Shepherds by J Drew Brumbaugh

Author:J Drew Brumbaugh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: suspense, science fiction, dolphins, Finnish fisherman, murder
Publisher: James Brumbaugh
Published: 2013-09-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

It had been a long night for Toivo. As tired as he was he couldn't sleep. The constant chatter between the shepherds woke him repeatedly. The fishing boat did come back and the shepherds shouted orders to each other as they chased it away from their flock. When the first rays of sunshine finally filtered through the small porthole over his bed, Toivo lay in a tangle of sheets. His eyes burned from lack of sleep and every muscle ached from fatigue. Slowly sunlight brightened the seascape visible through Toivo’s porthole and he knew they’d changed course and were headed north. Probably to find Ici's friend Michael.

The door opened a crack, Olga peeked in and then seeing Toivo, she knocked lightly to get his attention.

"Are you awake?" she asked.

Toivo pulled the sheet up to cover his chest. "Yes, I'm up."

She pushed the door open. "Do you want some breakfast? We have a few eggs."

Toivo eyed her appreciatively, the blond hair, the blue eyes, the supple lightness of her figure, the ripple of muscle below the skin. Exotically striking, but still Russian. "No," he grumbled, "I'll fix my own breakfast when I get up." He rolled over to face the bulkhead.

The door slammed. Toivo stared a long moment at the blank steel wall, his anger rising. He was angry about being kept up all night and now angry with himself for acting so callously. He got out of bed and slipped on the bathing suit. He still wasn't used to wearing such a skimpy piece of cloth. The revealing bulge was too obvious but the small suit would have to do, and it was better than nothing. He opened the door and peered out into the hallway. He saw only the shadowy gloom from the dimmed ship's lights that were turned down for night running.

Gingerly, he stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him. Testing his legs, he found them stronger than they had been yesterday, despite his fitful night. He stood for a moment, measuring his balance, then hurried to the bathroom where he washed his face and hands. Someone's razor lay on the side of the basin and he used it to shave the ugly brown stubble from his face. Ah, that felt better. He dried his face with a square of cloth that passed as a towel and headed for the galley, enticed by the smell of frying eggs.

At the galley door he hesitated, wondering who was on the other side. Probably Olga. He really didn't want to face her. He wasn't in the habit of being rude to attractive young women. Then again, he wasn't in the habit of having young girls press him for his attention. It gnawed at him that she was Russian.

Getting involved with her was something he couldn't allow. Forget it, he decided, and pulled the door open.

Olga stood at the stove, her back to him. Through the opening that led into the mess hall next door, he could see Ni sitting at the table eating eggs and toast.

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