Page 58 of Whispers and Warriors
It was time for a change in attitude. Mind over matter to hopefully improve everything from here on out. But that didn’t stop him from thinking the thoughts.
Emma sighed. “Slow. They’re doing it one by one instead of in groups based on where people are working.”
Chris bit back a scoff. Tedious and inefficient. If the captain weren’t saving their collective asses, he’d march over there and reorganize this for her. It didn’t matter how many runs she’d made. She wasted time and kept everyone out on the deck. What if the rare plane or helicopter did still exist and flew overhead? What if other ships had their telescopes trained on the water?
And there went positive thinking.
He wouldn’t speak to the captain unless his concerns grew out of control, but damn if the urge wasn’t strong.
“Hey.” Liam’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder. “Let it go, man. We’re all tired and hungry. No need to make waves.”
Chris met his friend’s steady gaze and felt the tension bleed from his frame. Liam was right, as usual. Antagonizing theirhosts would only risk the tentative safety they’d found so he’d keep his opinion to himself. For Emma’s sake, if nothing else.
“Yeah, alright.” He blew out a breath. “Guess we hurry up and wait, then.”
Emma reached out to scratch Ranger behind the ears, her delicate fingers brushing Chris’s chest. Even that small touch ignited sparks across his skin. What he wouldn’t give to pull her into his arms, bury his face in her hair like last night.
“Chris? You still with us?” Amusement tinged Bash’s voice.
Heat crawled up Chris’s neck. “What? Yeah, I’m good.” He straightened, searching for a distraction.
The line seemed to go forever, but he appreciated at least that they didn’t just call names out and reveal identities if people didn’t want them revealed.
Chris stepped forward as the crew member with the tablet approached. The woman, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, glanced up at him. “Name and skill set?”
“Chris. Security and tactical.”
“Bash, what he said, but better.”
Chris wanted to roll his eyes but kept his gaze steady.
She nodded, tapping on the screen. “Kitchen security duty for you two.” She pointed to Bash. “And the dog stays behind.”
Emma reached for Ranger’s leash, her fingers grazing Chris’s as she took it from him. “I’ve got him. He can keep me company.”
The crew member frowned. “Actually, we need you helping with childcare. And you two,” she pointed at Alex and Liam, “will be assigned separately. One to navigation, the other to engineering.”
Chris’s jaw tightened. “That’s not going to work for us. Our female stays with at least two of us at all times. Non-negotiable and already accepted by Captain Novak.”
The woman’s eyes widened, darting between them. “I... I don’t think we can accommodate that. Space is limited, and we need to maximize efficiency.”
“Then make it work.” Chris crossed his arms, his tone brooking no argument. “We’re here to help, but not at the expense of our own safety protocols.”
Bash stepped up beside him, a silent wall of support. The crew member swallowed, her fingers hovering over the tablet. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, you two head to the galley. I’ll escort the others to their assignments and sort this out with the captain.”
Chris nodded, holding her gaze until she looked away. He only didn’t follow because Liam’s promise still hung between them. He wouldn’t let anything get between him and Emma.
As the woman led the others off, he turned to Bash. “Let’s go. The sooner we get this shift over with, the sooner we can regroup.”
They followed another crew member through the narrow corridors, the metal walls pressing in on them. Chris’s mind raced, strategies and contingencies tumbling through his thoughts. He needed to make sure Emma was safe, that their group remained cohesive. Splitting up, even temporarily, felt like a risk he wasn’t willing to take even if he’d agreed to it on no sleep yesterday.
They entered through the galley, the door swinging open, unveiling a bustling kitchen alive with activity. Dozens of crew members moved in a well-practiced, choreographed dance, each step precise and purposeful. They stirred steaming pots that bubbled with savory aromas that reminded Chris of Thanksgiving, chopped vibrant vegetables with swift, rhythmic motions, and artfully plated meals with the finesse of seasoned chefs. The clatter of dishes echoed through the space, a harmonious accompaniment to the sizzle and pop of fryingfood, which added a lively, crackling soundtrack. All of this was underscored by the steady hum of conversation, a comforting murmur that wove through the kitchen like a familiar melody.
“Right, you two are security detail.” Their escort had to shout to be heard over the noise. “Make sure no one unauthorized comes in, and keep an eye out for any potential issues. The last thing we need is a fight breaking out over rations.”
Chris nodded, surveying the room. It wasn’t the kind of security he was used to, but he could see the importance. On a ship like this, with limited resources and high tensions, even a small disruption could escalate quickly.
Bash leaned in, his voice low. “Guess we’re glorified hall monitors now. Never thought I’d miss the days of perimeter patrols and supply runs.”
