by Mark Goodwin
“So, that’s what… 500 miles from our location?”
Williams' face showed that he was absolutely petrified. “Yes, sir. Give or take.”
“So that’s good news. At least it isn’t going to hit us.” Everett tried to cheer the man up.
“I don’t know, sir. The wave, we don’t know how big it will be. GRASA has issued an evacuation warning for all coastal areas from Britain to Liberia.”
Everett found this piece of information quite disturbing but wanted to keep everyone else calm. “But they didn’t say how big the wave would be. That may just be precautionary. After the Las Palmas Tsunami, the GR operates with an abundance of caution on these matters.”
“No ships were recovered from the Atlantic after the Las Palmas Tsunami. We must hope that the wave is not nearly as great as that.”
Everett looked at the Mark on the back of Williams’ hand. Nothing he could say would comfort the man. “Yeah, let’s hope. Do we have a plan in addition to our hope?”
“We should turn the ship south, put as much distance between us and the impact zone as possible. Then, an hour before the impact, we’ll turn around and set our course directly at the anticipated direction of the wave. We have to maintain forward momentum. We must keep the ship pointed at the wave. If it hits us from the side, it will roll us. Going straight at it is the only way through.”
“Then that’s it? We’re home free?” Everett asked.
Williams stared at the ECDIS screen. “No. Just like throwing a pebble in a pond, smaller ripples will come after the initial shock wave. We’ll have to maintain a steady course, head-on into the waves. The secondary waves could roll us just as easily if we get turned sideways.”
“I suppose we should replace the lashings on the containers we’ve removed.” Everett began to realize what a truly bad situation the wave represented.
“Yes, sir. I believe that would be prudent.”
Everett called Sarah on the radio. “Go ahead and have Clark and Juan replace the lashings on all the containers but their own. Let me know when they’ve finished. I’ll come help you put the last two on once they’re inside.”
“Roger.”
Everett looked out on the deck of the ship. “What if we pulled the twist locks from the top couple rows of containers? Maybe when the wave hits them, they’d just float away. That might minimize the weight on top and reduce our odds of capsizing.”
Williams shook his head. “If we were to do that, and the bow of the ship goes underwater, it would wash the rogue containers directly toward the bridge. We have very thick glass on the windows of the bridge, sir, but they won’t stop a 2,500-kilogram metal container.”
Courtney’s brow was furrowed into deep rows. “Yeah, we need to keep the bridge intact. It’s kind of an important part of the ship.”
“And the twist locks, are they strong enough to hold the containers if we go under?” Everett stared out at the gargantuan would-be projectiles.
“Let us hope, sir. Let us surely hope.”
Sarah called for Everett to assist in replacing the lashings on the remaining container. Once he’d finished that, he returned to the galley and resumed making what might turn out to be their last meal.
At 5:00 PM, Williams began bringing the ship about.
Everett watched the compass. “It’s a slow process.”
The acting captain nodded. “She’s a big girl as it is. We’re carrying more than 15,000 containers. Each shipping container is two and a half tons when it’s empty. None of the ones on the Madison are empty.”
Once the ship had been brought around, Williams began building up speed.
Everett stood next to Courtney with his arm around her. Until now, they’d not let it be known to Lui and Williams that they were a couple, but if these were to be their last moments on earth, Everett was determined to spend them arm in arm.
Minutes later, Everett stared at the early evening sky. It was clear, soft like the petals of a powder-blue flower; like something from a painting. A pinhole of brilliant white pierced the perfectly even veil colored like a robin’s egg. The pinprick grew, shining brighter. Everett picked up the binoculars from beside the AIS. The glowing object instantly became more menacing when magnified by the lenses of the field glasses. “This thing has a distinct red halo. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Can I see?” Courtney reached for the binoculars.
Everett handed them to her. “Three years ago, I would never even have seen a shooting star. Now I notice the subtle color differentiations from one comet to the other.”
“Welcome to the end of the world.” Sarah took the binoculars next. “At least we’ve got good seats for it.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.” Everett took the field glasses once Sarah finished gazing at the meteor. It grew larger and the red halo burned brighter. Everett could see a clearly defined space between the white-hot asteroid and the radiant scarlet ring around it. It continued to descend from the heavens above, getting closer, and developing an elongated tail that penetrated the crimson halo. The comet’s tail left a trail of smoke, also unlike anything Everett had ever seen.
“It’s getting brighter.” Courtney clutched Everett’s arm as the meteor’s center flashed vivid white. It faded over the horizon and out of view with no grand finale nor monumental spectacle.
“Everyone, strap down.” Everett sat in the chair next to Williams. All of the chairs on the bridge had been outfitted with rope from the engineering room for makeshift seat belts.
Sarah tightened the rope of her chair around her waist. “So, will the wave come crashing over us?”
“No. We’re far enough from the impact that we won’t be affected by the initial splash. And we’re in deeper water than the impact zone,” Williams replied. “A wave in the ocean functions just like a sound wave or any other wave in nature. As long as it has sufficient room above and below, it will transmit the energy evenly, crest to trough. A wave breaks when there is no longer room below the surface to maintain the distance between the crest and the trough.”
