The Big Score by Kilian Michael;

Author:Kilian, Michael;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road

CHAPTER 9

There had been a weather advisory warning of a strong secondary front approaching that night behind the weak one that had swept across the lake in the afternoon. It struck shortly after midnight, kicking up a line of squalls and monstrous swells that set the Lady P to pitching violently, the bow slamming down after each crest with great thuds and smacks.

Poe rolled out of his bunk. He’d thrown up twice during the night and feared he’d do so again before he could reach the sink of his little bathroom. Fighting it, he pushed himself back against the side of the bunk, waiting until he felt confident enough of his stomach to move further.

The nausea passed, but with all the pitching and rolling, the best he could manage was a crouch when he got to his feet. Gripping handholds, he made his way into the main cabin, where three crew members, oblivious to the tumult, were sleeping peacefully. Poe lurched to the ladder and hauled himself up to the hatch. The doors had been closed against the storm. Opening one, he poked out his head, only to be drenched by a wave coming over the cabin.

Matthias was at the wheel, shouting commands to the crew members on deck. The girl named Cindy was stuffing sail into a huge bag. One of the young men was pulling frantically on a rope. They were all wearing life jackets over their foul weather gear.

More wave water sloshed down the back of Poe’s neck.

Curland noticed him, but quickly returned his attention to his tasks.

“What’s going on?” Poe shouted.

“We’ve got a storm on our hands! Better stay below!”

“We gonna make it?”

“I’ve switched to storm sails and reefed the main by half! We’ll weather it! Don’t worry! Get below!”

“Are we on course?”

“I’m a bit busy, Mr. Poe. Please, go back. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Poe wiped the water from his eyes. Feeling vulnerable, he dropped back into the cabin to strap on a life jacket himself, then hesitated. He didn’t know if it would help or hurt his seasickness, but this certainly seemed time for another stiff drink. He managed to get a bottle of Cutty Sark out of the storage cabinet without breaking it. He tried pouring some into a plastic cup, but it spilled, so he drank straight from the bottle. He took two good slugs, then, steeling himself, started topside again. It wouldn’t do to have one of the crew leak it to the papers that the mighty Peter Poe had ridden out a storm huddled in his cabin. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be down there anyway, in case they capsized.

Before Poe could ascend the little ladder, Matthias suddenly came clambering down, easing past Poe and moving in remarkably graceful lunges to the little chart table. Hunching over it, he turned on a tiny lamp and pulled out a rolled-up plastic map.

“Are we lost?” Poe asked.

Curland ignored him. After returning the map to its place, he went back to the ladder and heaved himself back up to the hatch.

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