Waves of Fate | Book 1 | First Fate

by Talbot, Kendall

  Shoving boxes aside as she went, she entered the corridor, and Sterling splashed through the water behind her. He was taller than she was, so unlike her, he didn’t need to swim to move forward.

  The passage was short compared to many of the corridors she’d walked along since boarding the ship, and within a couple of minutes, they pushed through a set of double doors and entered one giant room. It was an enormous warehouse. Light was coming from somewhere, but it was impossible to work out where. It was like the water had been permeated with some kind of green incandescent fluorescence.

  Against the far wall, spanning the gap between the waterline and the ceiling, was a series of giant pipes. But they were buckled out of shape and oozing black liquid. Maybe that was what had been fueling that fire.

  The ship rolled to her left. Her feet left the ground. And she was caught up in the swell. Boxes and all sorts of other crap came at her. She fended them off, punching them away. Kicking like crazy, she fought to keep her head above the water. She slammed into a wall. Her side snagged on something sharp. Pain ripped across her flesh. A scream burst from her throat.

  “Madeline!”

  She touched her waist just above her hip and felt both torn fabric and jagged flesh. Flinching, she raised her hand above the water. Blood covered her fingers. “Shit! Shit. Shit.”

  “Madeline!” Sterling’s panicked cries pierced her brain, and she searched the green haze for him.

  “I’m here.”

  “Madeline.”

  “I’m here,” she screamed louder. “Where are you?”

  His hand appeared above a field of boxes. “Over here. Can you swim back?”

  “Okay.” Forcing her brain to forget her new injury, she put her feet on the wall and kicked off. But just as she did, the wave began to curl back the other way. All of a sudden, she was barreling toward the other side of the room. Boxes, plastic bottles and scraps of debris came with her.

  “Sterling!” she cried out. “Help—”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. The wave crashed over her, trapping her in a garbage soup. She clawed at the water, searching for air. It was impossible to know which way was up.

  The back of her head smashed into something and stars danced across her eyes. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. Her head screamed with pain. She needed a breath. Needed it now. The throbbing in her lungs was excruciating, and without thinking, she opened her mouth and sucked in the foul water. She bucked against the onslaught. Her eyes snapped open and in the green swamp, she saw a miracle.

  Sterling’s hand.

  It snatched at her wrist, and she was dragged sideways.

  She burst through the surface and sucked in a huge gulp of air. Her lungs burned as she spewed the foul sludge over and over. As she treaded water, her tears started, spilling down her cheeks in relentless rivers.

  Sterling’s arm draped over her shoulder. “Hey, you’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “She’s okay. She’s safe.”

  Any hope of speaking was swallowed by the swell of emotion racing through her. Maybe he saw her turmoil because he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her into his chest. Embracing him seemed so natural . . . like they’d done it a thousand times before. She wove her arms around his back and melted into his body.

  “We’re going to get out of this. I promise,” he said.

  She nodded and as she listened to the therapeutic beat of his heart, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so safe. Considering their situation, it was a very strange admission.

  He glided his hands over her hair. “Now . . . if you’ve stopped messing around, I’ve found some stairs.”

  Chuckling, she pulled back, and when she saw the cheeky grin on his face, she playfully slapped his arm. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. The two of us were waiting for you. So come on, hop on my back.” Before she had a chance to protest, he turned around.

  A swell of childish joy spread through her as she eased her chest up to his back, wrapped her arms around his neck and peered over his shoulder.

  “Hang on.”

  She did.

  Sterling leaned forward, and using his hands to push through the water, he aimed for the opposite corridor they’d come from. The boat continued to sway from side to side, but Sterling battled through the swell like it was nothing. He shoved through a doorway and entered a dim stairwell. When he turned around, she eased off his back.

  Sterling pointed up the stairs. “The girl’s outside the door at the next level.”

