My mind awakes before my body does. As I begin to comprehend the fact that I am waking up, I am suddenly aware of cold air. Then I remember what has happened, and everything floods back to my memory like a tidal wave. I open my eyes and sit up like lightening.

"Ow." In my quick decision to sit up I hadn't figured on the fact that I had been sleeping under a bench of the rowboat. Consequently, in sitting up I had painfully wacked my head against it.

I maneuver my head out from under the bench and look upon my arm. Tintin has sure done a good job of making it look spiffy. My arm is wrapped in a makeshift sling made of a worn ship blanket, and my forearm, where I had been shot, is wrapped in a separate cloth. I can see a bit of blood seeping underneath the layers of the makeshift bandage and my arm starts to painfully throb as if on cue.

Besides me is Snowy, sleeping as I had been. I push the tiny dog over and he stirs, but doesn't wake up. Finally I manage to get myself off the floor of the boat and stand up, setting my both the boat and my woozy-self to rocking. "Ah, yer finally awake." The Captain says, who happens to be at the oars.

"Yes." I say, wondering at the fact of seeing Tintin splayed out on the last bench with his arm dangling in the water.

"Oh him, he's just asleep. It's been at leest thre' hours since he got that bullut out of yeh. I reckon it's at least eight alreedy!"

At the mention of 'bullet' I find my arm seems to hurt even more, and I feel the pain growing over my senses. I sit down on the bench I had been lying under, finding it hard to believe that the ordeal only happened three hours ago. "Man alive, I'm stuck in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with nearly no hope of rescue." I say with a yawn and mostly to myself, gazing at the sparkling blue sea stretching for miles in every direction.

"Aye. I've been rowing since Tintin fell asleep, and 'ave gotten no sleep myself." He says gruffly, and takes a moment to rub his arms.

I sigh, and say, "Well, I would take a turn, but it's not like I can with this throbbing arm." I move my slinged arm up and down, only to have the throbbing pain increase. The Captain grunts in agreement, and I ask, "What happened after I lost consciousness?"

"Well, Tintin made fast work and got that nasty bullut out of yer arm. Couldn't peel my eyes away from his work, though the sight of blood does make me a bit queasy. Of coarse being a sea-fairer like meself I don't let a bit of queasiness get the best of me. Than he poured whiskey right in the wound-"

"He what?" I interrupt, my head snapping up to look at the Captain. Well, to look at the back of the Captain's head, considering where I am sitting.

He turns his head a bit towards me and answers, "He poored whiskey. In the wound. Cleans it out ya see. Cleans out anything really, you would'na want to know what it does to-"

"Oh, well, I see." I hurriedly say, not wanting to listen pointlessly to the Captain talk on and on. For no reason whatsoever I decide that am going to go sit over by the sleeping Tintin, and after much "sorry's", "ow!" and "watch your step you'll tip us ooll over!" I get past the Captain and sit next to Tintin. I keep glancing at the boy's hand just dangling in the cold water, until it finally bugs me so much that I decide to do something about it. I carefully balance myself and lean over to swing his arm back into the boat. The boy doesn't even stir. I find it rather odd that he fell asleep like that. How strange.

After a few minutes of me just staring out into the open ocean thinking about how I am going to starve to death, how much my arm hurts, and about Sakharine, I decide to ask a question. "Captain, where are you rowing to? I mean, why?" Is he even aware that we are in the middle of the Atlantic, and that rowing won't do any good?

"Why, I'm getting us to Bagghar!"

"Bagghar?" I ask. The word seems strange and foreign to my tongue and I am wondering if the Captain has finally cracked.

"Yes, that's where that dog-of-a-man Sakharine is heading," the captain replies as if I know what on earth he is talking about. "Blistering Barnacles, I forgot you were asleep when Tintin showed me this."

I turn around to grab the piece of paper he is handing me. It is a travel leaflet about Bagghar, and I quickly open it with interest, seeing that the Captain actually knew what he was talking about. I scan through the pages, reading about an Arab-looking man named Omar Ben Salaad and how he rules over the port of Bagghar in Morocco. The picture taking up most of the third page is what captures my inquisitive gaze. As my eyes look over the picture of a model ship's masts and grand sides, I see a golden unicorn on its helm and the inscription "The Unicorn" written on the side of the model. "Why, why it's the Unicorn!" I say in surprise.

