by M. R. Noble
“Come,” Blondie said. His accent was thick. “Sit down, we have drinks while we depart!” He slapped Andre on the back. “Should help your fear of the boats, no?”
Andre grimaced. “Thanks.”
His crewman jumped to life, untied the boat from the dock, and hoisted the buoys onto the deck and bow. Blondie, who I now knew was the captain, climbed onto the steering platform and threw the shifter back. The boat shuddered and reversed toward the open sea. As the captain steered us out, his crewmen produced a jar of pickles and a bottle of vodka.
I knew exactly what those pickles were for. My friend Nicholi, who lived two doors down from my dorm, had me drinking vodka pickle shots one night. It was a night of both fun and remorse.
Andre dodged an oncoming spray of seawater, as the boat charged forward. He sat down and rolled up his sleeves. “So, Anton, how’s your sister doing?” He grinned at the dark-haired man, who replied in Ukrainian shaking his fist in playful annoyance.
“You must join us!” Red said to Roman and me. “It’s bad luck if you don’t.”
“When in Rome,” I said to Roman and sat down. I took a glass from Anton on his way back up from the cabin.
“Come on, Wolfie,” Andre said. “Don’t tell me you can’t hold your vodka.”
“All right, I’ll take a free drink,” Roman said.
Red clapped his hands and poured shots for the five of us. I held my hand out in front of him once he was done. “Karo,” I said.
“Fedir,” Red said and clasped my hand in his.
Anton saved the jar of pickles from more saltwater crashing onto the deck. “So. We all know what the pickle is for?” he asked.
I fought to stay on my stool as the boat broke through a wave. “You smell the pickle, take the shot, then eat the pickle,” I said.
“Yah!” Fedir and Anton clapped again, celebrating I was in the loop on their tradition.
“When in Rome, eh?” Roman asked.
The face I gave him said I didn’t owe an explanation. I took a pickle and the others followed suit. “Why do sailors always drink? And why aren’t we drinking in the cabin?”
“Sea sickness,” Andre said. It’s worse if you stay in the cabin. Try to keep your eyes on the horizon until you’re used to the movement.”
“I see,” I said and readied my shot glass.
“Ura!” Anton called out and toasted me.
We clinked our glasses and continued as I directed. The pickle cooled the burning sensation of the vodka. The combination of the fiery drink and salty air was invigorating. They refilled their glasses. On the third refill, I covered the top of my glass with my hand.
The crew of the Sealord shared tales of what got them into fishing. The common theme was to be their own boss. They’d grown up with Andre as kids and worked as part of the fishing trade on the Black Sea. On occasion they did favors for the vampire underground to earn extra cash.
“Not all of us started in the underground when we were eight.” Fedir nodded at Andre. “And what about you, wolf?” The more drinks he had the thicker his accent got. “What type of vampire business carried you here? Not that we don’t appreciate an extra drinking buddy.”
“I’m here for her.” Roman nodded toward me and downed his drink. “To make sure she’s not carried off into oblivion, locked up in a dungeon somewhere,” he counted the mental list on his fingers, “or loses her sanity in blood lust.”
“The lady is free to choose her outcome herself,” Andre said, “and she was already in good company before you showed up.”
“You and I have different definitions of good, leech.”
Our companions halted. It was like they’d been flash frozen, making them unnaturally still. The type of still you would expect from an inanimate object. All three of them were not human.
The captain held the wheel still in his hands. The boat rocked through another wave. Sea water splashed onto the deck breaking the eerie quiet. I glanced at Roman and Andre’s tense stances, ready to pounce at any brisk movement.
“Ro?” I gingerly touched his hand. “Will you come get some air with me on the bow?” I kept my voice low and calm.
Roman got up without a word, keeping his attention on Andre, and once far enough away headed for the side stairs.
“Oh, Smoke.” Fedir shook his head. “It’s always a girl.”
I followed Roman and to my relief, our hosts regained their casual demeanor. My footsteps echoed against the steel stairs. “What were you thinking?” I asked.