  Gripping the railing to combat the boat’s movement, she climbed the stairs. The first curve in the stairwell was completely dry. At the next landing, she pushed through a door labeled deck two and found the girl on her back on the floor. Her chest was rising and falling as if she were still in a peaceful sleep.

  A wave of exhaustion flooded through Madeline. She crumbled to the carpet, tugged a band from her hair and ran her fingers through her wet tresses. Shivers trembled through her, but it wasn’t from being cold. She was thirsty, starving, exhausted, and terrified. But not cold. In fact, it was very warm. Too warm. Zero air-conditioning made the area as stifling as an oven. And what little air they did have was still tainted with smoke and fumes.

  A strip of green lighting lined the edge of the walls. It was why the water had a green tinge. Add to it the smoke in the air and the area had a strange, spooky feeling. Like a technique movie directors would use to make a graveyard appear more ominous. It didn’t help that the place was empty and deathly quiet. She’d been on the ship for nearly two weeks and not once had she heard silence like this.

  The horrifying notion that they were the only three people left on the ship crept into her mind, but when Sterling crawled in beside her and she inhaled his lovely tropical scent, the brutal thought evaporated from her mind.

  He turned to her. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Happy to be your trusty steed any day.”

  “Careful.” She attempted to grin, but it was probably more like a grimace. “I may have to hold you to that offer.” Wincing, she rolled to her side and peeled up her shredded cotton shirt. The jagged gash in the side of her waist was about four inches long, and the dark blood in the middle confirmed it was deep. Blood and water mingled together and flowed down her hip in morbid rivers.

  “Oh Jesus.” Sterling eased closer. “That’s bad.”

  She lowered her eyes, not wanting to see the worry in his gaze. “This?” She shrugged. “This’s nothing.”

  A crooked smile wobbled across his face and he placed his hand over hers. His gaze flitted from her to the teenager, still unmoving at their side. “Now, we need to get both of you to the doctor. Do you think you can walk?”

  The warmth of his palm and the concern in his voice were so lovely that her heart seemed to melt. “Of course.”

  Sterling climbed to his feet and offered his hand to help her stand. The ship wobbled beneath them and the second she put her foot down, pain shot up from her leg like a poisonous barb. She yelped. The blue stain bulging over her ankle bone was bigger and darker than the last time she’d checked. When she’d woken with that yesterday morning, she’d thought it was the worst thing in the world.

  Karma was playing tricks on her again.

  Sterling cupped her elbow. “I forgot about your ankle.”

  “Yeah, me too. I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

  “Actually, no.” His expression softened with a tantalizing pause. “You look perfect to me.”

  She curled her lip in through her teeth as her mind pirouetted with a delicious mix of excitement and curiosity.

  He reached over and when he curled a slip of hair behind her ear, butterflies danced across her heart. “You’re the bravest and strongest person I’ve ever met.”

  No words could ever explain how she was feeling. All she could do was grin. She didn’t even care that she
’d look like a crazy woman. Nothing could ruin this moment.

  An awkward pause crossed between them before Sterling bent over to collect the girl into his arms. Once he shuffled her into position, he turned to Madeline. “Let me know if you need to rest. Okay?”

  She saluted him. “Yes, Captain.”

  He chuckled. “Very funny. For that, you get to lead the way.” He nodded at the door they’d come through. “Let’s keep going up those stairs.”

  She turned to the door and the ship’s sway had her landing heavily on her bruised foot again. Clamping her jaw, and fighting the urge to cry out, she pushed through the door and held it ajar for Sterling. A sharp, metallic scraping had the hairs on her neck prickling. She leaned over the railing and tried to see up the stairwell, but it was too dark.

  “Hello?” Her voice bounced off the walls. “Hello, is anyone there?”

  “What was that?” Sterling stepped to her side and glanced upward.

  “Don’t know.” The metallic scraping happened again. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

  Leaning heavily on the railing, she hobbled upward.