Williams tightened his rope for a third time. “Our biggest worry will be the angle at which we’re pulled up over the wave, and then when we come back down the other side.”
Williams’ constant fidgeting with his rope did nothing to ease Everett’s nerves. It appeared to be contagious. Courtney retied her rope, tugging to check its security. Everett held the binoculars to his eyes, waiting, watching for the inevitable wave of destruction. “Apollyon,” he murmured.
“What did you say?” Courtney quizzed.
“Apollyon, the name of the comet, it means destroyer.” He continued to scan the horizon for any sign of the coming surge.
The bridge of the Madison Maersk grew deafeningly silent as all aboard awaited the inescapable fate ahead. Everett broke the soundlessness. “I see it.” He passed the binoculars to Williams.
Williams stared out beyond the bow. His face paled. His body froze like a statue.
Everett snapped his fingers. “Stay with us captain. What’s going on? Are we on course?”
Williams pulled the field glasses away to reveal eyes as wide and round as the lid of a Mason jar. He stuttered. “Yes, no, I’m not sure.”
Everett took the binoculars back. The wave raced toward the Madison at a phenomenal speed growing larger and larger. Everett lowered the glasses and adjusted the wheel to aim the bow straight at the colossal mound of water barreling toward them. “Everyone shield your faces. If the containers break loose from the deck and come flying at the bridge, we could have shattered glass and water surging right for us.”
Everett braced for impact as the 150-foot wall of water rushed into the front of the ship. The bow disappeared into the ocean, which rose up and quickly blotted out the sky. The ship pitched upward as water flooded over the deck. The sound of the metal creaking against the pressure of the wave sounded hideous. The ship moaned with the songs of ghosts, a petrifying sonata of lost souls
wailing a lamentation from beyond the grave.
Everett couldn’t help but watch. The bow emerged from the depth, pushing the entire vessel up at a one-hundred-degree angle. Everett felt the velocity of the gigantic ship being launched heavenward. He could once again see the sky. It lay right in front of him. Instantly, the wall of water on which the Madison lunged upward fell out from beneath them. The ship seemed to pause in suspended animation for a brief moment. The ship leveled out revealing a horizon with many more smaller waves charging toward the Madison.
Then, without warning, the ship tilted forward, rapidly falling downward until Everett was staring straight down at the surface of the ocean. Like a rollercoaster, the ship bolted down at a greater rate than free fall speed.
Everett’s stomach churned, and his heart stopped as the bow of the Madison plunged into the ocean below. POP! POP! CRACK! SNAP! The force of the impact broke off several containers from the front of the ship, throwing them wildly off to the side. Water rushed over the deck as the ship leveled out once more.
“Water is over the third row of containers!” Sarah shouted as she pointed at the deck.
Everett sat silently, looking on, completely powerless to do anything about their situation. He observed the water running off the deck. The Madison Maersk remained right-side up and still afloat. “We made it.” He let out a sigh of relief.
“Don’t speak too soon. Here comes another one!” Courtney’s voice sounded distressed.
Everett leaned back in his chair and held tight while the ship once again pitched up toward the sky. Again, it leveled out, and again, the ship raced down to the ocean below. The second wave measured more than ninety feet from crest to trough, plenty high to rip more containers from the front of the ship. Water washed over the first row of containers, and the ship dropped like a toy boat in a bathtub. The next wave approached from the starboard bow, washing over the deck and tossing the ship up at a slight angle.
Everett looked over at Williams who had his head tucked down and his eyes closed. “Captain, I need you to come back to us. The ship is turning. You need to get us back facing into the waves before the bridge becomes the basement.”
Williams nodded and looked up, his eyes squinting and his face in a painful looking grimace. Williams took the wheel and pressed the throttle forward. The ship leveled out atop the wave, then came crashing down. Once more, containers were ripped from the bow. One washed around the side and struck the bridge castle, producing a shaking thud felt by everyone on the bridge.
Courtney looked at Williams. “You’re doing great. Just stay calm, breathe, and keep doing what you’re doing.”
The wretched groans of anguish coming from the hull of the vessel being bent against the uneven sea continued like a phantom performing a concerto of death on a massive cello crafted in Gehenna. The metal creaked as if the wraith were dragging his bow across the instrument torturously slow, creating a hellish opus designed to steal the lives of men through trepidation and fright.
Everett watched Williams pull back on the throttle. “We’ve gotta keep the engine going. We’re still sitting at an angle.”
“Yes, sir, but when we level out on the crest of the wave, the propeller is sticking out of the water. If I push the throttle, we could burn out the engine.”
Everett understood that they were at the mercy of the sea, at the mercy of God himself. Everett closed his eyes and prayed silently. Jesus, I ask that you’ll help us. Turn this ship, keep us afloat. But if it is not your will, I pray you will comfort us as you call us home. Keep us from fear and anxiety and help us to rest peacefully. While our bodies may die, we know that our spirits will live on because of what you’ve done.