"Aye, and Sakharine is heading there to steal it. Tintin says that it's kept in some sort of bullet proof case, but that piece of scum has some sort of secret weapon or something."

"Huh." I say, still absorbed in the detailed model. So this is what everything is about, this is the ship that sunk under the command of Sir Francis four hundred years ago. The same ship that had carried some unknown secret just as the model replicas do today. I try to put all the pieces of this case that I understand together in my head as I stare out into expanse of endless ocean shimmering under the new sun. Sakharine is clearly after whatever great secret these scrolls from the Unicorn models lead too. There is three of them; Ben Salaad has one, Sakharine has one, and the other is well, I don't know but Tintin and Sakharine both don't have it. Apparently you need all three to solve whatever there is to solve. Also, all this has something to do with Haddock, because his ancestor was Sir Francis, but what does that even mean? It's not like Captain Haddock can go back in time and visit the original Captain, and I don't see why he is of any use to Sakharine.

My thoughts trail off with no answers, so I decide to read the rest of the pamphlet. By the time I finish I am very educated on more than I need to know about the port city, but still it is interesting compared to reading nothing in silence on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. It also distracted me from my arm, so overall I am very thankful for it. I put the pamphlet down, and look back at the Captain, who is still rowing with his exaggerated moans of exhaustion. I lean my good arm on the tip edge of the boat and lean my head on it, and a shiver goes down my spine from the cold. My eyes close and I feel myself drifting off to a welcome sleep. It is just how one would feel lying down on a couch during a summer day, despite the fact that it is much colder right now.

"I'm so cold," I hear the Captain murmur.

"Mhhmmmm." I answer, not really comprehending what the Captain is saying, and don't even bother to try to understand whatever he mumbles next. I just want to sleep.

The sound of an odd crackle and someone saying, "Maude, Tintin!" brings me out of my slumber and I sit up slowly. I blink a few times at the cold sun reflecting off the water and groan as the pain in my arm returns. My stars, I certainly feel more than a bit groggy! Hopefully my blood-loss isn't playing a factor in it. Suddenly I feel heat behind me and turn around, almost knocking the sleeping Tintin off the boat. Oh my gosh.

"CAPTAIN!" I yell, my eyes wide. Now he has cracked. Or am I still asleep or delirious? Right before my eyes, smack dab in the middle of the boat is a fire. The Captain is warming himself by a blazing, burning, crackling fire.

"Come warm yourself Maude, and Tintin." He says, as if lighting a boat on fire is commonplace.

Apparently I had woken Tintin when I had tripped over him, as he starts scrambling to stand up. He hurriedly and looks at me, his face showing exactly how surprised and horrified I feel. "What have you done!?" Tintin demands.

"No need to thank me." The Captain starts.

"What?" Tintin asks in utter disbelief, and I start to panic.

"I just built a wee fire-"

"In a boat!?" Tintin exclaims, and I hurry the few steps and start splashing water on it with my right hand.

"On an ocean!?" I add, for good measure. The fire is burning through the wood fast, certainly the bottom will go out soon! I have to step back a bit because of the heat, and watch with horror as the Captain grabs one of the oars. Well, there is only one oar anyway, since the other is already burning in the fire. Not that one oar would do much but paddle us in circles...

"Those are our oars, we need those oars!" Tintin says, and I for the first time since I've met him I hear a hint of panic in his voice.

"Not for much longer!" The Captain says, and breaks it with a crack against the side of the boat. Snowy wines, but doesn't move from where he is huddled into the corner as far away from the fire as possible.

My mouths drops open in disbelief and I yell, "We needed those! To get to Bagghar! You said so yourself!"

"Have you gone mad!?" Tintin asks, as if lighting a fire on a lifeboat using oars as firewood in the middle of the ocean hasn't made the answer obvious.

"Yes, yes he has! Come on!" I say, and brave the heat in order start splashing water again.

Tintin starts to help me, saying, "Captain, you've got to help us! Quick Maude!"

I see that the water is barely doing anything, and that just us two aren't going to be able to put it out. "Now, Captain!" I say, pleading desperately.

Finally, the Captain seems to realize that the fire is a bad idea. I hear him say, "What have I done, what have I done?"