  Dealing with pain was one of the most powerful skills she’d ever learned. It had been out of sheer necessity when Flint had burned her with his cigarettes. But the initial pain was nothing compared to the sting that came afterward. Skin had interesting pain receptors. A flesh wound could hurt just as much as a swift amputation. Apparently.

  Bruises, however, were a different story. Madeline had received her share of those in her life, and not just from her kidnapper. Learning to dance was a delicate balance between pleasure and pain. She lived for them both.

  Ahead of her was the door for deck four. She glanced over the railing up at the next set of stairs. “Oh no!” A giant concrete cylinder, as wide as her body, had demolished the next section of stairwell. An entire row of stairs had been obliterated. Twisted and buckled metal was all that remained.

  The boat shifted and the metallic scraping sound became deafening. Madeline covered her ears and glanced at Sterling. Even in the dim light, fear flashed in his eyes.

  “Jesus.” He shook his head. “Go through the door.”

  She pushed through and stared wide-eyed at the destruction. The entire left-hand side of the hallway was demolished. The giant pipe had taken out everything in its path. Rooms were crushed in. Wires dangled everywhere.

  “Holy shit!” Sterling’s jaw dropped. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “What’re we going to do? We’re trapped.”

  “There.” He nodded toward the opposite corridor. “Go that way.”

  With her heart pounding in her chest, she entered the dim corridor. It stretched ahead of her for what seemed like miles. Closed cabin doors lined each side of it. The breeze she was walking into came with strange scents: the ocean, smoke, fumes, and something else, something pungent and feral, something that had her empty stomach curdling.

  They checked each door they passed. All were locked shut.

  Finally, they reached a door that was open, and she stepped in. “Hello?”

  It had four bunks, but the mattresses had shifted and the pillows were on the floor. Cupboard doors swung back and forward with the ship’s sway, as did the curtain over the window.

  Madeline shoved a mattress back into place and Sterling placed the girl onto the lower bunk. He raised her head, and as Madeline placed a pillow beneath it, he brushed her hair away from the girl’s eyes. When he gave a gentle squeeze to the girl’s arm, she still didn’t stir. “Hang in there. We’ll get you help soon.”

  Madeline forced back the lump in her throat. “Mind if I use the bathroom?”

  “Go for it.”

  Stepping into the cubicle, she flicked the switch, but the light didn’t turn on. It was too dark to shut the door, so she left it ajar.

  She shouldn’t have glanced in the mirror. Her skin was pale, her eyes were red, and dark smudges lined her cheeks, neck, and down her chest. She tried to wipe them away, but it was grease from the elevator cables. It’d be impossible to remove without a long, hot shower. Hopefully, she’d get one very soon.

  After using the toilet, she flushed. At the sink, she turned on the tap and held a face washer beneath the faucet. After an initial burst, it spluttered, then stopped. Scowling, she used what little water she had to dampen a cloth. She lifted her ripped shirt and studied the cut on her waist. The blood had coagulated and slowed, but that didn’t make it look any better. Wincing, she dabbed the wet cloth to the wound’s outer edge, attempting to clean it. But it was pointless. Aware that she was going to need a lot more than a trickle of water, she gave up and tossed the bloodied cloth into the waste bin.

  She stepped from the bathroom and found Sterling standing at an open cupboard.

  His grin was photo-worthy. “Look what I found.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Food.”

  He offered her a packet of nuts, and opened a second one for himself.

  “But they’re not ours.”

  “We’ll pay them back.”

  She hesitated barely a second before she tore open the packet. They were the tastiest nuts she’d ever eaten.

  “Excuse me for a sec.” Sterling disappeared into the bathroom.

  She returned to the bunk beds and sat opposite the unconscious girl. Her top had ridden up a fraction and Madeline gasped at a dark stain on the girl’s stomach. She put the nuts aside to raise the girl’s shirt.

  An enormous black bruise spread from her hip and covered a third of her torso. It was a horrifying mix of purple and red. Madeline had received her share of injuries in her life, but nothing had ever looked as bad as this.

