** Author's Note: Amy's words below are from "Good Wives" by Alcott – the chapter titled "My Lord and Lady". Actually spoken by Amy, the quote seemed fitting. **
A roll of thunder vibrated over Plumfield's roof like a wave, the echoes moving through Jo at the late hour. It wasn't that she was asleep; her mind was doing an excellent job of keeping her awake. But the sudden onset of the storm gave her an uneasy feeling. I guess the Widow's Walk is out of the question, she thought, wrapping the bed quilt tightly around her.
The rain started slowly but soon gained strength as the downpour pounded against the windows. Jo rolled out of bed, candle in hand and made her way to the wingback chair that sat within the south alcove. Sitting curled up in the blanket, she fished out the hidden paper in her dressing gown pocket, craving comfort in the words. Nick must have spent a fortune on telegrams after arriving in Jamaica; while the children's letter was short but encouraging, what he had sent to Jo was quite lengthy and she could tell he was anxious to come home.
She unfolded the page; it would have been nice to see Nick's handwriting, the foreign scroll from the telegraph office was disappointing but his soft baritone still murmured in her ears. A flash of lightning lit up the room as she began to read:
Dear Jo,
Last few weeks have been rough.
Seems like I have been away too long.
Had to stop in Grand Turk for a time.
Now we will be in Jamaica for much longer.
Ship needs repair after hitting rocks in the strait.
Crew is glad to be on dry land.
Hopefully weather holds.
Might be home at the start of November.
I miss you.
Been watching the stars every night.
Hope you have too.
Some day we can watch them over the ocean - together.
Tell Rob I have a surprise for him.
I miss you.
All my love,
Nick
Jo sighed at the sad tone of the note. She missed him too – so desperately. She thought that with time, it would get easier but with each passing day, it seemed harder to come down to breakfast without him, the evenings so empty without their usual conversation. She only hoped that Nick's prediction would be correct. The beginning of November couldn't come fast enough.
Jo gazed at the rain drops somersaulting down the window glass, another crash of thunder vibrating through the house. Normally, there was some sort of solace she found in storms; the rain and wind almost a vessel for the calm to come. I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship… Amy's words flooded Jo's mind and she smiled at the thought. This storm would carry her into another day, another one closer to Nick's return. The room suddenly illuminated with a burst of lightning. Jo was just glad that Nick was an expert at sailing.
XXXXX
Nick had never seen the sky so black, any light from the moon deeply buried under thick grey clouds. The rain had started slowly enough, the soft mist a blessing after the southern heat but it soon intensified, sending down sheets with the steadily increasing winds. They had spent the last couple of hours waiting out the storm, Nick trying to convince the Captain of a new route, but the chance to avoid ruin had passed them by.
"We're headin' right into it!" Nick yelled at Captain Wallace, the roar of the ocean deafening as they made their way across the top deck.
"We'll be fine!" Wallace bellowed back, the rain striking against Nick's face, leaving the sting behind. He knew Wallace was wrong - this wasn't the type of storm that would leave them unscathed. He looked up at the turning clouds, a telltale circle forming above them. The waves were already crashing over the rails, pouring over onto the deck and Nick steadied himself as the ship heaved to the side. Once balanced, he tore after Wallace, the Captain making his way towards the helm where Conners was desperately trying to gain control. "She's goin' broadside!" Conners shouted, straining with a dwindling strength.
Wallace grabbed the wheel, throwing his weight into the handles and pulled along as the ship struggled to respond. The walls of water continued to tower over them, and Nick scoured the crew, trying to account for the men who were frantically securing the rig. He noticed O'Neill and McKenzie on the port side, bringing in the mainsail and he dashed over to help.
"Where's Brady?" he hollered, grabbing onto the rope as the thick battens came tumbling down from above.
"I dinna ken…" McKenzie cried, trying to tie off the sail. "I think he's still below!
A massive wave pounded the hull and the Athena heeled starboard, sending all three men into the side rail. The waters poured out over them and Nick heard the creak of the mainmast as the wood groaned against the pressure. He got to his feet, slipping and stumbling towards the hatch to the lower deck. He knew the cargo hold was practically empty after delivering most of what they had in Jamaica. He also knew that Brady was most likely down there, trying to fill in the bilge. But at that moment, the pumps would not be working properly – the one thing that wasn't fixed after the damage from the strait. The crew in Jamaica had warned Wallace but even with Nick voicing concerns, the Captain seemed undaunted. Nick clamored down the steps, racing to the lowest level, trying to keep from being hurled against the walls.
As he rounded the last flight of stairs, he ran headfirst into Brady, who was thrown off balance by another heave of the ship. Grabbing onto his shirt, Nick hauled him to his feet. "What are ya doin' down here?"
"The bilge pumps are stuck…" Brady yelled over the roaring waves against the hull. Nick forced him back up the stairs.
"I coulda told you that!" Nick snapped, falling against the walls, trying to ignore the pain shooting through his shoulder. With the pumps not operating and the light ballast, the ship was just like a kite, at the mercy of the wind – the crew along with it. "You're gonna get yourself killed down here!"
