Prologue #2
The harness console was dead, but she managed to access the manual override.
The wind whipped ocean spray and rain across her face as she worked the lever, inching the boat lower.
The Vigilant continued to thrash, each pounding wave tipping it a bit more.
A few more massive hits, and the ship would surrender.
A hint of movement startled her, and she spun, weapon sweeping the deck, her ass braced against the console. A lone figure stood in the shadows, hood pulled up over his head. He turned, froze, staring at her until a flash of lightning illuminated his face.
She inhaled, nearly tripping onto one knee when the deck rose sharply, hanging at a forty-five before slamming back down. She grabbed the broken line, using it for balance as the man slowly closed the distance between them.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, her pulse pounding in her head. “Maddox?”
Rear Admiral Maddox stepped into the small beam of light, mouth pinched tight, his skin almost ashen. He looked her up and down, shaking his head. “Saylor?”
She took a step, stumbling back when the line pulled her off-balance. “You’re alive?”
“Where the hell have you been?”
She frowned, wondering if she should reach out and give him a hug or apologize for not finding him sooner. “I’ve been searching the ship. But I couldn’t find…” She swallowed, gagged. “Baker’s dead.”
Maddox gaped at her, his hands fisted at his side before scrubbing one down his face. Looking at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “I thought… ”
She startled at the next boom of thunder. “We have to go. The hull’s not going to last much longer.”
She turned, working that damn crank.
He shifted off to her right, each step sending another shiver down her spine, the sound reminiscent of those men. The calculated tap. The way it echoed. “I thought you were dead, already.”
Already?
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her inner voice poking at her. “I… Were we attacked? And what’s that pulse that keeps bellowing up from the hull? I can’t remember anything once it hits.”
“I’ll explain it all later.” He motioned to the crank. “Keep turning.”
She blinked, then refocused on the handle. On lowering the boat without breaking the remaining line. The wind rocked the craft sideways, tugging on the rigging until she thought it’d snap. A weight settled between her shoulders, the hairs on her neck prickling.
She stopped and waved Maddox over. “Get onboard. I can’t guarantee this line won’t break. Someone should be at the helm, just in case. If all goes well, I’ll lower it the rest of the way, then climb down.”
“I really wish it hadn’t come to this.”
“It wasn’t your fault, but I can’t leave you here.” She grabbed the other line when it looked as if it was about to let go. “We can talk once we’re underway.”
“I… I can’t… She’s been like a daughter to me.” A step. “You do it.”
She froze.
His words. That step .
Both sent off warning bells in her head.
She tightened her grip on her weapon, mapping out how she’d counter a dynamic situation as she shifted her gaze to the Zodiac’s window — staring at the reflected scene behind her with the next flash.
A figure stood beside Maddox, half his face hidden in shadows, a gun pointed her way.
His finger moved — slid inside the trigger guard — when the ship dipped hard to starboard as a report boomed through the air.
Pain tore through her shoulder blade, the force of the hit pitching her forward.
The Zodiac swung, catching her in the thighs — tumbling her onto the deck as it continued through, hanging in mid-air before swinging back.
She hit hard, head grazing the edge of the rear seat, her weapon sliding across the molded fiberglass and into the raging waves below.
The line snapped, dropping the Zodiac the last twenty feet into the water.
The vessel bounced, nearly submerging as the Vigilant tipped, the resulting surge pushing the Zodiac away as the massive ship listed hard to port.
A horn sounded in the distance, the hollow tone lingering in the air as she drifted in a numbing haze, none of the signals getting past the throbbing in her head.
Rain stung her skin, the biting wind finally rousing her. She groaned, blood mixing with the water beneath her as she rolled over — dragged her back against the seat. Thunder clapped above her, each bolt of lightning highlighting the storm. Clouds circling. Waves looming above.
Saylor swallowed, nearly blacked out, then staggered to her feet. She cradled her right arm as she stumbled to the helm, starting the engines as she scoured the horizon. The Vigilant was gone, Maddox along with it. Nothing but massive swells and raging crests in every direction.
