2076 by Stephen G Mitchell

Author:Stephen G Mitchell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, thrillers, science fiction, dystopian, science fiction fantasy, supense thrillers
Publisher: Stephen G Mitchell

CHAPTER 18

EYE OF THE BITCH

As told by Carlin Pheney:

Our sturdy trawler plunged headfirst into the building waves as we cleared the southern tip of Arcos Key and turned southwest on a course that I hoped would take us out of the path of the oncoming storm. By nightfall the seas had grown to over fifteen feet and we were wallowing in the troughs, the waves hitting us on the beam and rolling us side to side in a sickening motion. Aelena was below in the galley trying to make supper and growing increasingly frustrated with getting thrown around. Finally she gave up, microwaved some soup, struggled up the ladder with two sloshing bowls and handed me one. I activated the autopilot and we sat in the pilothouse spooning hot broth into our mouths while eyeing the weather.

“I’ll take the first watch,” I said. “Try and get some sleep. I’ll get you up at midnight.”

“I probably should have told you. I never learned to swim.”

A wave heaved us on our beam and I spilled my soup in my lap.

———

By next morning the waves had grown to twenty-five feet and the wind had backed into the northeast with gusts of over fifty knots. Spindrift blew off the crests of the waves and sent the foam streaking across the water, turning the ocean white with froth. The violent motion of the boat was making it impossible to hold a course. My choices were to turn into the waves, which meant heading straight into the storm, or to fall off to the west and try to run before it. I decided to run.

Bringing the helm over, I lined up the stern with the onrushing waves and we began surfing down the faces of the giants. I glanced at the compass. The Chinese captain had been right in predicting that the storm would change course. It was baring directly down on us now. Worse, the boat was going too fast. The Ally was surfing the waves at a speed faster than she was built to go. The result was that the hull was being sucked down into the water and creating a dangerous wallowing motion that could swamp us.

I shouted down to Aelena in the galley. “I need you to come up and take the helm!”

She climbed the ladder clinging to the handrails. “What are you going to do?”

“Try and slow us down.”

“I thought we needed to go faster, not slower.”

“Any faster and we’ll broach or pitchpole!”

A frightened look came over her. “Broach? Pitchpole?”

“The boat could get rolled over or go tumbling end for end. Here, take the wheel.”

She spread her feet wide and grabbed the spokes with both hands, staring grimly down into the trough of the wave we were on. I zipped up one of the parkas the chief’s deputy had given us and headed outside.

“What do I do if you fall overboard?” she screamed as the wind ripped the cabin door out of my hand. The racket made it impossible to answer—not that there was an answer to getting washed over the side.

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