Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-23872426-20180816040637

It was a sailor’s worst nightmare. Forced to abandon ship, four soldiers, of various ranks and nationalities, floated adrift in a seemingly endless ocean. Wrapped in a thick blanket of fog, the cold waters of the Atlantic thrashed and turned their bare bodies. Each passing wave thrashed the men, sending cold chills into their already shivering bodies. As time passed they began to lose feeling in their fingers, and they all knew it wouldn’t be long before hypothermia set in. The end was nigh.

But then, just when all hope seemed lost, a beacon of hope pierced through the fog. A bright search light shined across the men, brightening each of their seemingly defeated faces. They all yelled and cheered for attention, and in the distance the sound of a motor could be heard approaching over the bashing waves. It wasn’t long before a small fishing boat appeared through the fog, its lights beaming down on the castaway soldiers.

“Stay together lads!” A thick Irish voice rang out from on top of the ship. “I’ll throw the rope and fish you onboard!”

The ship’s motor roared, and the vessel turned so that its open back end faced the four men. Within moments the deafening uproar of the motor calmed, and went silent. A large, aged man then appeared, limping onto the deck of the old fishing boat. In his hands was a single life preserver, that he hastily casted out to the soldiers.

“Grab on before the waves suck yah’ down!”

Although the four of them at this point couldn’t feel their hands, they still could wrap their arms tight enough around the ring-shaped life preserver to get pulled in. The older man on the deck began violently tugging the four in, his breathing intensifying with each pull.

“Come on, kick you bastards! There’s a storm comin’!”

After what felt like an eternity adrift, the men finally pulled themselves onto a solid surface. In utter fatigue each one laid against the deck, still shivering and shaking from the frigid waters.

“Come on, come on! Get below deck and warm up.” The fishermen directed. “Come on!”

The four gladly complied, and shortly found that the interior of the ship was strikingly warmer than the cold, damp exterior. In an instinctive manner they all huddled around the furnace centered in the cramped corridor which resembled something of a kitchen and dining room. The flame gave the men comfort, like a warm fire in the night. Behind them, the fishermen descended into the room, sealing the door to the upper deck behind him. Almost immediately he was given a warm greeting one of the four castaways. This one stood out from the rest, as he was very large and obviously out of shape.

“Thank god!” The round man said, it was obvious from his accent that he was an American Yankee. “I thought we were dead for sure!”

The strange fisherman did not respond however, for he knew that there was still work to be done. He opened up a few cabinets, and handed the warm blankets to the crew, one at a time. For the first time, as he gave each blanket out, he finally was able to give a good look at each man. First man he took notice of was the stockiest of the group. He wore a soldier’s uniform bearing the American flag on it.

“What’s your name?” The fisherman asked.

“Burns. Private Burns at your service!”

Moving on, he then handed a blanket to a man dressed eloquently in all white captain’s regalia. This man must have been the captain of the vessel that had just sank. “Thank you.” This man, who was clearly the most experienced and aged of the group, responded. “I’m Captain Seymour of the U.S Navy.”

For the last two blankets, they were given to a Canadian who introduced himself as Davis. He was a medic, and spoke very little. It was obvious from the sight of him he was still visibly in distress, as if he was still haunted by the sinking of the ship. The last man to receive a blanket was not so kind, and didn’t bother to introduce himself. That didn’t stop the fisherman from reading his name and rank on his uniform however, Lieutenant Carpenter of the English Army.

With introductions spared, the Irishmen seamen then dragged out a few cans from the nearest cupboard, and turned on a small stove. Behind him he could feel Carpenter’s eyes stabbing into him, watching his every move. Out of base instinct, Carpenter did not entirely trust this man yet, nor anyone else on this vessel for that matter. “I’ll heat up some soup. Can’t imagine you’ve all eaten anything recently.”

The stove clicked, and small flames flourished from beneath the stove. Slowly the smell of cooking began to fill the cabin.

“So tell me,” The old fisherman inquired. “What’re a bunch of army lads doing this far out at sea?”