"No, not that!" Tintin yells, and I look up and jump back as fast as I can. The Captain is pouring a bottle of whiskey all over the fire. With a scream from me and a yell from Tintin, the two of us jump back to the other end of the boat as a loud explosion sends heat towards us at an un-measurable speed.

I stand up with a cough, and wince as the pain in my arm increases due to being slammed against the side of the boat. In a fleeting thought I realize that the whiskey was no doubt the cause of the Captain's madness. The middle of the small lifeboat is black and steaming in the cool morning air.

"Damn."

I quickly glance up at Tintin, surprised at have heard a foul word come from his lips. I mean, I would've said it, and certainly did in my head, but we have certainly been in much worse situations and he never said a disgraceful word. We both glare over at the Captain, who has Snowy whimpering at his feet. He looks honestly sorry, but also bewildered.

"The boat, it's sinking!" he exclaims, and I look down to see water already seeping through the burned wood.

"Great, just great." I say sarcastically, and look to Tintin.
He puts his hands on his face for only a moment in utter frustration, than says, "Come, we need to flip the boat over. Now. Jump out!"

"But the water's so cold, and my clothes are still damp," I whine, but with the look Tintin gives me I slip right into the water. Or more like flop into the water.

As soon as my head pops up I open my eyes. Unfortunately that results in instant stinging from the salt water. Goodness, I feel like a rock trying to stay afloat with these heavy clothes and one arm. Tintin and Snowy have already jumped in.

"Come on Captain, jump!" Tintin says, treading water with ease beside me. Tintin helps me towards the boat so that I can grab on, and just as I do Captain Haddock jumps in right beside me and splashes me full on in the face.

"Ow!" I say, the water stinging my eyes even more now as it drips down from my hair. I must keep them open, though, I must. Surprisingly my wound doesn't sting from the salt water, but it still has that unbearable pain.

"Come on, help me flip it over." Tintin says. Everyone who has a hand free, which wouldn't be Snowy, as his paws aren't good for this sort of thing, starts pushing the boat's side up.

With a final splash the boat flips over onto its back, not unlike a turtle. However, turtles, when tipped on their back, look like a right side up boat. However, that is certainly not something to occupy my thoughts while I am in the cold Atlantic ocean.

The Captain clambers up first, and I have to back up to avoid his kicking his feet as he pulls himself up. "Captain, help me up." Tintin says, reaching his hand up towards Captain Haddock.

It doesn't take Tintin near as much time as it did Captain Haddock to get on top of the small boat, and the very next second he is telling me, "Maude, help Snowy up."

The poor dog is pawing along the side of the boat, not being able to get his claws stuck in the wood. "I can't. I only have one arm, I can't grab him and hand him to you." I say honestly. I just want to get out of the water!

Tintin sighs and tries to not fall head first into the ocean as he grabs Snowy. I manage to push the furry dog's back-end up while Tintin pulls on his front legs.

"Snowy!" Tintin pleads as the dog shakes himself dry, spraying the two men in the face.

"Now, would you please help me up?" I ask. I hold on with my only good hand onto the side of the boat and try to pull myself up.

Both Tintin and Haddock help me up. That is certainly no small feat. Though I might be short and small, I am still a healthy weight, only have useful one arm, and my soaking clothing is causing drag. Finally, after much pulling and kicking I can sit up besides the others. I try to keep my skirt down where it is suppose to be and resume a sorrowful face as the cool breeze chills my dripping body. I glance out into the open ocean, which now seems even bigger than before, and am thankful for the now warmer sun shining down on us.

"Thundering typhoons," the Captain says very sorrowfully and I glance over at him. I don't feel angry over the incident, just frustrated. Very frustrated.

"Well this is a fine mess we're in." Tintin says, gesturing at the ocean surrounding us. He pulls out a revolver from his shirt and drains the water from the barrel. He must have kept it after the ship chase.

I sigh in agreement, while the Captain whines, "Weak."

"We're stranded here," Tintin continues while turning the gun over in his hand.

"Selfish."

"Yes you are," I say matter-of-faculty in response to the Captain's demeaning proclamation.

"With no hope of rescue."

My thoughts become even sadder at Tintin's words and I stare off sorrowfully at water lapping gently by my feet. It shall surely be my deathbed.