“He started it. Karo, we don’t belong here. This type of floundering could get one of them killed.”
“Floundering? Ro, I’m half vampire. They’re not my enemies; they’re helping me. Half my family may be in Russia, and I am going to meet them.” I glared at him. “Whether you like it or not, it’s who I am, and it’s happening.”
Roman looked down to his shoes.
“Why, Ro? Why follow me?”
“Because, Karo, I would never let you go through with this alone. We’ve always been a team, and that night in the woods—” He caught my chin as I looked away. “It doesn’t change anything.”
My palms were sweaty. I hadn’t realized how much of me ran away from the intimacy of our sex. He drew me closer and anxiety turned into a ball in my throat. My inaction let him bring his lips to mine.
“I told you, I waited for it for a long time. Waited for you to be ready,” he said.
“I didn’t know. I knew you were always game for ramping up my sex life, but I didn’t know where you wanted it to go.”
“If I had it my way, Karo, we wouldn’t have left home. I would have taken over my father’s business, and I would have built us a house.”
I took a step back. “But that’s not our reality. I’m a fugitive back home. I can only go forward and take the leads I’ve been given. I’m doing this, Roman, and you need to respect my decision.”
“I will, if you’re not at risk,” he said.
Sounds of a low melody caught my attention, I looked around the bow and saw we were still alone. I turned back to Roman. “I wasn’t at risk down there. You have to trust me to make the right choices.”
“Fine,” he said.
“Okay,” I said then turned toward the chanting voices which erupted from the deck. It was the same song from a moment ago.
Andre and the crew stood against the afternoon sun. Anton and Andre swayed with arms interlocked. Vodka swashed out onto the floor from their glasses. Fedir sat with an empty bucket in his lap and drummed it while his baritone voice rang out over the makeshift drum. A high-toned voice echoed Fedir’s, which sounded like it belonged to the captain. He stood, drink in hand at the wheel, swaying with the rocking of the boat.
By the number of empty vodka bottles rolling back and forth on the deck, it was a wonder they could stand at all. The four of them, in tone, sang out in what I presumed to be Ukrainian, in rhythm with the beat of Fedir’s drum.
“Hay!” Anton’s glass flew through a splash of seawater.
They took respite breaks to sit down and enjoy each other’s company. Periodically one of them would start up again at random and the others would jump in. In time, Roman ditched the tension he carried in his shoulders, and when he started dancing, he was forgiven for insulting our hosts.
The boat jolted upward as it battled a new stray wave. Back and forth it rocked, as the inky waves smashed against the boat with a deep shudder. My stomach turned. We rocked backward, only to be sucked forward and downward again. My stomach inverted and my vision spun.
“You okay?” Andre asked. “You’re turning green.”
“I lost track of the horizon,” I said and groaned when my stomach summersaulted again.
“Blood?” Anton asked.
“No.” Andre ran down the stairs and disappeared into the cabin, while Anton poured me a drink. The idea of having a drink and pickle when I was about to throw up made me cringe. Andre reappeared with a platter of sandwiches. I took one off the
tray before it hit the table.
“Fedir loves food,” Andre said.
Anton held a drink out for me. “It helps.” He nodded. “You’ll see.”
I slammed it back. “Whatever works.”
They all cheered. Even Roman started to smile again. My stomach relaxed, and I decided joining the party was the best way to avoid seasickness. By the time I poured my fourth drink, I accomplished learning most of the words to their drinking song. As the sun started to set, we were all three sheets to the wind, including Roman.
“Storm!” The captain’s voice thundered over the ruckus. He clutched his hat and pointed ahead.
Anton and Fedir leapt from their seats and climbed the rails to peer out over the quickly darkening multi-colored sky.
“It’s moving too fast!” Anton called as he snatched a handful of rope. He tied a strand around his trunk and the opposite end onto the railing. With a swift toss, he threw the large mass of rope to Fedir. He caught the bundle of rope as his eyes bulged.
“Rogue wave!” Fedir’s voice reverberated through the air.