Captain Seymour adjusted himself, and let out a sigh. With emotions this high and the screams of the crew that he failed still in the back of his mind, he prepared himself to tell the tale. “It was one of the German’s wolves. We-“

“What?” The large man known as Private Burns hollered, interrupting the decorated captain. “What would a wolf be doing this far out at sea?!” “He means a U-boat you big blubbering idiot. You know, a submarine?” Carpenter retorted in a dagger-like manner.

“Please….” The Canadian named Davis pleaded. “Let’s not forget how lucky we are. Think of all those hundreds of men who are at the bottom of the ocean right now…never going to see their families again.”

Seymour, not one to be interrupted, cleared his throat in order to gain attention back to him, “As I was saying…We were an army transport vessel bringing relieved soldiers back to the British mainland. No one was supposed to be out here, and only high command knew our location! Needless to say, I don’t know what you were doing all the way out here, but your arrival is almost a godsend.”

The old fisherman stirred the broth of the stew. “I see. But why are you this far away from the English Channel in the stormy waters of the Atlantic?”

The Navy Captain adjusted himself to face the fisherman. “The intention was to go away from normal travel routes and stick close to the storm to dodge the U-boats. Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“Excuse me.” Davis quietly murmured out. “But I don’t think we ever got your name, sir?”

“Me?” The old Irishmen asked as he reached back into the cupboard to grab cups and utensils. “Call me Ward. I’m the captain of this fishing boat.”

Ward proceeded to pour the freshly cooked stew into several cups, handing them out to everyone before he sat down around the small furnace himself. Several minutes passed, and the sailors all ate in silence. During that time Burns fiddled with his soup, not that hungry. Davis tried to eat, but his stomach was still upset from the heaving and turning of the boat. Carpenter sat in his corner, sipping his soup while watching everyone else eagerly. In a room full of strangers, he could never be too careful. Seymour took notice of this, and began to watch the English Lieutenant just as closely.

“I just….” Davis tried hard to hold back the sadness of his emotions. “I don’t understand. How come we made it, when so many others died?” Nervously he began to laugh, in an awkward attempt to hold back the tears. “There were far better men than me on that ship…how come I made it?”

Ward couldn’t help but pity this man, for he knew very well what Davis, and all of these washed up soldiers were going through. “You know…I used to be a sailor under the English Navy back in the days of the great war.”

Caught off guard by his previous judgement of the old man, Carpenter’s attention suddenly shifted to Ward. For once his arrogant facial expression was replaced with that of surprise and curiosity. “Really? You served in her majesty’s navy? Where?”

“I sailed on the mightiest vessel of the Royal Fleet: The Poseidon!”

After that odd statement the atmosphere of the room turned, and all men with even some knowledge of maritime history turned their heads to this mysterious old fisherman with only one eye and a very visible limp. “You were on the Poseidon?” Seymour asked with a vocal expression one could only assume was the equivalent of shock and awe.

“….What’s the Poseidon?” Burns awkwardly asked.

Carpenter retorted with disgust immediately “Only the greatest ship ever built in the British navy!”

“Well if it’s so great than why haven’t I heard of it, asshole?”

“Because she sank.” Ward bluntly responded. “Aye…. she lies at the bottom of the channel.”

“How did it happen?”

Ward stood up and turned away from the group of men, drinking the rest of his soup before throwing it back in the pot. Images of the event were still fresh in the back of his mind. He could still recall the violent crashing noise the torpedo made on impact, and the screams of a hundred sailors muffled beneath the sound of metal bending and twisting under the pressure of the water.

“The same way your ship did. We were at a location unknown to the rest of the fleet trying to be sneaky, when a fucking German submarine sank us in the middle of the night when we least expected it.”

“But.” Ward raised up a single finger. “It’s not as simple as that. Those of us who survived the wreck later found out that we had been infiltrated. A German spy slipped into our ship unnoticed and relayed our location to the U-boats. Kraut bastard was one of the only few that survived the sinking since he knew it was coming.”

With the storm growing closer, thunder could be growing closer in the distance. A suspicious silence filled the cabin, and each man began to bat an eye at the other. At that very moment, it had just occurred that none of them had known each other’s names before then. They were all complete strangers, and lord knows what any of them could have been doing before the ship went down. In some of their minds, both of these ship’s tales were far too similar.

Thunder bellowed once again from outside, and waters outside grew more unwary with each passing minute. Finally, Private Burns was able to mount up the courage to speak and broke the tension in the air. “You… don’t think that… a spy sank us do you?”

