Page 43 of Raven’s Claw (Raven’s Cliff #2)
Prologue
The Vigilant.
US Coast Guard contract research vessel.
Classified mission, s omewhere off the Oregon Coast.
Screaming.
Rising above the pounding in her head. Mixing with the crash of the waves against the hull. The distant roll of thunder.
Lieutenant Commander Saylor O’Conner pushed onto her hands and knees, arms shaking, ears ringing. She moved one leg underneath her, nearly falling when everything shifted — the deck. The boat. Her damn memories.
She’d been inspecting the Zodiac. Double checking it could withstand the inbound storm — had enough supplies if any worst-case scenarios manifested out of the wind and the rain — when a deafening tone had pulsed through the air.
There’d been confusion and pain — faces fading in and out of focus — then her waking with her body plastered to the molded floorboards, nothing but empty memories filling the time between.
Even now, as she fell back on her ass, everything seemed jumbled.
Just disjointed voices amidst utter blackness.
She closed her eyes, trying to let the world stabilize before stumbling to her feet and tripping against the console, her head throbbing and her legs threatening to buckle. She waited, breath held, hands fisted around the panel until the dizziness eased.
Taking a chance, she gazed out at the horizon, praying the constant pitching didn’t set her off.
Only a hint of the sun sat above the water as a thick band of dark clouds quickly bore down on the ship.
A few errant raindrops splattered across the windshield, the stinging cold lifting some of her lingering fogginess.
More screams cut through the numbing haze, followed by quick dull pops.
What she swore was semi-automatic gunfire until that eerie tone lit the air, again.
Stronger. Louder. Derailing her thoughts and dropping her to her knees as pain shot through her head, then into her chest. She covered her ears, but that barely diminished the ambient noise.
Nothing dulled those vibrations rattling through her skull.
She blinked, and everything had shifted, again. Any hint of daylight gone as the wind howled across the deck, blowing rain and spray against her face. The Vigilant listed aimlessly left and right with every swell, creaking and groaning against the strain.
Saylor grabbed the console, then dragged her butt onto the seat, bracing her elbows on her knees as she sucked in air, then pushed it out.
She focused on the deck, waiting for the pain to ease before straightening.
It took a few tries, but she finally managed to stand without immediately falling onto her ass.
Her legs shook as she took a few stumbling steps, but at least she was upright.
Her boots scuffed the floor as she covered the short distance to the side. The ship’s lights cast ghostly shadows across the deck, the lines swinging against the increasing winds.
Actually climbing out of the Zodiac and onto the deck took more effort than it should have, and she fell the last few feet, landing in a heap on the platform. Her stomach roiled, and she scrambled to the edge — puked off the side.
It took a few minutes to gather her strength before she pushed off the railing — took stock.
The deck was empty.
No crewman, no scientists. Just her and a few hours’ worth of unanswered questions.
She needed to find Maddox. Ensure the rear admiral’s safety. Then, they could make a plan. Figure out what had happened — get the ship back on course.
She headed for the bridge, bracing her weight on the railing as the Vigilant rose and fell with each violent wave.
Water crashed across the deck, spreading the width of the ship before retreating over the edge.
She got halfway to the stairwell when another pulse boomed beneath her.
The force knocked her onto her backside as the ship’s lights surged, glowing twice as bright before exploding in a shower of glass and filaments.
Plunging the Vigilant into utter darkness.
Pain clouded her vision, every thought quickly crushed by the endless humming inside her head. She stood, legs shaking, her vision a mix of blurry gray bulkheads and black dots. But she managed to unclip her flashlight from her belt and grope her way along.
Were those lights flashing in the distance? Red and green? Slowly getting closer?
She blinked, nearly fell, then scanned the surface.
Nothing. No lights. No boats. Just endless white caps curling across the ocean.
She gave herself a mental shake, then tumbled through the hatch and into the stairwell.
The ship tilted with the next wave, staying slightly off-kilter, this time, as lightning flashed beyond the windows.
