Page 55 of If I Go Down with This Ship

“You think I know what the fuck I’m doing?”the shorter man says.He points sharply to the mast, his other hand slacking on the lines.“I don’t fucking know how to do this.”

Mick grabs him by the shirt.“You think any of us do?You think any of us knew what the fuck we were doing when we stepped onto this ship and pledged our lives to Captain Night?”

“Mick!”I say, holding up my hands as if to help him.

“They’re dead already!”Hux screams.

And I hate to admit it, but he’s right; it’s too late.The foremast snaps with a final, earsplitting crack, and we all turn slowly toward it.Dread settles in my gut as the foremast bends sideways and snaps off, taking the man who’d hit his head with it.It feels like I’m watching a scene from a movie, everything moving in slow motion even as the wind and water lash at my face and hands.

The second man who screamed drops.He falls too slowly, slow enough that I wonder if we could have saved him, but then he slams into the rail with acrackbefore flipping over the side and into the water.

The others on top of the mast hang on for dear life as theyride it down.Their legs and arms tighten around the wood.They do not have time to cut themselves loose, but two of them are frantically sawing at their tethers with knives, looking from the rope to the mast and back as it goes flying through the air.The two who’ve been hanging on to the lower sail appear unscathed as the last of their rope snaps free, but three others who’ve been at the top slip into the water.Multiple people scramble forward, cutting lines to free us from the foremast before it can drag us down.

It falls into the waves; gone in an instant.

In just a handful of seconds, we’ve lost five people.Gone, in the blink of an eye.

And then the rope in my hand tugs.My gaze snaps to my right, where Hux stands with his feet planted, teeth gritted.And we fight against it together even though there’s no stopping it.It cuts against my palms and tugs me forward, and there’s nothing to hold on to as the foremast threatens to drown me.

“Laszlo!”I know it’s Silas’s voice; despite the song of the wind and the roar of the storm, I know.

I try to undo the knot with shaking fingers as my legs search for purchase.Cursing, I slip over the main deck and onto the deck below as the foremast tugs me across the ship.The rope is tangled in my belt, and I scramble for a knife or a sharp edge to cut myself free.

“Silas!”

A sob rips out of my chest as I’m yanked rapidly across the ship toward the other side.I have seconds, maybe, before I’m pulled over.Gone.Dead.God, of all the ways I could have died aboard this ship, this is not the one I imagined for myself.Years of fearing the ocean, of being terrified of drowning, and this is how I’ll go.

But someone grabs on to my flailing hand and tightens their grip as another person slices the rope.I feel instant relief as the rope falls away and slithers over the deck into the water.Sighing, I fall back to the deck, staring up into a stormy sky as rain pelts me.

Silas leans over me.His dark hair is plastered to his skin, his eyes wide as he leans down and cups my face, his features twisted with concern.“Are you all right?”he asks, skimming his fingers over my cheek.Some of the crew must be looking on, but he doesn’t seem to care what they see, if they know about us.He’s braver than I ever could be, freer in life and love than I felt in my time.

I take his hand and sit up.The water is inches deep here now, and I slip again as I make to stand, Silas’s strong hands holding me steady.“Yes,” I say as I reach for him.“Thank you.”I want to kiss him, but the pain in his face tells me now is not the time, not when he’s lost some of his crew, when there is still more of this storm to come.

He smiles weakly.“Always.”

Something knocks against his boot, and he bends down to pick up my little blue journal, confused.He holds it out to me, a question in his gaze, but there’s no time.I snatch the water-logged journal back and shove it into my pocket.

Silas turns and crosses the deck without another word, stopping to help our crewmates as needed.Wiping rain from my face, I trudge through the ankle-deep water to aid Mick across the deck.

This storm isn’t over just yet.

18Life’s a Beach, Enjoy the Waves

Thestorm lasts for a few more hours.We’re all exhausted, and we take turns recovering belowdecks.Without the foremast, some of us are left to fill in as needed.The lines are checked once, twice, and a third time as the crew comes and goes from the main deck.We have lost a handful of our crew again, and no one is willing to take any more chances.

On the bright side, it can’t get much worse.I’ve seen this crew dwindle even further, and looking around at the faces in the mess, there’s nothing that hurts more than the disappointment and the pain I find there.And though I don’t know all my crewmates as well as the others aboard the ship do, I see the devastation reflected in everyone’s expressions, Silas’s worst of all.

I want to hold him, promise him that it’ll be okay, that this is just one more hurdle for his ship and crew, but his expressionis grim, and nothing I say or do will fix this.I can’t bring back the dead.

But I feel the weight of my warped journal in my pocket, the secrets I’ve kept from him since the beginning.

Choosing instead to say nothing, I take a swig of ale and stuff a bite of cheese into my mouth as I survey the people around me.They stare down into their mugs with despair, brows furrowed in contemplation.I have no words of encouragement for them, not when I was nearly tugged over the side of the ship myself.

Pip pats me on the back as he passes, trudging through the standing water as he hands out food and ale to the crew.

Drinking down the last of my ale, I push aside the tankard.“I can help,” I say, making to stand.

He shakes his head and refills my cup.“Take yer time, Laszlo.I know it’s not easy up there.”His smile is tight-lipped, but I don’t fight him.