“Maybe.” Seymour stated, as for once the always brash private Burns actually stated something that could be agreed with. “I suppose it’s possible. There weren’t supposed to be any U-boats in our vicinity from the intelligence reports.”

The boat began to rock more violently. Burns eyes intensified with his sudden realization, and his breathing became more sporadic. “What if….one of us isn’t who they claim to be?”

“No...” Ward immediately responded, batting his only eye toward the American. “You’re just being paranoid.”

“But it’s like what Seymour said! There’s just too many coincidences!” Burns suddenly stood up and guarded himself behind the chair. “If I find out any of ya’ll are a Nazi spy you’ll pay for it, I swear to Christ!”

Davis, unable to cope with anymore of the stress sank his face into his hands, and let out a deep sob. “Can this get any worse?”

A wave then bashed against the side of the vessel, sending a large splash of water across the deck. Violently each man was flung from their seat, and a hard rain began to pound against the top of the ship. “Enough!” Ward bashed his fist against the counter as he steadied himself. “In case you land-lovers forgot there’s a storm coming! If you want to survive I suggest you help me get the ship ready!”

The suggestion of the crew’s demise seemed to pacify all paranoia…for now. Everyone then split up to do their assigned duty. Burns, since he had little naval experience, was to stay beneath deck and work to lock up all the cabinets and cupboards. Davis, who had no background in sailing whatsoever, also was to stay below the deck and assist Ward with the engine when the time came. Seymour was to tidy up the upper deck with Carpenter, since they actually had sailing experience. Ward would then make sure that the engine was in proper condition whilst also taking shifts above and below deck to make sure everything was in order. So long as everyone stuck to the plan set in motion, things would work out fine. For a moment or so, it seemed like everything would alright. Then things took a turn for the worse.

It began when everyone was just out of each other’s view. The was a large bang on the front of the top deck, followed by a scream of pure anguish and desperation. Almost immediately everyone dropped what they were doing to investigate. Clasping onto the side rails of the rocking boat, each man brought themselves to the front of the ship. The first to arrive was Ward, followed by Davis, Burns, and then Carpenter…but Seymour was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Seymour?!” Davis cried through the hard rain.

“Fucking hell, he was just here!” Carpenter yelled out of shock.

Ward frantically scanned the deck, yet saw nothing. A sense of dread began to build in him, along with the rest of the crew. “You’re telling me, that nobody saw what happened to him?”

The rain continued to beat down against the four men as they stared at each other in utter disbelief. Soon, further investigation would grant the four their answer.

Burns gasped, then pointed to the far end of the ship where the waves were pounding over the edge. “Look over there! The safety rail broke!”

Sure enough, Burns observation was true. Upon the point where Seymour’s scream came from, there was a break in the line of safety railings of the upper deck. As the boat shifted to and fro from the waves, the fate of Captain Seymour became obvious.

Ward shivered from the cold rain. “The rail must’ve broke, and he was swallowed by the sea!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t something else… or someone else?” Davis questioned with fear beneath his breath.

“No!” Ward yelled furiously. “This ship is old; the rails couldn’t take his weight!”

Davis wrapped his hands around the safety railing even tighter, bracing against the harsh weather. “Think about it. No one saw it happen, it could have been any of us! The spy knows we’re onto him and wants us dead!”

“It was Carpenter!” Burns shouted, then pointed his finger at the accused. “He was the only one on deck with him, and I saw the way you were looking at him before!”

Carpenter grinded his teeth together in frustration. “You… How dare you?”

“Come anywhere near me Carpenter and I’ll gut you!”

“I swear to god!” Ward shouted at the two men. “If you two don’t knock it off then so help me I’ll –“

Ward’s words were cut short by a sudden booming noise, shaking the entire deck and nearly knocking the crew off of their feet. Holding dearly to the rails of the ship, Ward pulled himself up to his feet. In front of him smoke was rising from the doorway. For a moment he visibly panicked, physically stunned by the twisting turn of events. Deep in his mind he knew what the smoke was coming from, but he didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t, for it was a worst case scenario. Then suddenly, without word or warning, Ward charged into the smoke below deck eager to see what the damage was.

