Chapter 2
The alarm had Dawson rolling out of bed and pulling on his pants and boots before he was even fully awake. It was only then that he became aware of the shuddering and screeching of metal, a noise he’d never heard on an oil platform, and he’d been working on them for six years.
He pulled on the rest of his clothes and made his way to his designated station. The platform lurched as if it was about to fall over.
His shoulder slammed into the wall. “Fuck.”
What was going on?
There’d been no sign of a storm when he’d gone to bed. His heartbeat quickened. Everyone was talking, and nobody knew what was going on. The platform jolted again, and everyone reached for something to grab onto.
Should they be launching emergency rafts?
The idea of abandoning the platform and taking their chances in the North Sea held no appeal, but neither did going down with the platform if it was indeed going down.
Metal squealed and twisted, and the platform tipped again.
Someone prayed. Were they expecting a divine hand to pluck them out of danger?
Dawson leaned against the wall, his fingers pressing against the cold metal, waiting for an order or something.
Nothing happened. The platform didn’t shake or groan.
It remained tilted at an odd angle. He held tight, too scared to move away from the wall in case something happened, but he still needed to make it to his emergency station as the alarm continued to sound.
Slowly, with a few glances and nods, everyone in the corridor agreed to move. Like everyone else, he kept one hand on the wall as if expecting the platform to twist again. But whatever had happened seemed to be over. Was this going to end up in a documentary about an oil spill in the North Sea?
How long until they were evacuated from the platform?
Or would the sea take them first?
They were supposed to gather outside, which didn’t seem particularly safe, as it would only take a slip, and someone would end up sliding off the platform into the sea. Daylight greeted him, along with the curses of others announcing the missing sea.
That was bullshit. The North Sea couldn’t vanish. Curiosity was enough to drive Dawson to venture outside so that he could look around.
It wasn’t bullshit.
Where there had been water around them when he’d gone to bed, now there was land. Land in the middle of the North Sea.
Not only land, but what appeared to be a village.
Someone nudged him and pointed to the coast, where something that looked like a medieval castle was perched. It seemed like someone had pulled the oil platform out of the sea and dropped it somewhere in the Middle Ages.
Which was impossible. But it was also impossible that the platform was now on an island.
“What the fuck happened?” Dawson said as much to himself as anyone.
“Where are we?” The man next to him pulled out his mobile phone. Dawson hadn’t thought about grabbing his as they weren’t supposed to grab any personal belongings in an emergency. “I’ve still got a signal. That’s a good sign, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” It meant they weren’t in the Middle Ages.
He was reading far too much fiction in his free time because time travel wasn’t real…
yeah, and oil platforms didn’t move onto islands either.
Nor did islands suddenly appear in the sea.
None of this should be happening, and it was definitely going to end up in a documentary. “Did the oil get shut off?”
The man gave Dawson a look like he’d banged his head too hard. “We’re in the middle of an island…I don’t even know if there is oil.”
That was a solid point. Although if the platform hadn’t moved, then there should have been oil beneath them. But then how had the island risen?
How did an island rise out of the sea and have a village and a castle as if it were inhabited? “Do you think there are people down there?”
“I guess. Those houses seem to be ruins, but it’s hard to tell from up here.”
Dawson wanted to climb down and find out. He wanted to slide over the deck to the railing and get a better look. He wanted to do a lap of the platform to see more of the island.
“Apparently, we haven’t moved. We’re in the same location.” The man held up his phone.
Dawson rolled his eyes. “That’s really helpful.”
The platform had been drilling near Doggerbank, and he knew that once the sea had been shallow enough for people to live there.
He stared at the castle in the distance and thought of all the fantasy novels he’d read growing up.
They’d been his escape. Rereading his favorites was like revisiting his favorite places and friends.
The way his family had constantly moved around had made it hard to make friends and keep them.
Maybe the islanders had time-traveled.
The idea made as much sense as anything else.
The alarm shut off, and for a few seconds, his ears rang with the echoes.
What happened now? Was there even a protocol?
The speaker crackled to life as if answering his thought. “Please return to your schedule.”
Dawson glanced at the man next to him as everyone exchanged confused glances. They were supposed to go back to what they were doing before and ignore the island? Was there going to be more to that announcement? They all stood around, expecting something. The seconds ticked by.
Without the noise of the alarm or the sea below his feet, the morning was eerily quiet.
Someone took charge. “Okay, go and do whatever you’re supposed to be doing, whether that’s working or sleeping.”
A few people started toward the door.
How was he supposed to go about his day when there was an entirely new island right there? When the platform was now tilted at what had to be an unsafe angle.
The speaker crackled again. “When we have some answers, we will update you until then exercise caution.”
Chatter erupted around him.
“Shouldn’t we be evacuating in case this thing falls over?”
Where were they going to evacuate to? The island that may or may not be inhabited?
“Yeah, how safe is it?”
“It’ll take time for a boat or a helicopter to get out here, so I guess for the moment, try not to fall off.”
That seemed like the smartest thing he’d heard.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. There was no point in going back to bed, and he doubted anyone would be able to sleep even those coming off night shift.
Everyone would be hoping the Wi-Fi worked and checking the news.
He let the others pass, while he stared at the island, wondering where the hell it had come from and who lived there.