by L G Rollins
Elise’s mind went to Nathaniel. Even when he’d been clearly angered—such as the other day when one of the crewmembers forgot there was a little girl present and began telling unseemly tales—she’d never seen him lose his temper or rage as, she glanced at William, one particular friend of hers was wont to do.
It was silent again between her and William. He didn’t seem anxious to leave her company, yet Elise was not sure what he expected her to say. Silence between them had always been a touch uncomfortable. In the past few weeks, it had become only worse. Though, now, perhaps things would start to improve. William seemed to have turned a corner. He was trying to be less belligerent, and he had almost apologized to her just now. Still, the awkward hum between them hung on.
Her gaze jumped to the hallway of bedchambers, the direction Nathaniel had walked. Such a different man, such a different feel to their conversation. How could she talk to a man she’d only known a few weeks comfortably, and then turn and talk to a man she’d known nearly her entire life and have it all be so . . . absolutely not comfortable.
With Nathaniel she felt at ease and able to speak whatever came to mind, to tell every secret.
Though she hadn’t, not fully. She hadn’t told Nathaniel about every werewolf aboard his submarine. Guilt twisted her stomach. She shouldn’t have kept the truth of William from him. This was Nathaniel’s submarine and Nathaniel’s crew—he had every right to know.
Her reason to remain silent echoed like a distant chant in the back of her mind, it’s not my secret to tell. However—she glanced at William standing quite close to her—could he be persuaded to tell just one more soul the truth? Surely he would see that it was the right thing to do.
Elise turned to William. “Can we talk?”
The broody look in his eyes cleared, and he stood up straighter. “Of course.”
He looked pleased that she’d asked to speak with him. Gears above, had she been that standoffish as of late? Too busy for her friend? Her guilt only grew; this wasn’t going to be a conversation William enjoyed.
“Somewhere private?” she said. “What about we go up to the level above? I don’t think it’s ever used.”
William shook his head. “It’s always empty. I think it’s only ever used for boarding or exiting the submarine.”
Elise moved to the ladder and began climbing. “How do you know it’s always empty?”
William didn’t respond, but shrugged instead. He followed behind her and they were soon standing at the top of the ladder, in the narrow hallway which had been their first glimpse of the inside of the Gearhound. Elise had forgotten just how tight the topmost level actually was. With only a single gas lantern burning, every corner was hidden in shadow making the space feel even smaller.
For a moment, Elise felt as though the submarine was being crushed around her. The space shrinking. She would be stuck under the ocean forever.
Closing her eyes, Elise let out a forceful breath. She wouldn’t listen to those thoughts; she was far too logical a person for that. She opened her eyes and focused on William and what had to be said.
“We need to tell Nathaniel who you really are.” She pushed the words out, hoping to say them all before her own irrational fears crept back in. Only after she said them did she realize how coarse they’d been.
“Excuse me?” William rested an arm on the wall beside him. His shoulders almost filled the entire space between one side of the submarine and the other. The gaslight shone behind him as he towered over her. “Tell him who I really am?” His voice dropped low and the anger she so often heard from him surfaced. “You mean what I am.”
Before sailing, she had believed William when he said keeping his secret meant she was a good friend. But now, it just felt wrong. “He’s the captain. He has a right to know.”
“No one has a right to know anything about me.” Skepticism peppered his words. “I have no right to question if the captain’s being a gentleman when he corners you in the hallway. But he has the right to know the details of my life? Is that what you’re saying to me?”
She pressed a couple fingers to the bridge of her nose. This was exactly the kind of response she was hoping he wouldn’t give her. But this was William after all. Why had she ever thought he’d respond differently? “He’s the captain—”
“I believe we established that already.”
“It is his responsibility to keep everyone safe. He can’t do that if he doesn’t understand all . . .” She couldn’t think of the right way of putting it.
“All the threats? Is that what I am now? A threat?” He took a step toward her, scooped up both her hands in his, and pressed them to his chest. “I don’t like that he’s changing you.”
“What are you talking about?” She pulled back, but he didn’t release her.
William continued to tower over her, his features hidden in shadow. “You’re spending far too much time with him, Elise.”
“We’re on a submarine together. It isn’t as though I can avoid him.”
“But you don’t have to keep seeking him out.”
“Seeking him? I don’t. I—” She tugged against his grip once more. But his large hands were vises imprisoning hers. Jittery panic shot through her.
“Come, Elise,” he tipped his head closer to hers. “I see the way you look at him. The way you blush when he speaks to you. Don’t you know you could do so much better than him? He’s a nabob who has stooped so low as to work for a living. You deserve a true gentleman.”
“Don’t talk about him like that. And he is a true gentleman. That’s why we ought to tell him. We can trust him—”
His hands squeezed hers. Pain erupted as the bones in her hands bent unnaturally tight together.
“William,” she didn’t bother keeping her own anger out of her voice. “Let me go!”
“You aren’t telling him. No one on this submarine is going to learn what only you and I know. This is my life and I’ll not hand that man, or anyone, the opportunity to be responsible for my death.”