“To the cabin!” Andre screamed as Roman jumped from his seat.
My stomach slammed into the railing. Mist dusted my face as I froze. The wind and sea roared in front of us, coming to a menacing head with a colossal forty-foot wave.
“Karolina!” Andre’s voice echoed distantly in my ear.
I clutched the rail, as the massive wall of water surged into me.
Chapter Twelve
The Storm
I clung to the metal bar. The saltwater rushed by me. A salty taste leaked through my tight lips as I held my breath against the turbulence. My ears threatened to explode from the pressure of the wave rolling in on itself. I peeled my eyelids open against the rush of the sea and saw only the vessel I clung to and the blue storm of water. The ship rolled over in the power of the wave. I looked down to see vast, dark, murky sea. The sky above the surface must have matched the color of the bottomless water, as I couldn’t tell which way was up or down.
A shape stirred overhead. I looked up to see Andre clinging to a rope that swirled with the boat as it spun. He climbed hand over hand in the rip of current. The water clouded with bubbles as the boat twirled. The continuous motion was sickening. My lungs burned. Andre glided closer with each spin. He seized my middle and I clutched the rope. With each turn of the vessel the rope wound tighter around it, drawing us closer to the cabin.
Blackness crept inward from the corner of my eyes. My lungs prickled with heat from holding my breath. I looked at the mound of sinking steel we were entangled with. Water thrashed through my hair. I gripped the rope so hard I couldn’t feel my fingers. Pure fear kept me with the shipwreck, as it offered the immediate safety from being washed away into the oblivion of the sea. But what was the point? Be it the wide blue sea or tied to the wreckage, there was no air here.
My lungs fought against me, urging me to take a breath of water. My body started to shake. My eyes stared blankly at the cabin door. As it darkened from my view, belongings flew past the window and crashed onto the floor. It took a moment for my brain to register why they stood out to me. They fell. The debris didn’t glide weightlessly, the way they should have in water. There was no water there. There was air.
My hand thrust forward feeling blindly along the rope. I felt myself leave Andre’s arms. My muscles seared with the moment, deprived of oxygen. I yanked myself toward the cabin against the current. I stretched my arm out. My fingertips grazed the metal handle.
I jarred backward.
Andre’s steely fingers were clapped down on my ankle. He must have followed me up the rope and was now dragging me back. No. I fought mercilessly against him, kicking out with my free leg. He tugged on me harder, his grip unmoving. My final thrust of energy called my vision back in a rush. I contracted my legs to my chest and pumped them outward. They hit Andre in his chest.
Bubbles burst from his mouth and he recoiled his rope hand. He swung free, loose in the powerful rip of the wave’s current, dangling from my ankle. My grip on the rope vowed to let go with the added weight. My strength was depleted. My hands slid down the rope farther away from the cabin, air, and survival.
I looked down at him in the swarm of bubbles. I could shake him free…I could make it. Andre shook his head at me and screamed some inaudible words. Then blackness took me again. My chest ached, and I knew the burning in my lungs was in his too. The idea of letting him go then seemed horrible, because my pain was his.
My fingers found their way down to his other hand. He climbed up me, then wrapped his arms around my chest. It was just in time. My body let go. I started to convulse. My lungs swelled, and I felt the water trickle in through my nose.
The vessel turned, and with a rush of saltwater the weight of the sea around me was gone. My ears abruptly popped, and a cool gust of air hit me in the face. Gagging up seawater, I gasped for breath. My lungs felt heavy and labored, but the breeze—it was beautiful. Seagulls cried out to one another in the background. My hands trembled as I left Andre’s arms. I heaved and slumped over on the soaked deck.
“Anton!” Andre called through hoarse staggered breaths.
A rope tied onto the rail grew taut. “Over here!” He climbed up the rope and over the railing.
Andre rushed to his side “Where are the others?”
“They made it to the cabin.”
I rose to my knees and dragged the wet hair from my face. “How?” I asked. “How are we even here?”
“The cabin is airtight,” Anton said.