Burns and Carpenter charged behind Ward, determined not to let the ship sink. Meanwhile Davis just silently stood beneath the rain, wandering just what would go wrong next. Much like the rest of the group he was confused and anxious to find out what had just occurred. As the boat bounced along the rough waters of the Atlantic there became a more serious undertone to his already haunted thoughts: What if this is the end? Were they all doomed to an eternity at the bottom of the sea much like Seymour and the rest of the crew? Everyone on this ship was thinking it, Davis knew it.

Frantic shouting ascended from beneath the boards of the deck. Below the deck, as Davis would soon discover as he made his way to the stairs, the situation had very much become the worst scenario. Flames engulfed the engine room, and Ward scrambled frantically with the assistance of Burns and Carpenter behind him to ease the inferno. Wielding a single fire extinguisher, the trio fought as much of the flames as they could with the white haze from the extinguisher. At first it seemed hopeless, but through perseverance and a little time they eventually were able to put the fire at bay and extinguish it.

The aftermath of the fire was disheartening, to say the least. What used to be the engine was now a busted, charred clunk of steel. There would be no fixing this. Now the crew was at the mercy of the Atlantic herself, floating adrift in the volatile storm of a nearly endless sea. Burns loomed over the fragments of the engine. “First it was Seymour. Now this. Fuck, this kraut doesn’t want any of us to make it back.”

For the first time in a while, Carpenter did not criticize his American comrade. Instead he simply asked: “Where’s Davis?”

“Over here?” The Canadian responded with a suspicious tone.

Carpenter paced across the room to Davis, and with both of his hands he grabbed tightly around his jacket, thrusting him against the wall. “What in the bloody hell did you do to the engine?!”

Davis grabbed Carpenter’s hands, and tried to fight the Brit off, but Burns quickly came to the aid of Carpenter and put even more pressure upon him. “Fuck you two, I didn’t do anything!”

“Unlikely.” Carpenter’s grip tightened, and his blood boiled. He half a mind to start choking Davis if he didn’t start giving him the answers he wanted. “You’re the only one other than Ward who touched that engine, and I doubt a captain would break his own ship’s engine!”

“Yeah!” Burns added in. “And I didn’t see you helpin’ with the fire neither!”

“Talk Davis, are you a German?”

“Yeah, you a kraut!?”

Davis, now a broken, burst into tears as he gasped he breath against the pressure of the two men. “I didn….I di…I didn’t do anything!”

Burns released on hand from Davis, and quenched it into a fist. “I say we throw the fucker off the ship, same he did to Seymour!”

Out of sheer desperation, with his back against the wall, Davis violently shifted his head down, wrapped his hands around Burn’s left forearm, and bit down with all the strength he could muster onto the much larger man’s hand. Burns shrieked in agony, and Carpenter stared in sheer horror at the sight before him. Immediately Burns began bashing his free hand into Davis’s skull in an attempt to free himself, but Davis only clamped his jaw tighter with each blow. Blood trickled out of the edge of his lips, and flowed down his chin.

Ward could take this chaos no longer. Determined to take control of his ship back from this tide of paranoia, he reached his right hand down to his beltline. He unbuckled the top of his holster, and pulled out and old revolver, his trusted sidearm throughout his many years at sea. As Burns and Carpenter continued to try and thrash Davis, Ward raised his gun, pointing it toward the three. His heart was pounding frantically.

“I’ll kill you!” Burns screamed.

Ward suddenly pulled the hammer back, and his hand steadied. The audible click echoed throughout the lower deck, and halted the everyone dead in their tracks. It didn’t take a genius to realize who was now in control of this situation.

“They’ll be none of that!” Ward demanded. “Let go of each other now.”

They complied, and released each other. Davis spit Burn’s blood out of his mouth, and tried wiping what was left on his face off, though the skin was now stained with a deep red.

“Now hands up where I can see them!”

The three had no choice but to agree, and all raised up their hands. Davis and Burns stared at each other in mutual contempt while Carpenter looked fixedly upon Ward.

Ward then motioned his gun toward the furnace at the corner of the room. “Go there and sit down.”

Once again they complied, and begrudgingly sat down. Ward unlocked one of the cupboards, and pulled out a small first aid kit. He tossed it to Davis.