"Hopeless," the Captain continues, and I open my mouth to say something but Tintin beats me to it.

"While Sakhrine and his men are half way to Bagghar."

"We are going to die." I say softly and under my breath, but it is still loud enough for them to hear. I turn my attention to my sling, wishing the annoying pain would cease.

"Pour, Miserable Wretch!" Captain Haddock says louder at nearly the same time as when I spoke, and he punches himself lightly in the face.

"Yes alright, that's enough of that. From the both of you!" Tintin says as he tucks the gun back into his shirt, finally as annoyed with the Captain as I am. Wait, had he included me in that? I glare at the boy and hold back my tongue from saying something sassy and rude. I was merely stating a fact, and now that I think of it, so was Haddock!

Then we are silent. Okay, fine, maybe hearing the man rant on in his drunken state about how stupid he is and was is better than just sitting here not saying anything. My arm starts to hurt even more, and I grind my teeth together as a wave of pain washes over me.

"How is your arm feeling?" Tintin asks, eyebrows raised and eyes looking towards my arm.

I manage a weak smile and say, "It hurts like the dickens, but I can manage it. Oh, and thank you for getting the bullet out."

"That's to be expected, I don't think the pain will go away for a very long time. Well, I do what I can, even if I don't know how to properly do it. Glad it only touched the bone and didn't lodge itself by an artery, for I surely would've caused it to be cut." He says, just looking out into the ocean.

Well that's reassuring. And pain for who-knows-how-long? Well, it's not like we'll last more than a few days anyway, if that. "Maybe the bullet should've just hit my heart," I say mournfully and look into Tintin's eyes, and he gives me a disapproving look.

"It was his fault you see, it was Sir Francis." The Captain says, taking our attention away from my pour, pitiful arm.

"Tell me, how did you work that one out?" Tintin asks sarcastically, and I snort. As soon as I do I realize that I have snorted, and not chuckled like I should have, I feel my cheeks go red with embarrassment.

Thankfully they don't seem notice, and the Captain continues talking without taking notice of how sarcastic Tintin was. "Because he was a figure head of great courage and bold exploits. No one like him ever existed like him in my family," he sighs, and I furrow my brow. Why is he talking about Sir Francis? "Why do you think I drink? Because I know I'll never be like him." Well, that's rather sad. But still, blaming your drinking on a long deceased ancestor? Not a valid excuse in my book. I notice Snowy looking off behind us attentively and look that way, and I squint as I look into the distance but don't see anything.

The Captain starts to stand up on the wobbly boat, saying, "No, it's far better that I end it now. Put us all out of our misery." He proceeds to shake Tintin's hand and reaches over to shake mine, and I just glance up at him very confused.

Snowy whines quietly, and I look back to the dog. "What is it Snowy?" Tintin asks.

"There's nothing out there, you silly." I say and scratch the dog's neck, but Snowy doesn't even acknowledge that I am touching him. Tintin doesn't seem to believe me and stares out into the distance as he rubs his hand over Snowy's head and the dog looks up at him. I cannot help but feel a bit jealous that the dog obviously has a favorite, but whip my head up when I hear a buzzing sound.

"I'm going to lure myself out into the sea, into the cold embrace, the big blue-" The Captain says, to himself, but the rest of us pay no attention.

"It's a plane, we'll be rescued!' I yell with joy as soon as I see the metal shimmering in the air. It seems to be heading towards us!

Tintin doesn't seem to share in my excitement, rather, he just continues to stare at it carefully. "Those are Portuguese markings," he says, and I frown. Why should make any difference? "Where is the Karabujan registered?" Tintin asks the Captain, who finally sees the plane flying towards us.

Instead of answering, Captain Haddock turns around and says, "We're saved. We're saved! Oh it's a sign from above!" He falls to his knees, but I barely notice as I keep my eyes on the yellow sea plane. It is flying very low and seems to be heading straight for us.

Suddenly, my heart leaps to my throat as I recognize the sound of an automatic weapon firing, and as bullets splash into the water around us I scream and duck down. Panic and fear surge through every one of my veins. Now that I know what a bullet feels like, and still feels like, the idea of being shot makes this so much more frightening. Well, there is no hope of this plane rescuing us now. I look up as the firing stops and see the plane speeding away from us, and I pray under my breath that it won't come back. That isn't likely, but still.