As the two men clamored up the stairs, Nick could feel the ship ascending another large wave. Expecting the painful dropout, he fell to the floor, pulling Brady down with him. The impact was intense, the wood of the hull giving way and water began to make its way through cracks in the side. Nick stood quickly, taking the lead, and grabbed onto Brady's coat, tugging him towards the upper levels. As they neared the main deck, Brady wriggled out of Nick's grasp and ran towards the berth. Nick whirled around to watch the man frantically run towards the crew quarters. "What do ya think you're doin'?" Nick yelled; his voice carried away with the toss of the ship.
"I'll be right back!" Brady screamed over his shoulder. Nick contemplated going after him, but another wave hit, pitching everything port side and he was thrown into a wall. Brady was long gone, and Nick thought better of chasing him. There was no way he was going to get trapped below deck when things started breaking up.
Nick drove his way to the top, the winds and rain blinding him. He could hear the cries of the Captain, still at the helm, trying in vain to steer. The main deck was almost empty and as Nick carefully peered over the side, he could see several of the men had taken their chances with the ocean. Better that than getting trapped in a sinking coffin. He turned back towards the Captain, spotting McKenzie starboard, still struggling with the masts.
"It's no use!" Nick cried to his friend, darting across the deck. "She's a goner!"
McKenzie finished tying off the mainsail as the boat lurched portside with a grave force, Nick grabbing for the rigging to keep himself from flying off the edge. The boat righted and Nick's mind went to the dozen men he had just seen in the waters. He refused to check on them, not wanting to know the carnage but continued towards McKenzie who had saved himself by clinging to the mast.
"Did ye find Brady?" he bellowed against the winds.
Nick shook his head in disgust. "He's gonna get himself killed - he's down there, lookin' for somethin'." He glanced around noting the swirling sky that had switched course. "We gotta get outta here," he said, heading towards the stern. A lasting flash of lightning lit up the grey and Nick could see a tell-tale shadow against the horizon. The boat swayed back portside again and the wood from the foremast groaned against the effort.
"Where's O'Neill?" Nick yelled as McKenzie followed close behind. The slippery deck and tossing ship were making it near impossible for the two seasoned sailors.
"Figured it was safer in the waters," McKenzie hollered back as they reached the side. "We're close ta somethin'..."
Just then, Brady emerged from the deck hatch, looking completely drenched despite being below deck. He caught sight of his shipmates and made a beeline for the two men. "We're takin' on water!" he yelled, stuffing things into his pockets. There was no telling what had been so important.
Taking a quick look over the side, Nick decided the time was now – they couldn't wait any longer. Suddenly, the previously secured mizzen sail began to give way and out of the corner of his eye, Nick could see the heavy canvas come tumbling down towards them. Leaping out of the way, Nick pushed McKenzie against the side rail while the sail landed squarely on top of Brady. After a moment of shock, the two free men scrambled to clear away the material as it smothered their shipmate. Digging through a tangle of rope and cloth, they managed to pull an unconscious man from the trap.
"How are we gonna get 'im outta here?" McKenzie bellowed, his hand smacking against Brady's face trying to revive him.
Nick gazed towards the dark open waters, only one option coming to mind. "One of us gotta jump first," he explained, leaning down to pick up the dead weight. He looked at McKenzie, the intent clear. However, the Scot had other ideas and grabbed onto Brady, pulling him from Nick's grasp.
"You jump first," he yelled, bending under the weight. "Your shoulder can't lift 'im." Seeing Nick's doubt, he shrugged. "'Sides, my aim is better than yours."
Nick shook his head, knowing full well what McKenzie was trying to do. Chances were that after he jumped, there would be no time for anyone else to clear the sides, the ship quickly taking on water. He looked over at the helm to find it empty - not sure if the last wave had swept the Captain and the remaining crew overboard.
"I got 'im," Nick insisted, attempting to retrieve the rousing man.
McKenzie's gaze became intense, his grasp on Brady strengthening. He looked Nick right in the eye. "Yer jumpin'," he growled, "Now!"
Nick was tempted to use his rank as leverage, but McKenzie was already hoisting Brady towards the rail. Climbing over the side, Nick stretched himself down towards the black raging waters, the distance below seeming infinite. With a deep breath, his hold gave way and Nick fell, his breath lost as he hit the cold abyss. Suddenly, everything was quiet, seeing into nothingness. He felt weightless, almost peaceful as the roar of the storm thundered somewhere above him. But the burn in his lungs drove him to surface and Nick inhaled gulps of air as he tried to gain his bearings. The Athena was to his right and he could just make out two figures against the side. Brady looked somewhat aware, albeit confused, as McKenzie pushed him off the ship. Nick swam to where the man had smashed into the waters, finding him much more alert, the cold and impact a slap to consciousness.
"Swim!" Nick yelled in his face, pushing Brady towards what he hoped to be rescue. Looking upward, McKenzie still hung precariously along the rail, trying to time his jump with the quickly fragmenting ship. As the Athena bowed right, he let go, slamming awkwardly against the hull before landing in the waters.
Nick raced through the churning sea; each swell seemed to pull him backwards. He could see McKenzie floating, rising with the surges and after what seemed like an eternity, finally reached his friend. Flipping him over, Nick had no time to check for breath. He slung his arm underneath McKenzie's shoulders and began swimming on his back, away from the undertow of a sinking ship, all the while frantically trying to keep their heads above the waves. The winds howled around them, debris floating dangerously in the way. Nick could hear the noise above the storm – a deafening crack of wood and metal splitting. At first, he felt very little pain and then… nothing.