“You’re a medic, patch him up.”

Davis sniveled, as he tried to steady himself emotionally. The danger seemed almost never-ending. The storm, Carpenter, Davis, and now Ward. “Why should I?” he retorted.

“I’ll put in a bullet in yah’. Don’t think I won’t!”

Hands now tied, Davis opened the kit, and pulled out the bandages and other appropriate means. Hesitantly he began to bandage the damaged hand of Burns.

“Who do you think it is Ward?” Carpenter asked. “Who do you think is the spy?”

“For the last time,” Ward replied. “there’s no spy!”

“Then how do you explain Seymour? The engine?” Carpenter antagonized. “Coincidences?”

Thunder was growing was in the background, and violently the ship was jolted by a wave, tossing everyone to the left. With every passing minute the storm continued to get worse. Ward steadied himself against a wall, keeping the gun pointed the entire time. “The weather is bad, and the ship is old.”

The British lieutenant shook his head in disbelief. “It’s awfully convenient that the captain of our previous vessel, the only man who could confirm out stories about what our units were doing on that ship, is now probably at the bottom of the ocean. That and an engine that probably was sabotaged makes a strong case.”

“A why would he destroy the engine, Carpenter? That’s his only way of getting back to shore!”

“Maybe he knows he’ll be discovered, and that he won’t make it back to shore. Might as well not let anyone else back to shore and jeopardize the entire operation of espionage.”

Ward just shook his head. “When the storm passes and we’ll radio for help. We’re not completely forsaken.”

Burns, with his hand finally bandaged, quickly backed his chair away from both Davis and Carpenter. “One of these two is the spy! Shit, maybe they both are spies!”

Carpenter, filled with disgust, turned to the man who was just minutes ago helping him apprehend who they thought was the spy. “Both of us? I’m trying to help you!”

“Don’t listen to either of these men!” Davis pleaded. “Ward, Carpenter’s the spy! He’s been pulling our strings this entire time and he’s trying to do it now! He wanted attention off himself so he can pick us off one by one!”

“Stop it!” Ward yelled.

“He was the last one to show up when Davis vanished! I bet he snuck below deck and rigged the thing to blow thinking we’d be in there soon!”

Davis then turned his bloodied face to Davis. “That is unless this asshole’s been playing stupid this whole time and is actually fluent in German!”

“I swear to god, I’m going to shoot the next man who talks about this spy nonsense!”

That statement seemed to tame the three of them, at least for now. Ward, whose old bones were exhausted from all of the excitement leaned up against his counter, gun still out and ready to shoot anyone who didn’t oblige to his orders. With that nonsense hopefully behind them, he gently released the hammer to avoid any misfires and ease the atmosphere a bit. Now his primary worry was the storm. His plan originally was to pick up any survivors of the wreck and drive out of the storm, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen now. As time grew on the storm only became more untamed, and boat continued to toss and turn with each passing wave. Truly they were at the mercy of the elements. Things were bearable up until around midnight. At that point they were under the barrage of constant thunder and lightning. Though it was the dead of night, the surrounding waters were perfectly illuminated by a ceiling of lightning. All around them was an endless amount of sea, rocking with the seeming intent on flipping the ship. It was as if the Atlantic was a living, breathing creature, and they were simply an insect on its back, waiting to be swatted off.

No one spoke, each man only had the company of their thoughts. Some, like Davis were frantically hoping for things to improve. In his eyes, the walls of the ever so small cabin were becoming smaller with each passing minute. There were plenty of places, he’d rather be than next to the two men who had just tried to kill him. If he wasn’t thinking about what either Carpenter or Blackburn could do before Ward shot them with his gun, then he was mourning over all of his friends stuck inside the hull of their previous ship at the bottom of the ocean. Burns was also frightened, but he tried not to let it bother him. At this moment he couldn’t afford to look weak, not when someone hid in the shadows waiting to strike. Closing his eyes, he faked sleep hoping that someone would make a move, and that something would happen to give clarity to the situation. But they all knew he was awake.

Carpenter was not like the others. His focus was now on the old Irish captain of the ship, Ward. At the moment, Ward was god. He held power over all their lives with a single tool: That gun. In the flash of an instant this old man could drop all them with some bullets to spare for himself, and that didn’t sit well with Carpenter.