She grabbed the first aid kit from beneath the panel, did her best to plug the hole — brace her arm enough to use the throttle.
Had she been shot?
She couldn’t remember. Couldn’t get the thoughts to stay long enough to be sure.
A whispered pep talk, and she managed to crawl across the deck — grab a life vest. Not that it would do much if she ended up in the water. But it gave her a false sense of hope. That if she pushed past her limits — rose to the challenge — she just might get to shore alive.
The Zodiac roared to life as she hit the throttle, riding the swells up, then down. She aimed the bow east, aware she’d likely capsize before she’d covered any significant distance, but she’d try. Go down fighting.
She worked the throttle, surfing the waves, using every trick she’d learned to keep the boat upright. Squeeze one more mile out of her before it all went sideways. More dots slid across her vision, the numbing cold slowly drawing her under.
The wind howled past, and the salt stung her eyes, but she kept pushing — clawing out a few more minutes of life.
An ear-piercing pulse sounded in the distance, the deafening tone ringing through her head and into her chest. Rattling what was left of her thoughts and roiling her stomach, just like when she’d been back on the ship.
Or maybe the noise was simply her imagination.
Remnants of the Vigilant as it finally sank beneath the surface.
Either way, hearing the reverberation echo as she slumped against the wheel seemed fitting, that ominous tone following her into the darkness.
Light.
Brighter than it should be. Burning through her eyelids. Too white to be the sun. More like a spotlight. The same intensity she’d seen on the ship a moment before the bulbs had exploded.
Saylor inhaled, adrenaline spiking her heart rate as she pried open her eyelids. The harsh glare roiled her stomach, and she turned — dry heaving over the edge — her cheek braced against a metal railing.
Gentle hands brushed back her hair, a soft, cool towel dabbing her forehead. “Easy. You’re still too weak to be up and about. Sleep.”
That voice. She recognized it. What was her name?
The thought drifted with her in a numbing haze, weaving in and out of the images flashing in her head. The remnants of a memory trying to take shape. There had been shouting and chaos — footsteps racing along the hallways — then some kind of pulse that had dropped her to her knees …
Saylor inhaled as she bolted upright, lines and stitches tugging against her skin. She held that breath, swaying as pain shot through her back, then into her chest, dimming the room until it was all she could do just to sit there and breathe.
Someone cursed, then bridged her weight, shoving a couple pillows behind her back as they grunted. “If you pull out your stitches or fall over that railing, the doctor’s gonna put you back into an induced coma.”
Saylor waited for the room to stabilize, then focused on the person’s face. She blinked a few times, a name tumbling over in her head before she relaxed. “Mac?”
Mackenzie Parker, Coast Guard pilot and Saylor’s best friend, smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You remember, this time. That’s good.”
“This time?”
Two words — three including Mackenzie’s name — and it had drained her. Had black streaks cutting in from the sides of her vision.
Mac sighed. “You opened your eyes a couple times, but you weren’t really awake. Not that you look like you’re gonna last more than a few minutes, now. But at least, you seem more aware.”
“What…”
Had talking always hurt this much? Pulsed pain through her temples? Had her chest constricting around each breath?
Mac frowned. “You don’t remember?”
Saylor shook her head.
“What’s the last thing you do remember? ”
Saylor swallowed. “Boarding the Vigilant for an inspection with Rear Admiral Maddox, then…”
Mac pursed her lips. “That was three weeks ago.”
“Three…” Saylor frowned. “Was there a storm?”
She palmed her head, crying out as pain shot through her temples, more images trying to claw free. Lights on the water. The missing lifeboat. Blood soaking her clothes.
Mac paled. “Easy. It’s not important. The doctor said you might have memory issues for a while. But they’ll likely return over time. Rest. We’ll try again once you’re stronger.”
Saylor snagged Mac’s hand, holding it tight until Mac leaned over her. She wet her lips, hoping she got out all the words before she faded. “What about Maddox? Where’s everyone else?”
Mac pursed her lips, eyes glassy as she gave Saylor’s hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Saylor, they’re all dead.”