Finally releasing her, he stalked over to the ladder and began climbing down. Elise rubbed her hands together, breathing hard. She was frustrated, angry, and more than a little frightened. In all the times William had been angry, he’d never hurt her so.
Just before his head disappeared below the floor he scowled back up at her. “Try to remember, we’re here for a scientific experiment.”
athaniel did not like having a ghost leave them daily reminders that they were so-called trespassing in his waters. But what Nathaniel liked even less, was the reminders suddenly stopping.
He slid down the ladder into the control room, but paused, thumbs tapping against the iron poles. What are you planning?
The day wasn’t quite over yet, though. No doubt, something would happen in the next few hours. Nathaniel looked over the few crew members and test subjects helping them in the control room. Other than the first night the ghost had attacked him and Elise, he’d only caused problems when no one was around.
Would the ghost ever reveal himself to any of these people? Nathaniel felt pretty sure he knew how most of his crew would react to a ghost appearing deep under the ocean waves. He’d even gotten to know several of the test subjects quite well. Lenton was eager to work and chose to see the good in others. Antsy was surly and could beat just about anyone at cards. He’d beaten Mr. Cunningham more times, and out of more money, than Nathaniel could count.
Nathaniel’s gaze stopped on Pearl. She was one he had yet to piece together.
She obviously had a rough past; he could tell by the constant scowl on her face, by her closed-off nature, and by the way she looked close to starving. Still, the look in her eyes as she watched her surroundings was a mix of self-preservation and fascination. Pearl was closed off to those around her, yet she hadn’t stopped being intrigued by life.
Nathaniel stood in the control room not far from where his navigator, Brownsea, worked with Pearl. Brownsea had always sported a boyish face
. But it had never been more accentuated than now, as he sat beside the wiry and crusty Pearl.
Pearl, in turn, spoke as though she’d been on a submarine for months, instead of weeks. Brownsea was the best navigator Nathaniel had ever found. Yet, already, Pearl had learned enough to pose questions even he struggled to answer.
Why did she only go by her Christian name? Never before had Nathaniel met anyone who refused to give their surname. Wouldn’t that make one feel more, not less, exposed and vulnerable?
A gentle clank against the ladder behind him caused Nathaniel to turn and look over his shoulder. Elise slid down the ladder. At the sight he couldn’t help but grin. Melissa, too, had been sliding down ladders every chance possible for the past couple days. Apparently, Melissa wasn’t the only one who enjoyed her newly acquired skill.
He walked toward her, happy she had chosen to join him this late in the evening for the dive. Her usual professional expression was up for all to see. Though, he found her cold exterior didn’t bother him as much as it once did. He was starting to understand the slight change in her eyes that gave away her true emotions. Moreover, he fancied that she was beginning to warm to him. The past couple times they’d talked she smiled more and her face showed more expression. It could be he was only imagining it, but Nathaniel hoped he wasn’t.
“Ready to dive down into the Puerto Rico Trench?” he asked.
She didn’t say anything. Moving nearer, he watched her face closely but didn’t see the excitement he had anticipated. Though her face looked calm, her eyes said otherwise. She was rubbing her hands, too. Not wringing them in nervous apprehension, but rubbing them against each other as though to scrub off something displeasing.
He moved closer and dropped his voice, so the others would not hear. “Are you alright?”
“Quite alright.” Even her voice sounded calm and collected. Perhaps he was wrong about the agitation in her eyes. He studied her closer. No, she truly looked upset. Maybe, believing she would be willing to open up to him, was where he went wrong. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Cunningham climbed half way down the ladder. “Elise,” he said, dropping the rest of the way into the control room. He took hold of both her elbows, turning her toward him. “Elise, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”
Had they been arguing? Was Cunningham the reason behind Elise’s distress? A sudden and powerful desire to step between the two of them rushed through Nathaniel. No one should be allowed to make Elise feel unsafe.
Elise only shook her head. “It is quite alright. I understand.” While her tone was even. She, nonetheless, took two steps back, pulling away from Cunningham.
Nathaniel’s jaw pulled tight. What had Cunningham—
The Gearhound pitched violently, the nose tilting upward. Almost before he realized what was happening, Nathaniel’s hand shot out grabbing hold of the nearest I-beam. Shouts echoed throughout the submarine and dishes crashed above. Cunningham and Elise both slid a couple feet before finding hold of the ladder. A couple pens and a few small tools clattered past them toward the back.
Elise’s face turned to him. “Ghost,” she silently mouthed
He gave her a brief nod. That would be his first guess, too. But how in the blazes could one ghost toss about an entire submarine? Granted, most the metal would respond to a magnetic pull, and he had witnessed the strength of the ghost first hand. But this was far beyond what he’d imaged the ghost capable of.
Moreover, if this was the ghost, why wait until now? Why didn’t he turn the nose of the submarine that first night?
“Wimple!” Nathaniel bellowed. “Get us righted.”
“Yes, sir,” her voice snapped with determination.
