Page 35 of Firefly

He twisted the bars until the door latch lifted and pushed it open, slipping out of the container. A gale of wind caught the door, swinging it wide as a wave crashed over the ship’s deck.

The sky was dark with clouds, and rain pelted him at a severe angle. The ship continued to rock violently as smaller containers crashed into one another.

Grabbing the railing, he bent into the wind, making his way to the bridge. He wrenched the door open and was thrown against the wall as another violent wave tilted the ship dangerously.

Peering through fogged glass, ice ran down his spine as wave after wave crashed over the water, each more enormous than the last. It was evident the crew had abandoned ship some time ago.

He left the bridge, going back to the cargo container where the men were still huddled inside. He swung his arms in a wide circle, beckoning them to follow. They linked arms and slid across the space until they reached the open door.

“Follow me and hang on!” he shouted, and Williams nodded, leading the men over the deck. A wave crashed against the ship's side, and someone screamed as the world tilted before the boat slammed down onto the water, righting itself.

All eighty-nine men made it to the bridge and filed in, Simon pulling the door shut behind them.

Inside, they watched as the dark sky somehow grew darker, several men folding their hands in prayer while others wrapped their arms around handholds, trying to stay upright.

A man, Thomas was his name, retched in the corner. Several others followed.

Simon watched helplessly as the men who had survived more than twelve months of torture fought for their lives yet again.

Tendrils of pre-dawn light clawed their way through thick mist as morning approached. Simon gazed around the bridge at the luckiest group of men he’d ever known. They were tired, cold, and smelled awful, but they were alive.

“Can you see if anyone knows how to navigate this ship?” he asked Williams, who was looking a little green around the edges.

“We’re a group of sharp-witted men. By the time you return, we’ll be on English soil.”

Simon nodded, a new sensation creeping over him. The magic that bound him was fighting for control; it didn’t like where he was going. His last thought before he left his body for the day was to wonder why he hadn’t felt it pulling him before.

Chapter 26

Simon

Simon rose to a smell that nearly had him gagging. He stepped around piles of drying vomit and out onto the deck. Men had shirts wrapped around their heads, arms, and legs, staring listlessly at the flat line of aquamarine encircling them.

Finding Williams, he stopped beside him. “No luck navigating?”

Williams shook his head. “These men are army soldiers. They don’t know the first thing about navigating by sea. We’ve been taking turns watching for land and headed in a straight direction, but we saw nothing all day, and we haven’t found water.” His voice was strained, and his shoulders were a line of tension.

Simon trailed his gaze across the endless blue horizon, searching for any sign of the direction they should be heading. The men wouldn’t last long without water, and their bandaged bodies had injuries that would fester if untreated.

“We need to divide the duties between the men. Some should be tending the wounded, others scouting, and some can search below decks for food or water.”

Williams leaned into the railing. “Did all that today. We found ten cans of beans and a shitload of rifles. No water, no medical supplies. The men ate the beans. They were already so hungry.”

The need to go left was a pressing ache in Simon’s skull, making it difficult to concentrate. It was possible going in the opposite direction would lead them to safety, but it could also mean days of drifting at sea. Days the men didn’t have.

“We should go that way.” Simon pointed toward the invisible destination he was being pulled to.

Williams didn’t argue. He turned, barking orders at several men, and soon, the ship was turning, moving in the direction Simon was so desperate to go.

On their new course, the pressure in his skull eased, and he took a deep breath.

Night stretched on, and men found places to settle down to sleep as Simon watched for land. He feared their new heading even as every hour brought relief from the oppressive hold of Alexander’s magic.

Late into the night, something flashed in the dark.

“Brown! Come quick!” Brown and several other men gathered beside him as a glittering port came into view, and several men hugged one another in relief.

They were tired, dehydrated, and needed medical attention, but they would reach land before dawn, and it was the best outcome Simon could have hoped for.

---