The Ocean Dark

52

Tori and the guys stood on the far edge of the rusty freighter’s deck, away from the wheelhouse and the stairs — away from anything that might allow access from the darkness of the flooded cargo hold. Kevonne and Pang talked animatedly, both excited at the prospect of rescue and anxious about the waning sunlight. Gabe glared at the Antoinette, waiting in grim silence for the moment when he could confront Miguel. They had all heard Josh’s accusation, and understood what it meant. Miguel had been sleeping with his brother’s wife.

On board the Antoinette, people ran around on the deck, shouting to one another, working quickly. The crane swung out, metal containers dangling in the air. Normally Sal Pucillo operated the crane, but Tori wondered if Miguel had taken the controls. Surely, under the circumstances, Pucillo would put aside any objections he had and do whatever it took to save their lives, but Miguel might not want to trust him with it. Tori suspected the chief mate would want to do this job himself.

Whoever held the controls, the crane lowered the latest container out over the water. The container swayed, like the trailer of an eighteen-wheeler twisting on the end of a string, and the crane operator lowered it over the side of the ship. The cable began to play out. Up on the deck, Tori could see Dwyer talking into a handheld radio, probably guiding whoever operated the crane.

When the container was just above the water, Dwyer gave a hand signal and the crane released the huge metal case. It splashed into the water, tilted slightly, then settled and began to sink. Abruptly it came to a halt, slightly askew, the side nearest them above the water.

“This might actually work,” Kevonne said.

“Might?” Pang snapped. “Fuck might. It’s gonna work.”

The first container the crane had dropped into the water had vanished beneath the waves. So had the second. They were on the sixth now, and two of those managed to rise partway above the water. Miguel had begun to build them a bridge back to the Antoinette. One container had popped open, boxes spilling out, floating to the surface. Another had slid off to the side and disappeared, but Tori thought if they dumped enough of the containers, the crazy plan might just work.

As the thought took shape in her mind, she heard Kevonne and Pang start to laugh. The crane operator had taken a new approach. The crane itself had dipped down between two stacks of containers, each half a dozen high, and now it swung. Tori took a step back in surprise as the top four in the pile nearest the edge toppled off the deck and into the water.

“That’s it,” Gabe said. “No time for precision.”

Even so, Tori kept glancing at the western horizon and then at the work in progress, silently urging Miguel and the others on the Antoinette to hurry. Sunset seemed to be approaching much faster than they could build their bridge. Dusk would come too soon.

Once again, her fate had been taken out of her hands, and Tori hated it. She stood on the edge of the freighter’s deck, washed in golden, late afternoon sunlight, and stared back the way they had come, at the opposite side of the deck. Darkness yawned in the space between freighter and lopsided schooner, and Tori watched intently, waiting for the moment when those long, hideous fingers would come up from the shadows and the creatures would slither onto the deck.

At sunset, they would come.