She staggered up the short flight, her stomach threatening to empty from the constant shifting of the small beam, before she reached the bridge.
She took a breath, shoved open the door, then peered inside.
Shadows filled the room, the helm aimlessly turning with the current. She stepped inside, falling against the rear bulkhead when the ship tipped up, cresting a huge wave before dropping off the other side. Water crashed over the bow, spraying across the glass as the vessel bobbed along the surface.
They should be moving. Making a run for the coast before the storm cracked the damn ship in two.
The hull was already singing. An eerie tone she knew preceded a catastrophic failure.
The kind legends were wrought from. Except where she couldn’t quite remember how to get it all going.
Which levers to push. How to activate the beacon.
She scanned the instruments, trying to get a single thought to take hold, when she spotted someone spread out across the floor. She tripped her way over, then stopped dead.
“Captain Baker?”
Saylor went to her knees, felt for a pulse.
Thready, but there.
She grabbed his arm and rolled him onto his back. Blood dripped from his ears, a grimace curving his mouth. He groaned, eyelids fluttering. He managed to open them for a moment, gasp, before drifting off.
Where the hell was the rest of the crew?
Where was Maddox?
She stood, then made her way to the radio. She didn’t know if the damn thing had any power, but she’d make the call. Hope someone heard.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the Vigilant …”
Her voice trailed off, each word like a knife to her skull. She stared at the handset, trying to piece together what to say — remember where she’d left off — when the floor creaked behind her. She spun, toppled against the bulkhead, then bounced the beam toward the door.
Rear Admiral Maddox stood in the hatchway, dried blood across his forehead. His eyes widened before he cursed and took a step inside. “Saylor? What the hell are you still doing onboard? I gave the evacuation order an hour ago.”
She frowned. “Evacuation?”
He covered the short distance, taking the handset out of her hand. “Did you make a mayday call?”
Why was he yelling? Sending more dots dancing across her vision.
She groaned, palming her temples. “I tried, but..”
He simply nodded. “We need to get off the ship. I’ve got the research. Is the Zodiac seaworthy?”
“Yes, I…” She squinted. “Baker’s hurt. We’ll have to carry him out.”
Maddox sighed. “There’s not much time before this damn storm rips the Vigilant apart.”
“I’m not leaving anyone behind.”
He nodded, helped her lift Baker until the man was bridged between them, each shouldering half his weight.
Baker roused enough to occasionally lift his feet as they stumbled down the stairs, then onto the deck.
Saylor grabbed the railing with her other hand, then started moving.
Slowly. Each step harder than the last. She passed where the starboard lifeboat should have been, noting the empty lines, then kept going, tripping her way back to the Zodiac, Maddox moving beside her.
Steady. Oddly coherent considering she could barely string two thoughts together before everything went sideways.
They reached the stern, one side of the Zodiac dipping lower than the other, the broken line snapping in the wind. The harness console was dead, but she managed to access the manual override and lower the boat until it was level with the deck.
She waved Maddox on. “You and Baker get onboard. I’ll lower you the rest of the way, then climb down.”
“Not this time, Saylor. You take Baker and get everything ready. That’s an order. I’ll be right behind you.”
She frowned, though, maybe this was more about him being the last person off the ship. The age-old tradition she suspected had been bred into him. And with Baker barely conscious, Maddox was technically the acting captain, even if he’d only been visiting the ship for an inspection.
Getting Baker over the side and onto a seat nearly drained her.
Remaining on her feet after releasing him, an act of providence because she swore everything had shifted.
Tilted off to the right, with more of those dots closing in from the sides.
She glanced back at Maddox, a thought finally cracking through the haziness as she stopped just short of the helm. “Why didn’t you go with the others?”
“I needed to secure the research, in case the ship falls into the wrong hands. Which won’t matter if we don’t get off her before she snaps in two.”
She nodded. Not much, but enough he understood, then stepped behind the wheel. She’d need to get the engines going and the boat moving before the waves smashed the Zodiac against the hull. Or worse, capsized them on the spot.