Ghost Ship

FORTY-FIVE

Kurt Austin felt himself falling, dropping weightless, into the darkness, his nerves tingling at the sensation. He plunged into the water and the cold sting opened his eyes. Suddenly he could see. Murky blue surrounded him, but there was light up above and the strange sight of waves toppling from beneath as they rolled over him.

He kicked for the surface and came out into a storm. Winddriven rain lashed the sea, and swells the size of railroad cars buoyed him up and then dropped him down once again. The yacht, the Ethernet, was ahead of him. Sienna and her family were on it.

He kicked toward it and pulled himself aboard as a wave brought him up on the deck that was nearly awash in the storm. Struggling toward the bridge, shouting for Sienna, he found himself pushing through the main hatch only to be clubbed in the back of the head and slammed to the floor.

The impact at the back of his skull nearly knocked him unconscious; he was woozy and dazed. The next thing he knew, someone was slamming him against the bulkhead and trying to choke him.

“Where the hell did he come from?” a voice shouted from the other side of the bridge.

“There’s a rescue copter outside,” the man holding him called back.

Kurt knocked the man’s hand from his throat, but the man flung him down and put him in a headlock.

Not one to lose many fights, Kurt was aware of weakness in his limbs that must have come from the initial blow to the back of his head. Having been concussed several times in his life, Kurt recognized the symptoms. The ringing in the ears, tunnel vision, dizziness. The blow should have put him out, might have even killed him. But, then again, Kurt has always been a hard head.

He looked up, trying to assess the situation. The man at the far end had a woman by the arm.

“Sienna?” Kurt said weakly.

She looked over at him. “Kurt?” she said.

She tried to pull free and reach for him, but the man yanked her back and handed her off to a subordinate. “Get her to the escape pod. Her husband and the children are already there.”

Sienna struggled against them but could not break free. As she was dragged into the ship, Kurt could hear her shouting his name. He tried to stand, but his assailant was too heavy for Kurt to overcome in his current state.

“What about the rest of us?”

“We’ll be joining her as soon as we get rid of this one.” The man dropped down beside Kurt, flipped open a knife, and went for the cable that attached Kurt to the harness.

Kurt heard the helicopter through the storm and saw the spotlight probing around. It spurred the dim realization that he wouldn’t survive if these men cut the cable connecting him to it.

He snapped free, kicked the man with the knife, and lunged for the door only to be tackled again.

“Kill him.”

The man cocked the hammer on the pistol, but Kurt spun and kicked the man’s knee. The weapon discharged, hitting the clear ceramic wall. The wall didn’t shatter, but cracks spread across it like veins. Before Kurt could make a second move a boot caught him in the chin, and the man holding him pressed him down into the water, trying to drown him.

Despite every effort, Kurt could not push hard enough to rise up.

“Wait!”

The order came from a female voice. The man pulled Kurt from the water and held him there.

“We can use him,” the woman said.

As he was allowed to breathe, Kurt stared at the woman. He recognized her. The short dark hair, wet and matted to her head. The high cheekbones. He knew her somehow. Her name was… Calista.

“He’ll tell the world about us,” the man said, objecting.

“Someone has to,” she said cryptically. “You idiots have killed the captain and the crew. We planned on using them for that purpose.”

“We didn’t expect them to fight.”

She dropped down beside Kurt and opened a small case. Kurt could feel the yacht rolling in the swells. It was in danger of going over. Almost unconscious, Kurt fought to stay awake. His strength was gone. His mind clouding over.

The woman produced a syringe and jabbed it in his neck. Kurt’s mind drifted further.

She moved close to his face and held it in both hands. “You came aboard the yacht,” she said, her voice a distant echo. “You saw Sienna beyond this wall.”

She turned his head toward it. The cracks caught his eye. “She was floating facedown. Her hair was wet, waving like sea grass.”

Kurt stared at the glass wall. The glare of a flashlight reflected off it, blinding him. When it was gone, he could see through the glass. The room was half filled with water. The cushions and papers floated in muck.

Sienna was there, he saw her. He lunged toward her only to bang into the glass.

“She drowned,” the voice told him. “Along with her daughter. Such a pretty child. Such a shame.”

Kurt could see it happening. The little girl in her dress, a towheaded blonde. Her small fingers were still curled around her mother’s hand. He remembered hearing that her name was Elise.

“Her eyes are open,” the woman said.

Kurt winced at the image. He tried again to get to them but was thrown back to the deck.

“The yacht is sinking,” the voice told him. “Filling with water. Break the glass! It’s your only hope.”

Kurt slammed his fist into the glass wall but it was no use. He couldn’t break through.

“You tried to smash it with the chair but the glass would not fall. Instead, you did.”

He was pushed onto his back.

“The yacht is rolling over. You’ve run out of time.”

“No!”

“They’re pulling you out!”

“No,” Kurt shouted. He felt himself being drawn backward. His mask was ripped off. And then the back of his head slammed against something once again.

But instead of finding himself out in the sea, he realized, through the haze in his mind, that he was still on the bridge.

He saw the woman and the others walking away. He heard her speaking to someone by radio. “Open the sea cocks. Sink this ship. And let’s get out of here.”

“What happens when he starts to remember?” another of them said.

“He won’t,” she insisted. “Not until we let him.”

Kurt lost track of them and tried to move. He had to get out of there, he had to escape. He tried to stand, but his arms felt as if they were made of lead. His legs were useless.

The water began rushing away from him. The ship was rolling. Suddenly the harness pulled taut around him, dragging him toward the door. It pulled him free and then snapped with a loud twang.

He dropped back into the sea.

Dazed and barely conscious, he tried to kick for the surface but knew he was going deeper, pulled down by suction from the sinking yacht. The flashlight on his arm pointed downward, and Kurt saw the blurry outline of the yacht disappearing into the darkness below.

He turned his gaze upward, caught a glimpse of the silvery light, and then watched the darkness close around it. Everything went black. Until a hand grabbed him and pulled him above the waves.