He could hear her giving orders in the engineering room below, followed by the sounds of gears turning and propellers spinning. At least Rowley had managed to grab hold of the helm’s base and keep the wheel steady, otherwise they may have ended up twisting fully around.
Nathaniel turned to his lead navigator. “What did we hit?” There was always the chance they’d just run into something. That the ghost wasn’t behind this at all.
Brownsea was still in his bolted chair, though he had twisted a bit to the side to stay in it. Pearl also had managed to stay seated, her foot propped up against the table to hold herself there.
“I don’t know, sir.” Brownsea grabbed at a map, searching it frantically. “We shouldn’t be hitting anything, we aren’t that close to the ocean wall.”
An odor of burning chemicals filled the air as the engine whined and the floor of the submarine began to even out. Nathaniel marched uphill to the railing past the helm, where the floor opened up and showed the engineering room below. “Any problems, Wimple?”
“No sir,” she looked up at him as she responded, hand tightly wrapped around a pipe. “No misfires.”
A boom rattled the glass as the floor pitched again. This time the starboard side rose high as the Gearhound tipped sideways. The tools his navigator lost at the last tip clattered again behind him.
Brownsea clenched tight to the large map on the table in front of him. “It’s not the ocean wall sir. We aren’t close enough.”
Nathaniel nodded but didn’t respond. He knew it wasn’t the ocean wall. He’d heard submarine metal against ocean wall before; it was high-pitched and deafening. This was low and muted, with an occasional squeak. He pushed off the railing and made his way to the ladder.
“All hands, relay positions!”
“What’s he doing?” Elise whispered as he neared her. She looked pale, but as in control of her emotions as ever.
Nathaniel was still certain the ghost couldn’t throw the submarine around on his own. More than that, both times he’d heard the the thump of something impacting the submarine before it tipped. “We aren’t hitting anything, something is hitting us.” Footsteps pounded all across the submarine. “Stay clear of the ladder. Find something to hold tight to. There’s no guarantee that whatever we’re up against won’t turn the Gearhound completely upside down.”
“Upside down?” Any last color in her face left. Still, she wasn’t shaking or falling to pieces. She was not a woman who backed down.
“Don’t worry,” he placed a hand on her arm lightly. “The Gearhound can take it. It’s only the people inside I worry about.”
Crewmembers scrambled up and down past them. No one slid, each individual knowing the importance of keeping two hands clasped to the ladder during such a time as this.
“Melissa?” Elise asked.
He felt the knot in his stomach twist tighter. He ached to rush to his little girl and hold her. But, no, she’d be in far more danger if he left his post. “She’s strapped in her bed. She’ll be safe.” The best thing he could do for his Melissa, for Elise, and for them all, was to get them safely away from whatever as attacking the submarine as fast as possible.
Nathaniel didn’t wait to see Elise leave the ladder and find another place to hold on. He climbed down. In the engineering room, Wimple was working frantically with Lenton to right the sub.
“Get ready to blow the tanks if necessary.”
She nodded once his way and then returned to ordering the room about. Nathaniel climbed down yet further. Past the empty cargo hold and all the way down into the observation room.
The submarine was fully righted now, but Nathaniel didn’t let go of the ladder. The two gas lamps were low, turned down earlier to conserve fuel. The submarine grew quiet. No one above spoke or even stomped across the floor. All were in position. They were waiting his orders.
Nathaniel peered out into the inky ocean, but didn’t leave the ladder, it being the only thing to hold onto in the empty room.
Alright ghost, show me what you’re up to. “Exterior lights.”
A crew member standing beside the ladder in the cargo hold relayed his order up to the others. The phrase “exterior lights” was repeated several times, each time it came quieter than the last.
> Two yellow beams, like arms of light, blasted through the murky water.
“Start at the front of the submarine and swing port side.”
There was nothing. No ocean wall, no large rocks or animals. Nothing but water. The beams of light continued their swing until they were both pointing aft.
“Continue starboard.”
The lights moved on. The stillness seemed to press on the Gearhound. They appeared all alone in the ocean. But something had hit them.
A dark, reddish form, long and narrow, moved across the edges of light.
“Hold it!” Nathaniel yelled, but the form had already slipped out of the beam and was gone.
Thump. The entire submarine dropped down, throwing Nathaniel’s stomach up into his chest.
Cries from above broke through the silence. The large animal swam by, a single eye in the center of it’s long body stared back at Nathaniel. Gears above, the eye alone had to be as far across as his forearm.
“Kraken!” Nathaniel hollered. “Crash dive!” The cry was repeated through the sub.
“Flood the front ballast tanks.” Wimple’s voice could be heard even in the observation room. The submarine tipped forward, it’s front end sinking. The propellers whined as they picked up speed.
The Gearhound torpedoed through the water. Shadows of other animals and tall rock formations, reaching up from the ocean’s floor, sailed by. His submarine was fast, but he’d never raced it against a Kraken before. Nathaniel searched the ocean around them for the animal.
It was chasing them alright, port side. Nathaniel couldn’t see yellow-glowing eyes like one did just before a tiger or other wild cat pounced, but he could feel it watching his submarine.