.
Too easy, thought Joe.
“Joe, no!” screamed Danny, but Joe was already through the hatch and halfway down the stairs by then. He sprinted as hard as he could toward Norman and skidded to a halt at the sailor’s side.
“Come on!” yelled Joe. He knelt, put his shoulder under Norman’s arm, and hefted the sailor to his feet.
“Kid, I’m done for!” shouted Norman over the rush of water. “Save yourself!”
“Not a chance,” said Joe. He knew the right thing to do, and he’d do it or die trying.
Together, they hobbled toward the staircase. At the top, Danny was calling for them to hurry, waving them on. Every step made Norman wince and grunt in pain, but he was making good progress, moving with Joe as fast as he could.
Joe was exhausted, but he forced himself to keep going. They were almost there. Just a little farther.
Then he heard a roar from behind them. In the doorway, Danny’s eyes grew wide.
Joe glanced over his shoulder and saw the water coming. It crashed around a corner, bounced off the wall, and rushed toward them in a foamy blast of dark blue. And it was moving fast, coming at them far quicker than Joe and Norman could hop.
Joe saw the oncoming wave as a dark foamy fist, about to punch them in the back and knock them out forever.
Then he remembered Kai’s instructions during their first surfing lesson. You just gotta roll with the waves, Kai had said. Sometimes, the water is going to come at you hard and quick, and you won’t know what to do. Then you just gotta ride it. The wave’s going to move whether you want it to or not—you gotta decide if you’re with it or against it.
He’d never fully understood what that meant before, but he did now.
There was no fighting against this column of water. He’d just have to ride it.
“Okay, Norman,” shouted Joe. “When that water hits us, it’s going to try to sweep our legs out from under us. Instead, we’re going to fall forward and ride it with our bodies. Just let it push you into the stairs and then get up them as quickly as possible.”
“Are you nuts?” shrieked Norman. “It’ll crush us in an instant!”
Joe felt droplets of water and mist prickle the back of his neck. There was no time to reassure him. “Ready?” he shouted.
“Wait!” said Norman.
Joe glanced back. The water would hit them in three—two—one—
“Now!” shouted Joe.
Just as the column of water smashed into them, Joe and Norman leaned forward and let it rush up around them. Sure enough, the water swept them up on their bellies and fired them down the passageway toward the stairs.
Joe didn’t realize how fast they were shooting forward until he slammed into the stairwell. His forearms and knees clanged hard against the metal stairs, and the water hammered at his back. But he held onto Norman’s arm for dear life, knowing that one slip might sweep the injured sailor away into the slowly filling passageway.
Thankfully, he quickly felt Danny’s hand grabbing his shirt, and he managed to pull himself and Norman up the staircase to help Danny drag them up out of the water.
Joe and Norman fell into the corridor, dripping and gasping, while Danny and Commander Harper pushed the door against the rising flood. For a second, foamy jets of water sprayed out from the sides of the door—and then it shut with a thud. Danny and Commander Harper collapsed with their backs against it, breathing heavily.
“Well done, Sailors,” said Harper between breaths. “We just might’ve saved this old girl from capsizing.”
“Yeah.” Danny panted. “Now let’s just hope we can make it out alive.”
Joe looked over at Norman, saw him gritting his teeth. “How bad is your ankle?” he asked.
“Hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt,” said Norman. “Other than that, it’s fine.” He glanced over at Joe, and the anger and pain behind his eyes softened a little. “You saved my life, kid. I owe you one.”
“You would’ve done the same for me,” said Joe.
Norman nodded slowly, his mouth a hard, straight line. “Yeah. Yeah, I would have. Hey, where’d your dog go?”
Joe felt hurt wash over him in a wave. He’d been so caught up in counterflooding the ship that he’d forgotten about Skipper. For all he knew, she could be hurt or dead. He nodded and tried to keep his cool, but he felt his throat go tender and his eyes sting.
“Hey, kid, it’ll be okay,” said Norman, obviously seeing how upset Joe was. “I’m sorry I even brought it up. You’ll find her. I know you will. Tough kid like you? No question.”
“I just hope she’s all right,” said Joe.
“She seemed like a smart cookie,” said Norman. He put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Something tells me she’s somewhere playing it safe.”
Chapter 13
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1941
8:34 A.M.
Through the doorway was fire, raging with heat and billowing dirty-smelling smoke. In the corner was another pup, about Danny’s age, huddled and yelling as the flames closed in.
Joe’s father whistled and pointed, and Skipper followed his finger to a bundle of cloth on a shelf acr
oss the room. Just as before, it was as though she and Joe’s father were one, understanding each other perfectly.
Skipper didn’t even hesitate—she backed up, ran forward, and leaped over the flames to the shelf. She felt one or two of her hairs get singed, but she wasn’t going to whimper about a little burned-up fur. Not when she had a job to do.
Skipper grabbed the bundle of cloth in her mouth and jumped back out of the compartment. Joe’s father took it and unrolled it to reveal a heavy blanket. He whipped it into the air and let it fall over the flames—and just like that, they went out! The scared human pup got up and ran over the blanket, out of the hatch, and down the corridor.
Joe’s father turned to Skipper, petted her face, and said, “Good girl.”
Skipper had never wanted to run away less in her life. For the first time, she felt like she was doing what she needed to do: saving these humans. She and Joe’s father had already braved water, fire, and those sparking black ropes that sent buzzing pain through the water. It had been tough, but they’d saved so many human pups that she’d lost count. It was as though she and Joe’s father were speaking the same language; she would follow his whistling and pointing when he knew what to do, and he would follow her lead when she heard shouting or crying down in the corridors of the ship.
But it hadn’t all been easy. They’d been singed and shocked, slammed into walls by the rocking ship, and doused with water that reeked of fuel. Some of the pups and masters they’d found had been badly hurt, while others . . .
She couldn’t think about it. She knew that the minute that she or Joe’s father stopped to consider how scary everything around them was, they would be overwhelmed with the fear. They might run away.
Skipper turned to Joe’s father and saw that he was doing exactly that. Joe’s father planted his back against a wall, put his face to his hands, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. Skipper barked, trying to keep his energy up. She’d heard his heart pounding away since they’d started saving humans together, and she knew he was probably becoming tired and scared.
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