Another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, followed by a crack of thunder. From out of the blue, the boat was jostled partially to its side by an abnormally large wave, knocking everyone flat on their sides. This included the aged Ward, whose aches and pains were overturned by the sound of his revolver bouncing across the ground right to the middle of the small corridor. Ward panicked, as everyone realized what had just happened. He tried to get to the gun as fast as he could, but was too late. Carpenter’s youth and strength had overcome Ward’s age and experience, as Burns didn’t realize what had happened since his eyes were shut and Davis was just simply too far.

Carpenter pressed the barrel of the gun against Ward’s scarred and wrinkled forehead “I’m in charge now, old man.” He pulled the hammer back. It’s familiar click once again established order in the room. “Get to the corner with the other two. Now!”

Ward, with no other choice limped over to the others, taking a seat as far away as he could from Davis and Burns.

“Let’s talk about you, Ward.” Carpenter questioned. “What’s an old man like you doing so far out at sea, alone?”

“Bollocks! You can’t be serious?”

“I won’t hesitate to kill you, Captain.”

“I barely have enough money to keep this rusted tub afloat, can’t afford a crew, boy.”

“Well why are you all the way out here in the middle of the Atlantic?”

In this moment Ward had realized that now the attention of the entire group was fixated on him, and not Carpenter rather. Both Davis and Burns were now watching him, as if he were some sort of criminal. Pausing, he waited for the thunder to set before he answered.

“This area is my normal fishing spot. Most don’t dare to go out this far, I do. Heard yah’ distress call, did my patriotic duty to fish your arses out of the cold black water.”

Burns chimed in: “Or you’re a ride for the spy to rendezvous with.”

Ward shook his head, and began to pull tightly against his beard. “This is rubbish!”

Upon hearing that statement, Carpenter lowered his gun, and thought for a few moments. His eyes circled around the room, thinking of what the next best course of action would be. There was an unnerving calmness to him, while he was anxious, the situation hadn’t got the best of him yet like it had to Davis or Burns.

“There really is no way of telling if there’s a spy or not, is there Ward? I mean, if you are right, and this is rubbish, then we’re just being paranoid. But, if Burns and Davis are right and one of us is a spy, there’s also no way of telling. Everyone is suspicious, yet everyone has an apparent alibi.”

“What of you?!” Davis challenged. “You have the gun, so if you’re the spy and are going to kill us there’s no point in hiding it!”

“I’m no spy. But I do have a plan, and you’re not going to like it.”

Anxiously, the three waited to hear what Lieutenant Carpenter had cooked up.

“All three of you are going to march to the deck of the ship, where you will remain until we get help.”

The three gasped at this death sentence. “The storm’s growing worse, you’ll kill us! Swept away to sea!” Ward pleaded in desperation.

Carpenter backed away from the stairs leading to the top deck. “It’s either that or I shoot you. Your decision.”

“No, no, no!” Davis cried, “You can’t do this to us!”

Carpenter just shook his head, and pointed to the stairs. They could either die a quick death by a gunshot down below deck, or climb outside where they face an almost certain and painful death in the cold frigid waters of the ocean. However, there was still a chance they could ride out the storm and make it. With reluctance, the three made their way to the stairs. Ward said nothing, he wouldn’t give Carpenter the satisfaction. Burns followed behind Ward, ashamed that he didn’t see this coming. He’d underestimated Carpenter, and was going to pay for it. Davis, following behind Burns looked the worst of the three. He was pale as death, and visibly trembling from all the stress. Of all three to head up, he went the slowest up the stairs.

Outside was even worse than they could have imagined. The wind was so powerful it could blow you off the deck with just the slightest fall, the rain was so fierce it felt like it was going to rip your skin off, and the constant thunder and lightning assaulted the senses, leaving a constant ringing in the ears. If that didn’t get them off the ship, then the waves would. Constantly the boat was being battered back and forth by the waves, forcing the men to hold onto anything they could that was held into the boat, whether it be rails, benches, or even the steering wheel of the ship. They all knew within their first minute that they would not make it through the night. Eventually their strength would give out, or the rails of the aged ship would break from the strain. That’s only if they weren’t swept away by a rogue wave beforehand. Something needed to be done, and fast. Ward looked to Burns and Davis.