Andre walked to the steel cabin door and rapped on it loudly. “So long as the cabin door stays closed to lock in an air-pocket.” He banged again. “It will surface top up, when capsized.”
“The door has to stay closed,” Anton said, “to keep the vessel buoyant.”
“The air pocket makes it rise to the surface?” I asked.
Anton nodded. “Slowly. Depending on the strength of the wave.”
“What if the door opened under water?”
“Then we’d be on the sea floor right now.”
The cabin door swung open and Roman, Fedir, and the captain climbed out. The three of them were covered in sandwich and cabin debris.
“Hail the Sea King!” Fedir thrust his fist into the air.
“She’s old,” the captain said, “but unsinkable.” He slapped Roman on the back with a laugh. I looked at Roman, covered in mustard, lettuce, and motor oil. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It wasn’t just Roman wearing lettuce; it was the whole situation. I almost killed everyone. I crunched down and held my stomach. At first everyone had joined in, but when I didn’t stop laughing, the deck started to quiet.
I cleared my throat and the jitters passed. “What do we do now?”
The captain climbed the steering platform and turned the ignition. “So long as she starts, we get the hell out of here.”
The first few times the boat wouldn’t start. After air-drying the spark plugs, we finally had ignition. Then we waited ten minutes for the pumps to purge the engine. It sputtered to life, and we were in motion once more.
“That wave was too big,” Anton said. “The sea was too calm for such a wave to appear out of nowhere.”
“There’s magic afoot,” Fedir said and turned to Andre. “To conjure a wave that size, it takes power. The wave was made to drown anything in its path—meant to kill.” Fedir’s words hung in the air as he met Andre’s gaze.
“We intended to travel by air,” Andre said, “but we thought being on the water would throw off any tracking spells. I didn’t yet have confirmation; it was just speculation. I didn’t think they would come after us here.” He looked at the faces of his friends. “I’m sorry.”
The crewmen surveyed Andre for a moment, then nodded their heads. Fedir patted Andre on the shoulder.
“Either way, friend, its magic meant to kill. Best to stay on the move,” Anton said. “This has gone beyond a favor. I assume this is underground bu
siness?”
Andre nodded his head.
The captain looked over his shoulder. “Then we’ll get you to Russia, quickly. Better Sochi than Novorossiysk. They’ll be watching Novo for certain. I’ll find a small harbor. Andre can spell the boat, so our arrival is undetected. We’ll sleep in shifts for the night, one to man the wheel and the other to watch for anything awry.” He looked down at me. “This way everyone will have time to make it to the cabin.”
I gave him a nod. Guilt turned into a rock in the pit of my stomach.
The boat rocked through the waves once more, as we continued east. The waves felt choppier than before. The captain and Andre took first watch. Roman and I headed to the cabin where Fedir and Anton would join us once they’d secured the deck.
“We should turn back.” Roman said once we were inside.
I looked around for a spot in the cabin which wasn’t covered in sandwich bread. “If it was quicker to turn back the crew would have said so.” I decided there was no clear spot and took a nearby broom and started sweeping up the trash. “Plus, it’s obvious the wave was only sent because whoever is tracking us saw us disappear on the coast. They probably didn’t know our exact location, so they sent the wave.” I knew I was presumptive, but it served my point for the moment. “With any luck, they’ll think no one could have survived it.”
“We shouldn’t assume anything. They may have known exactly where we were,” Roman said. “The crewmen were right. There was an intense amount of magic behind that wave spell.” He sat down on the horseshoe bench which lined the cabin, and the blue vinyl upholstery crunched underneath his weight.
“Yes, so the culprit may be momentarily drained. I can’t imagine how much energy it would suck from a person to conjure a spell with so much force to create a forty-foot wave.” I blocked out the memory of being thrashed in the surf.
“Fifty. Do you think it was dark magic?” Roman asked. “I mean, for someone who commands Shadow Forged and vampires with the Dark Charm, it would make sense.” Roman shifted, trying to get comfortable on the bench.