"I think I want to drown." I say, still thinking about the bullets and I look at Tintin, who is my last hope.

Snowy barks at the plane, which has started circle back. I still have some time to decide if I wish to drown or be shot. The Captain stands back up and yells while showing his clenched fists, "Fraggladites!" Oh dear, he really is still drunk isn't he?

"Captain, get down!" Tintin urges him, and I grab Snowy onto my lap with my good arm and hold him for all I've got, hoping that the warm being in my arm might bring me some comfort.

"Next time we are stuck on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic with a plane trying to eliminate us off the face of the earth, make a note that we don't have a drunk man with us." I say in a desperate try at a bit of humor, because in the moment I really don't know what to do. Tintin gives me the quickest, faintest grin before turning his attention to the oncoming plane.

The Captain doesn't get down and continues to yell what he considers insults, but I consider the weirdest idioms I've ever heard. "Slave traders! Mutant Malingerers! Fresh water! Politicians!"

Tintin crouches down on the half of the turtle boat that is slopped away from the plane, and I release Snowy so that I can do the same. How I manage to not fall face first into the water is a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes, as the boat is rather tippy. Tintin pulls out the pistol he had drained not long before, and I feel a spark of hope. "Bad news Captain, we've only got one bullet," he says, and that spark of hope is instantly put out and changes to a flame of dread as that fateful plane comes closer and closer.

"And what's the good news?" Captain Haddock asks.

"That if we're lucky we'll die quickly." I say, eyes still on the plane.

"The good news is: we've got one bullet."

I finally take my eyes away from the plane for an instant and I look at Tintin and wonder at those words of confidence. If I were the one with the revolver, I would sooner shoot myself in the head than attempt to waste the shot on my poor aim.

Tintin holds out his arm and aims. The plane starts firing at us, catching me a bit off guard. I duck down with a scream, and find myself slipping off into the water. I grab madly for a handhold amidst the splashes of bullets, and somehow I manage to grab onto Captain Haddock's leg. In doing so, I knock him off balance and he tumbles down towards me. I hastily duck underwater and push away from the boat to avoid being landed upon.
As my head pops up out of the water, before I even open my eyes, I hear Haddock say, "You got her!"

I kick myself the few feet to the boat and grab onto it. I peek around the edge and see the plane smoking. It soon lands in the water only a hundred or so meters from us. Tintin jumps in besides the Captain and I with a small splash. I am pleasantly surprised that I am not splashed in the face; he should hire himself out for lessons to Captain Haddock on splashing. I smile at him and say, "Nice shot! You've saved us! Now what are you going to do?" I made sure to say 'you' instead of something that included me, because my arm is still hurting and battling pilots isn't my forte.

"Wait here." Tintin says, takes a breath, and dives under the blue before Captain Haddock or I can speak a single word. I look over to the Captain in surprise, who looks as curious to see what Tintin is doing as I am. I smile at poor Snowy, who is barely managing to keep himself afloat beside me. I feel extremely joyful that I am still alive.

"Peek around the corner, lass." The Captain says, and I maneuver myself to the other corner of the boat.

As stealthily as I can I peer around the tip and focus my gaze on the little plane. Two men that look fit for the Karabujon, which is very likely, are standing on the side of the plane doing something or other, probably looking at the engine. I search the water for Tintin's form, and than look back to the plane. I can't see him at all! I hope that a shark isn't eating him. Sharks. Oh no, I shouldn't think of those. My skin crawls as I realize that I have miles of water with creatures I've never even heard of beneath me. My heart rate accelerated due to the thought of unknown creatures, I decide to try to take my mind off of that and look back towards the plane. I see the two men holding their hands up and looking down at something. There is Tintin, in the water, pointing the empty gun at the two men. Brilliant, truly brilliant, not to mention brave.

"Harrah, he's got it Captain, he's got it!" I say happily, and turn with a smile towards the now happy, yet still-drunk man treading water a few feet away from me. We are one step closer to surviving!


Wow, finally took the time to edit this. College takes up so much time! I don't think I'll get another chapter out anytime soon, but hopefully it won't take as long as this one did! Thanks for the reviews, it really keeps me going!