“We can’t stay up here!”

“What?” They screamed through the storm back at him.

“WE CAN’T STAY OUT HERE!” Ward screamed through the storm at them.

The two men remained frozen to their posts. Someone might be plotting to push any of them off the edge at any moment, and they weren’t about to let their guard down. “He’ll kill us!” Burns screamed back. Davis remained silent, focused only on holding onto his railing and not letting go under any circumstance.

All alone, Ward steadied himself over to the door, grabbing onto anything nearby for stability. Slowly he grabbed onto the door handle, trying not to alert Carpenter. For a moment, he looked over at the other two to see if maybe any of them had changed their minds. They hadn’t, and simply were watching him. Beneath the constant winds attacking him, Ward tried to catch his breath and ready himself. There was no telling where Carpenter would be down there. He could be in the main room, or aside in the engine room. Perhaps he was in the doorway just waiting for Ward to open the door. No matter how Ward played out the scenario in his head, he just couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling. But never mind that now. 3…. 2… 1… Ward heaved open the door, immediately greeted by two loud gunshots. Two bullets went straight into his chest, their warped hot metal carving a path through his insides and burning out his life candle. He just stood there for a moment or so, realizing what had just occurred. Then without warning, he collapsed onto the deck. His blood flowed across the deck like a small river. As the wind and waves began to push him to the ledge, Ward raised his head to the two men, and reached out his hand toward them.

“Help” His lips motioned. “Help me!”

The door slammed shut. Burns and Davis remained petrified to their rails. They were still too terrified to move. After another moment or so Ward’s head dropped, and slammed against the deck in defeat.

“The end is nigh!” He cried with his every last bit of breathe.

“The end….is nigh….”

A wave struck against the ship, rattling the three men. Ward slipped off the deck and into the mouth of the Atlantic, never to be seen again….

“You killed him!” Davis screamed through the storm at the door. “You actually killed him!” Then, from out of the blue, the once silent Burns let out a bloodcurdling scream unlike anything Davis had ever heard from him.

“My god!” Burns pointed in the distance. “We’re dead!”

It wasn’t apparent until another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky what was in the distance. At first, it seemed like just a lump of black surrounded by the shadows of the night. Could be another wave, or perhaps some debris from the ship. Only when another cluster of lightning illuminated the area, did Davis realize what he was staring at. Moving toward the ship was the largest wave any of these men had ever seen in their life. Its black waters, the size of buildings, moved towards them all so silently, like a killer moving in on its victim. The Atlantic had finally made its move, and the sailors were in checkmate.

Both men frantically screamed, yet it did nothing. The ship was taken up by the rogue wave, raising the front of the ship higher and higher until they were completely vertical. Then, the wave slowly tipped the ship on its back; both men were now hanging in the air from their rails. Davis, knowing that their time on this ship was up, released himself from the rails and plunged his body back into the water. Burns on the other hand did not think so quick, and was paralyzed inside the jaws of the behemoth before it closed its mouth on the ship and slammed its gargantuan weight against the hull

The impact felt like a freight train on Davis, blunt force pain shook through his entire body, and the bitterly cold water squeezed the air out of his lungs; But he was alive. He clawed his way through the water, and fought to the surface. Gasping for air, he searched for what was left of Ward’s ship. It took a few moments, but eventually he saw an upside-down ship no more than a hundred meters away.

With all the adrenaline in his system he swam, like he had never swum before, as fast as he could to the boat to see if anyone had lived. Each wave he fought, and as he inched closer and closer he could hear the screams of Burns growing louder and louder.

“Help me, someone help me! I can’t move, I can’t move!”

“I’m coming!” Davis yelled back. “Hold on!”

Davis now close enough to hear Burns splashing, and to hear water beginning to muffle his screams. After finally making it to the ship, he swam around it, following Burn’s voice. To his horror he would find Burns, covered from head to toe in fishing nets previously secured to the deck. Burns turned and waded through the water the best he could, but each movement only made the nets grow tighter and tighter. With the fingers he could slip through, Burns lunged out and grabbed onto Davis.