He looked up, determined to do all he could to prevent their demise. “And you’ve got the rudder cranked as far as it will go?”
“Yes, sir,” Williams responded. “But, just like the propeller, the rudders aren’t in the water while we’re at the crest and on the first segment of each descent.”
The ship crashed into the trough of the waves, water flooding over the starboard bow. The vessel listed heavily to the right, then quickly rolled to the left as the Madison began to climb the next wave.
“The waves are getting smaller.” Courtney offered an encouraging fact.
Williams quickly deflated the hopeful comment. “Yes, but a series of fifty-foot waves could capsize us if we get turned perfectly sideways.”
The acting captain stayed diligent in his efforts to bring the ship’s bow back toward the wave. He throttled up while the ship was in the trough and in her assent, then pulled back for each crest and subsequent descent. Slowly, the ship began to turn.
Everett looked up and said aloud, “Thank you, Jesus!”
Lui and Williams both looked at him curiously. Everett was sure they now understood why his team was at such odds with the Global Republic. He wanted to share the blessed hope he carried in his heart, but they each had the Mark. Too late; their souls belonged among the damned.
Everett kept watch on the bridge until the sun rose Saturday morning. Courtney tried to go down to her cabin to sleep, but she couldn’t even make it down the first flight of stairs. The tempestuous seas also prevented Sarah from getting much slumber. Although, she did manage to nod off for a couple hours tied to her chair on the bridge, neither Lui nor Williams slept.
The sea eventually calmed to the point where the waves measured roughly twenty-five feet from crest to trough. Courtney turned to Everett. “We need to check on the people in the containers.”
“We can’t do it. Not until these waves get smaller. They probably got an inch or two of water in the containers, but it ran right back out. They’ll be a little uncomfortable, but they’d survive.”
“The containers on the bottom row were completely submerged.”
Everett shook his head. “The containers aren’t airtight, but they are water tight, which means even completely submerged, they’d only leak a little. Besides, we can’t do anything now anyway.”
Courtney looked out the window to the east. She rested her head on her hand and her elbow on the arm of her chair. “The sky looks threatening. Are we sailing into a storm?”
Everett surveyed the faint glow of daylight trying to emerge from the east. The horizon was red and orange, like fire. The sky, which should have been lightening up, was still pitch black. “It looks more like a dark haze from smoke than cloud cover.”
Sarah stood from her chair and steadied herself by holding onto the back wall of the bridge. “I’m going to attempt to make some coffee and a peanut butter sandwich. Can I interest anyone else in one?”
“Yes, please,” Lui said. “But no coffee for me. I’m too nervous already.”
“I’ll take a sandwich, but I’m not up to the risk of drinking coffee unless you find a sippy cup with a lid.” Everett continued to gaze at the ominous sky.
“I believe you’re right about it being smoke.” Williams studied the sky with the binoculars. The rising sun continued to reveal the heavy haze, which obscured the majority of the daylight.
The vexatious seas persisted throughout the morning and afternoon, calming only slightly with waves around twenty feet. But it was enough that Everett ventured down the stairs to his cabin and took a long nap.
He awoke later that evening and took over the watch on the bridge, allowing Courtney and Sarah to retire. The evening’s meal consisted of MREs. Everett had no desire to attempt cooking with the ship still bobbing so much.
CHAPTER 12
And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth: and unto them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power. And it was commanded them that they should not hurt the grass of the earth, neither any green thing, neither any tree; but only those men which have not the seal of God in their foreheads. And to them it was given that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months: and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man. And in those days shal
l men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them. And the shapes of the locusts were like unto horses prepared unto battle; and on their heads were as it were crowns like gold, and their faces were as the faces of men. And they had hair as the hair of women, and their teeth were as the teeth of lions. And they had breastplates, as it were breastplates of iron; and the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots of many horses running to battle. And they had tails like unto scorpions, and there were stings in their tails: and their power was to hurt men five months. And they had a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon, but in the Greek tongue hath his name Apollyon. One woe is past; and, behold, there come two woes more hereafter.
Revelation 9:3-12
Early Sunday morning, Everett again looked out at a muffled sunrise shrouded in dark smoke.
“Good morning.” Courtney arrived on the bridge to relieve Everett.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked.
“I probably got about four hours. I guess that’s good, considering.”
Sarah walked onto the bridge as they were talking “I slept like a log.”
“We can walk on the deck now. Can we go check on the people in the containers? They’ve been cooped up with no word of what’s going on since Friday morning.”
Everett felt absolutely exhausted. As much as he wanted to go straight to bed, he knew she was right. “Okay. We’ll go check on them. Sarah, can you handle the bridge?”
“I’ll call if I need you.”
“Thanks.” Everett led the way down the stairs to the lashing deck. He rotated the turnbuckle to loosen the first lashing on the container where Clark and Juan were. Courtney held the large metal rod while Everett performed his task. The two of them removed the second lashing, then opened the container door.
“Are you guys okay in there?” Everett shined his flashlight.
Clark shielded his eyes from the light. “I bumped my head pretty good. Our mattresses got a little wet, but we’re alive. What happened?”