Page 13 of Sink With Me

Placing my headphones on I don’t even acknowledge Rosalie as I follow my usual routine of sliding into the backseat. Only difference is that now, I’m the one to push the button that places the divider between us and as the car moves off, I feel the anxiety that has decided to make its home in my chest. Karma didn’t have to take it that far, but now I know her voice will be repeating my exact fear for the duration of the journey, and I pray the music will create an alternate reality for myself where I don’t have to think of what’s coming next.

Date: 4-26-2024

Time: 0801

Okay, so I hate the ocean and the sky and planes and ferris wheels. Have I mentioned I’m fucking terrified of ships, too? The sheer size of them, the way they supposedly just…float? It gives me the creeps. To make matters worse, the weather went from fairly calm to a scene out of a horror movie.

I look at the swaying death trap before me, the metal moaning as it moves under the strain of the wind, and acid starts to burn my throat. You know in those movies how people walk in slow motion before a dramatic life change… it’s not just a scene, it’s so much more. I know because it’s how I am right now. Each step feels like my foot is stuck in tar as the wind lashes around me, whipping my ponytail into my face, encouraging the rain to batter any exposed skin. The sky is dark and haunting.

“Cordi!”

One eyebrow raises in intrigue as I turn to see Dutton walking in my direction. James is holding a large umbrella to shield his superior from the weather. This is unusual for him, says it’s beneath us to bother with send offs for ‘as long as the job gets done right, we will see each other again’.

Before I can process his movements, arms are engulfing my shoulders, and the powerful scent of his cologne is almost knocking me out. I can’t think straight. His hands clamp down on me so hard I feel my feet sink into the soaked slabs of the dock. Is it hollow beneath me? Has the sea water eroded away a hole that I am going to fall into and drown? I needed space, I needed… air. Fresh air. Suddenly it feels like even the weather was closing in around me, despite the fact James now held the umbrella over us both. The wind continues to whirl around us.

“Just thought I’d see you off and congratulate you on facing your fears. Your parents… they’d be so proud right now.” His tone is reverent. I hate proximity and physical touch, especially with him, but right now I want to drop my bag to the ground, wrap my arms back around him, and accept his comfort fully knowing he’s probably the closest thing to a parent I’ll ever get again, despite how complicated our relationship is. But I can’t.

“Thank you.”

With a final harsh pat on my shoulders, Dutton's hands glide down his designer suit, ridding his palm from the water it had accumulated off my clothes with a small grimace. I blink a few times as I step back, trying to keep my building irritation in check. A soldier comes hurling to my side, hair sticking to his brows and head downcast to keep the rain from blinding him. I hand him my bag, envying how he quickly darts off back into the shelter of the ship.

“Remember to get the job done no matter what.” I know what Dutton’s implying. “They are the enemies. They’re manipulative and well-knowledgeable. You can’t let anything cloud your vision.” His eyes are empty as he peers over my shoulder, and nods to whatever soldier is back there. I’m sure deep, deep down, it bothers him, knowing whose lives were lost in the same form of transportation that I’m now taking. At least we aren't arguing like he was with my mother before she boarded.

Unlike my parents however, I’m determined to actually accomplish what they set out to do. Even if that means I’ll have to haunt Depths shores after I sink to the bottom just to ensure Bay’s legacy lives on.

I’ve never been one for goodbyes. I guess that’s why I turn without saying it, each step resuming as a struggle to move, with my arm raised to my forehead to combat the storm. The soldier standing at the boarding ramp has his hands behind his back and chin tilted up towards the sky like he is soaking up the horrid weather as he peers down his nose at me. This is the army I hold in my hands, ready and willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish the goal, no matter the consequences.

The waves crash between the ramp and dock, the sight makes my tactical gear unnaturally heavy despite my body being more than adjusted to weight. At least it doesn’t smell awful here, it just smells like wet tarmac and seaweed. I think back to him. By this time, in a few short days, I’ll have him begging for forgiveness for all the damage his father did.

Maybe Karma was right, and I just need to get laid, get my mind off him for a bit. I shouldn’t be obsessing so hard over the devil reincarnated, but it’s the years I’ve spent demolishing everything that surrounds him that affords him a sizable plot within my mind, tangled up with that constant anxiety in my chest.

Making my way around the dock, I hide under an awning close to the bow. I’m not bold enough to stand anywhere near the middle of the deck but I’ll admit, as scary as it feels to look out to the water knowing that I’m willingly floating into Depth territory, it’s also kind of beautiful.

One thought that rings louder than the rest; will the world still be like this when I’ve accomplished my mission, and his blood is just another to be washed from my hands?

Date: 4-27-2024

Time: 1841

I lied about fucking a recruit, especially when I’ve only been on this boat for 24-hours and have thrown up more times than I can count. Miles into the water with no land in sight, and no boats passing, we’re all alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing to distract me from the thought. At least it’s not storming anymore.

The team is loud over the whistling of the boat’s engine, cheering and laughing with the deck of cards one of them brought to distract themselves. We tend to stay too immersed in the fact we’re trained killers and forget we were once normal people with normal lives. It’s refreshing to hear them actually enjoying time with each other, even if it’s a sound I’m not used to. Typically, when I am around others I’m training and preparing them for every possibility of what they could encounter during their service with us. Most have never seen an enemy in a form other than a punching bag or target or colleague. Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen any of this team actually fight anything. Dutton had me running around doing too much of his dirty work lately. It makes me worry if we will succeed or not. But my worrisome thoughts are washed away by another aggressive wave of nausea. I lean over the side of the boat, hands wrapped around the rail in a death grip, desperate not to fall over with the remnants of the meal I just ate.

The ocean is dark, really fucking dark. No matter how long I stare at it I still don't find comfort and, in the night, when the sun sinks below the horizon, it becomes harder to distinguish sky from sea. It’s just one endless black hole, too deep, too vast and holding far too many secrets.

“How are we holding up there, Captain?” I cringe as the deep raspy voice rumbles behind me. I rarely ever hear my rank, but when I do, it’s never in these circumstances. Straightening my shoulders, I wipe my mouth with the back of my arm but don’t consider turning just out of fear that I'll empty my stomach all over the deck instead. I’m sure I’m not the first captain in history whose subordinate has seen them throw up but that doesn't mean I want to be added to that list.

“I’m fine.” My mouth tastes sour and is drier than the desert. I desperately run my tongue against my dehydrated lips as I form words whilst fighting another round of the mouth sweats. “Go enjoy the time… with the team… Sergeant.”

It is a guess at his rank, but he doesn’t correct me. After a few deep breaths to suppress the ever-strengthening urge to be sick again, I glance over my shoulder. It’s the same man who was guarding the boat when I first arrived. He still holds the blank stare in his eyes somewhat marred with the type of vagueness only alcohol would bring.

His teeth show, but I can hardly count the look as a smile when it doesn’t reach the rest of his features. “I think I’d rather enjoy the view. Besides, it’s not every day we get to work with the mysterious Shark.”

I all but ignore him and turn back towards the water with a solemn nod. He takes it as an invitation, coming to stand at the rail beside me. The deep crescents under his eyes tempt me to say he should go get some rest, but that’d be rude, so instead we fall into a comfortable silence.

I don’t care about the time, it’s not like I’d be able to sleep anyway. I’ve tried to close my eyes, but even when I blink, I envision the boat going under. I can almost feel my lungs filling with water. My chest rattles with panic, my heart beats a little faster as I stare into the abyss.

“Do you think he knows we’re coming?”

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