Chapter 2
The ocean tried to keep me.
Every wave slapped over my face.
My boots pulled at my legs.
My soaked uniform turned heavy as chains.
I could still see the Resolute moving away.
No alarm.
No man-overboard siren.
No life ring.
Kane had not just pushed me.
He had ordered silence.
I kicked harder.
My chest burned.
Salt filled my throat.
Then a shape dropped from the side of the ship.
Orange.
A flotation ring.
It splashed twenty yards away.
Someone had thrown it.
Someone had disobeyed.
I fought toward it with arms that felt like stone.
Behind me, a small rescue craft engine coughed to life.
Then shouted voices burst across the water.
“Mercer!”
“Hold on!”
I grabbed the ring and wrapped one arm through it.
My vision narrowed.
The rescue craft reached me minutes later, though it felt like years.
Two sailors dragged me aboard.
One was Chief Ortiz.
The other was the signalman who had collapsed earlier, pale and shaking but alive.
His name patch read WILLS.
He gripped my sleeve.
“I told them you fell,” he whispered.
I coughed seawater.
“You lied badly.”
His mouth trembled.
“I said you were pushed after.”
Chief Ortiz pressed a blanket around me.
“Save your breath.”
The rescue craft turned back toward the ship.
Above us, the rail was packed.
Kane was gone.
Of course he was.
Men like him never stayed at the edge after shoving someone over.
They retreated into authority and paperwork.
When we reached the ladder, medics hauled me up.
My ribs screamed.
My lungs burned.
The flight deck had changed.
The formation had broken.
People stared at me like I had risen from a grave.
Kane stood near the hatch with two officers beside him.
His face was smooth again.
Controlled.
“Petty Officer Cole,” he said. “You lost your footing during a disciplinary confrontation.”
I staggered upright.
Chief Ortiz put a hand near my elbow but did not touch unless I needed it.
I looked at Kane.
“No, sir.”
The deck went silent.
Kane’s eyes narrowed.
“No?”
“You kicked me.”
A ripple moved through the crowd.
Kane smiled.
“Heat stress can cause confusion.”
I stepped closer.
My wet boots left dark marks on the steel.
“Good thing five hundred witnesses saw clearly.”
His gaze swept the deck.
Faces dropped.
Fear returned.
That was Kane’s kingdom.
Not the ship.
Fear.
He leaned toward me.
“Medical. Now.”
The medic reached for me.
I nodded because I needed the infirmary.
Not for treatment.
For access.
The sick bay log.
Eli’s old file.
The missing water records.
The infirmary smelled like antiseptic and warm plastic.
Lieutenant Graves, the ship’s doctor, checked my ribs with shaking hands.
“You should not have provoked him,” he whispered.
I stared at him.
“That your medical opinion?”
His face flushed.
“You do not know what he can do.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
I pulled the blanket tighter.
“Where is Wills?”
“Observation.”
“Dehydration?”
Graves hesitated.
“Heat exhaustion.”
“Because Kane withheld water.”
He looked toward the door.
“Lower your voice.”
“Why?”
No answer.
I leaned forward.
“Six months ago, Corporal Eli Mercer died aboard this vessel. You signed the heatstroke report.”
Graves went still.
I watched the color leave his face.
“You knew my brother?”
He swallowed.
“I treated him.”
“You falsified his cause of death.”
His eyes filled instantly.
That surprised me.
Guilt was useful.
Fear was more useful.
“He was already gone when they brought him,” Graves whispered.
“From Deck Four?”
He grabbed my wrist.
“Do not say that here.”
The door opened.
Kane stepped inside.
Graves released me like I was burning.
Kane looked between us.
“How touching. Medical bonding.”
I sat back.
Kane smiled at Graves.
“Is Petty Officer Cole fit for confinement?”
Graves froze.
“Sir?”
“She assaulted a superior officer and caused disorder on deck.”
I laughed.
It hurt my ribs.
Kane turned to me.
“You find this amusing?”
“No, sir. I find it predictable.”
His smile disappeared.
He stepped close enough that only I could hear.
“You should have stayed drowned.”
Then he turned.
“Chief Ortiz.”
Ortiz stood in the doorway.
“Sir.”
“Escort Petty Officer Cole to temporary confinement.”
Ortiz’s jaw tightened.
“Aye, sir.”
As they took me down the passageway, I looked back once.
Graves stood pale in sick bay.
His hand was pressed to his pocket.
He had something.
A record.
A note.
May you like
Maybe the thing he had been too afraid to give anyone.
I needed to survive long enough to get it.