“Get me out of here man,” He cried. ”Please god get me out of here!” Just then Davis came to the haunting realization the he could do absolutely nothing. He had no knives, no tools to untangle this man. There was just not enough time to do it by hand. Making matters worse, as Burns held on the netting that trapped him was beginning to entangle Davis as well, with his legs caught in the tangled mess. Burn’s weight started to pull him down. The two men struggled for a minute, before Davis knew he couldn’t bare it any longer. With his head now barely above the water, he knew he had to get Burns off of him. “I’m sorry…” He said. “I’m so sorry!”

“What?” Burns responded desperately. “What are you talking about?”

Davis dug his fingers into Burns’s bite wound on his hand, and started pushing him off. He could not kick Davis off, or his legs would get even more entangled. Slowly he started working his legs out of the netting.

“No!” Davis screamed in pain, between his heaves for breath from both the water and tears. “Don’t do this! Please god”

Both men’s heads were plunged under by the waves. They were close enough to the surface to get a faint breath but it was barely enough. However, one of Davis’s legs were almost free. No matter how hard Davis tried he just couldn’t get Burns off of him. Their combined weights sunk them deeper and deeper. Out of desperation Davis struck Burns across the head. It didn’t do anything at first, so Davis struck him again and again. Burns kept screaming “No, no, no,” repeatedly through the water, doing everything his now limited capabilities to hold onto Davis. Now, roughly 5 meters away from the surface and sinking, Davis’s air was starting to run out. He hadn’t the strength to pull himself up any higher. In one last ditch effort, he struck burns as hard as he could across the face with his left hand, and finally got one of his legs free. With one fluid motion, He kicked Burns away and swam back up to the surface, cursing his former comrade to a watery grave.

Davis heaved in and out for air, he’d thought he might have died down there. He looked down in the water to see if he could find Burns, but it was too dark. Beside him now was what remained of the ship: Just the hull upside down. Four loud bangs, like gunshots could be heard through the siding of the ship. Carpenter was still alive, and trapped down there! Now he was faced with a choice between life and death: Either let the boat sink, and drown the man who’d condemned him to death, or risk his life to save him. As he debated, he could not shake the images of Burns’s demise still flashing in his mind. The screams….his eyes….

“Damn it…” Davis vocalized to himself. Deep down he knew he was going to regret this. He grabbed a piece of debris floating nearby and banged it against the side of the hull, nearest to where he heard the gunshots. “Carpenter!” He shouted, banging harder against the side. “I’m coming down!”.

Determined not have anyone else die on his watch, Davis tried to muster up the courage to go down and open the door. It was doubtful that Carpenter had actually heard anything else other than the bangs, but it was better than nothing. A moment or two passed, before he inhaled as much air as he could, and dived down.

The waters were cold and dark. Davis could barely make out the details of the ship as he swam under it and had to go by memory. Feeling the deck boards, he made his way to where he thought the door was. As he got closer, a force of suction was growing stronger. He followed the moving water until it led him right to the door. Legs pressed up on the side, he resisted the suction while pulling against the door handle with all his might. Nothing.

He tried pulling it at another angel, and still nothing. The force of the water was just too much to open the door. Frustrated he kicked the door a few times to see if he could break it, but nothing. Then, just when his air was running low and he was about to lose hope he felt a series of large pushes from the other side of the door. That had to be carpenter. Timing with Carpenter’s force, Davis gave one last heave and the door jutted open just enough for an arm to slip out. Immediately Davis grabbed it, and pulled against it.

From out of the darkness Carpenter emerged. Davis, still holding onto his hand, led him out from under the ship. At this point the weight of the ship was now sucking all of the water down with it, but with the two of them kicking together they overcame the suction, and made it back to the surface.

Both men gasped for air. They were now caught in a sailor’s worst nightmare. No ship, no feeling left in their fingers from the cold water, and no rescue in sight. The waves tossed them up and down, side to side, while sending chills through their bodies. In this moment, as both men caught their breath Carpenter turned to Davis.

“Were you a spy?”

Davis stared at him blankly, almost in disbelief. “No! I’m not a spy!”

Carpenter’s face for the first time showed fear. “Do you think anyone was a spy?”

“None of that matters now. The end is nigh.” 