Page 62 of Whispers and Warriors
“Some weather we’re having, huh?” an unfamiliar voice drawled beside him.
William tensed, his hand instinctively twitching toward his weapon as he turned to face the stranger. The man leaned casually against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and assessing.
“Can’t complain,” William replied evenly, his own gaze unwavering as he sized up the newcomer who also had a gun,leaving William hoping he was another guard and not a problem. “Beats the alternative off the ship.”
The man chuckled, but there was no real humor in the sound. “Ain’t that the truth.”
William kept his face carefully neutral, even as unease prickled along his spine. He hadn’t seen this man before, and new faces seemed impossible on a ship after two weeks.
“Don’t think I’ve seen you around,” William said, keeping his tone light and conversational. “You new to guard duty?”
The man shrugged one shoulder. “You could say that. Just passing through, really. My wife is in there, I wasn’t thrilled letting her out of my sight so I signed up to help.”
William’s instincts that screamed that something was off shifted because he understood what the man must be going through.
“Well, welcome to guard duty, I guess,” William said, extending a hand. “I’m William.”
The man hesitated a beat before grasping William’s hand in a firm shake. “John,” he said simply.
As they released their grip, William couldn’t shake the feeling that “John” was not being entirely truthful. But he simply nodded, turning back to his watchful position over the lunch area.
He couldn’t see into the mess hall, but the only door was right beside him, so he wasn’t too bothered that guard duty was outside—even if Chris has been.
The ship rocked gently beneath his feet, the crash of waves against the hull a soothing rhythm that had become as familiar to William as his heartbeat. He let his gaze drift over the horizon, the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before them, endless and unchanging leaving him wondering if they truly every would get where they were going.
It was almost easy to forget, in moments like these, the horrors that lurked beyond the safety of the ship. The toxin, the violence, the countless lives lost... Here, with the salt spray on his face and the sun warm on his skin, William could almost pretend that the world hadn’t ended.
Almost.
But even as he savored the brief reprieve, a sense of unease coiled in his gut. It was too quiet, too calm. In William’s experience, moments like these never lasted long.
Beside him, John shifted his weight, his posture too casual, too at ease. William’s hand twitched toward his weapon, an instinct honed by years of fighting to survive.
“So,” John drawled, breaking the silence. “You permanent on this floating tin can or passing through like my wife and I?”
William shrugged, his eyes never leaving the horizon. “Guess you’ll find out in a few weeks.”
“Secrets to keep?” John chuckled.
“I just don’t need to speak to strangers. I have my unit and you’re not part of it.”
John held up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, man. Just making conversation.”
But before William could respond, a piercing scream shattered the tranquility, the sound ripping through the air like a gunshot. In an instant, William was in motion, his body coiled tight as he spun toward the sound, his hand already reaching for his weapon.
His heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline surging through his veins as his mind raced with a single, desperate thought.
Emma.
A second later a thunderous explosion tore through the ship, sending shockwaves that knocked William off his feet. The deck bucked and twisted violently beneath him, threatening to hurl him into the chaos. He fought desperately to stand back uprightas the world spun wildly, a cacophony of alarms piercing the air, blending with the terrified screams and frantic shouts of the crew scrambling in desperation.
His eyes caught sight of the problem even as his brain swore the ship was flipping in circles.
Smoke billowed from the stern, the acrid stench burning William’s nostrils as he fought to stay upright. His eyes watered, his lungs burning with each ragged breath.
Beside him, John rose to his feet and cursed, his face ashen. “What the hell was that?”
But William barely heard him.
