Gale Force

70

Matt Jonas found the pump ahead of the engine room on deck one. He checked that the hose was connected to the starboard tank’s emergency valve, then rappelled down the corridor to the portside valve.

He checked his watch. Ten minutes to zero hour. Matt picked up the loose end of the hose, fastened it to the portside tank’s emergency valve.

A noise, behind him. Footsteps, labored, someone navigating the tricky path through the corridor. Matt turned, saw a headlamp at the top of the hall, the starboard side, peering down at him.

“It’s McKenna.” The skipper’s voice echoed through the empty ship, an eerie, ghostly sound. “Just making sure you’re all set.”

“Doing fine,” Matt told her. “Just about to open the portside valve, start pumping this thing up.”

The skipper hesitated. “Right,” she said finally. “Okay, cool.”

“This thing going to work?” Matt called up to her.

“I hope so,” she replied. “I think so.” Then, quickly, “I mean, the whiz kid says it’s pocket aces, best shot we have.”

“Pocket aces, you said?”

“That’s right.”

Matt looked around the corridor. “Those are good odds. Eighty percent, right? Best starting hand in poker.”

“Yeah,” the skipper replied, “but did he tell you how he busted out of the World Series?”

Matt shone his light up toward her. He could see the skipper in the distance, a hundred feet up, peering down at him.

“None of us would be here if we didn’t like to gamble, right?” Matt said. “Aces get cracked now and then, but hell, that’s just variance. You sure as heck wouldn’t fold them.”

“Dad was always a gambler,” McKenna said. “Guess I’m going to find out if I’ve got that itch, too.”

Matt smiled. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” He checked his watch and looked up at her. “I’m about due to open this valve up, skipper.”

“Roger that. I’d better check on the others.” A pause. “Be careful.”

“Always.” Matt listened to the skipper’s footsteps until they were nothing but echoes. Then he checked his watch again. Time to gamble. He hesitated a moment, thought about Stacey and the rest of the crew.

Variance, he thought. Then he opened the valve, tensed as the hose filled, muttered a silent prayer, and waited.