  It wasn’t hard to picture how she’d received this bruise. When the elevator had hit the bottom, the poor girl would’ve slammed down with the full force of gravity.

  “Oh shit, that’s not good.”

  She hadn’t heard Sterling’s approach. “No. Do you think she has broken ribs?”

  “Possibly. I don’t think we should move her anymore.”

  “I agree.”

  “How about I go and see if I can find a doctor?”

  She snapped her gaze to Sterling. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not going anywhere without me. We stick together, remember?” She clenched her jaw.

  “Okay.” Sterling must’ve seen her determination. “Okay.”

  He tugged a sheet off the opposite top bunk and draped it over the girl. “Come on. Let’s go get some help.”

  At the cabin door, Sterling paused. “Four one four nine. Remember that cabin number.”

  “Got it. Four one four nine.”

  Back in the narrow corridor, Sterling led the way. The sway was worse than before and the strange-smelling breeze was stronger. Ahead of them, a light filtered in from somewhere and Madeline allowed her hopes to rise.

  But barely thirty steps later, Sterling halted. “Oh, shit.”

  Her brittle moment of optimism was crushed to a million pieces as she stared, openmouthed, at an enormous hole in the ship. The light she’d seen was the sun, and the breeze was from the ocean.

  “What the . . .?” Sterling didn’t finish his sentence.

  She turned from the gaping hole to look at what was left of deck four. The devastation was massive. Walls, floors, and ceilings were charred and demolished. Lights dangled from flimsy cables. Strips of metal had been shredded to pieces. Wires spewed from every angle. Rubbish was everywhere.

  “What the hell happened?” Sterling crunched over bits of glass and plasterboard, heading farther into the wreckage.

  She followed him, grappling with what she saw. Almost everything was charred, and huge chunks had broken away into a massive smoldering pile. It explained the smoke. It explained the weird fumes.

  She looked up and her jaw dropped. “Is that—” She pointed to a large white object embedded in a wall on the other side of the area. “Is that the wing
of a plane?”

  “Oh my God! I . . . I think it is.”

  Madeline’s heart slammed against her chest as her eyes darted from one unbelievable aspect to another. “Do you think it was a suicide bomber?”

  He huffed out a breath. “I have no idea.” Sterling stepped over a pile of rubble, crouched down, and came up with a dinged can of cola. He held it toward her. “Here.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. You have it.”

  “We’ll share.” He pulled the ring and black liquid spewed from the rim. “Shit.” He poured the cola into his mouth and once it stopped, he offered it to her again. “Sorry.”

  She chuckled. “It’s fine.” She sipped the sweet fizz that was both warm and hardly enough.

  “Hey, look at that.” Sterling climbed over more rubble, and pulled a small trolley upright. A food cart. “Hope there’s some left for us.” He tugged open the top drawer. “Yes.” Grinning, he tossed a packet of cookies toward her.

  As she munched on the oatmeal cookies, she scanned the wreckage. Her eyes snagged on a blackened object in the corner. She stopped chewing. Bile crawled up her throat. “Oh my God.” Her hand snapped over her mouth. “Is that . . . is that--”

  Sterling followed her gaze. He took a few steps toward it, then spun around. The horrified look on his face confirmed her fear. It was a body. A charred, mangled body.

  Madeline scrambled to a corner and threw up what little food she had in her stomach.

  It was a long time before she was able to turn back around.

  Thankfully, Sterling had found a large sheet of what looked like aluminum foil to cover the body.

  He walked back to her with another packet of cookies. “You need to eat.”

  She nodded. He was right. She knew only too well what crazy things starvation did to her mind. Reluctantly, she opened the packet and bit into another cookie.

  Complete silence seemed to grip her. There should be people everywhere. But they hadn’t seen nor heard a single soul for what seemed like days. The thought that’d lurked in the dark recesses of her mind took shape again, dark and ominous, like a sadistic demon. “Oh my God . . . you don’t think . . . have they abandoned ship and left us behind?”