A/N- this was the hardest chapter to write so far, I've been working on it for a really long time. Sorry if it's a little…choppy in some parts, I got stuck a lot. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it! And, we all know what Danny was doing at this time, so I didn't bother to write about it. Cameo by Evelyn in this chapter!
Navy Girl
Chapter Nine
There was a frantic pounding at the door. "Miranda, wake up, wake up!" Steve was yelling. His words were drowned out by the ship's intercom.
"All men man your battle stations! This is NO SHIT! They just bombed the Arizona! This is NOT A DRILL!"
Miranda hopped out of bed and crashed out the door, almost knocking Steve off his feet. Planes buzzed overhead as sailors spilled out of the barracks in their underclothes. Miranda knew she looked ridiculous in her tight silk nightgown, slinging strings of ammo over her shoulder, but she couldn't think of her appearance now. She handed a string to Lenny, who popped it into the 50 cal and began firing into the air, hitting nothing. "Get more, get more!" he yelled frantically as the first string of bullets fell into the ocean. Miranda draped the ones she had over Lenny's shoulder and ran to get more. But when she came back, all she found was a bloody mess.
"Oh, Lenny," she began to say, but a bullet whizzed past her ear. She dived behind one of the buildings as men with machine guns ran past her, Steve with them.
"Miranda, you know how to shoot, right?" He called, pausing.
"Yeah," she answered. Steve tossed her a gun. "It's loaded!" he shouted, running onto the deck. Miranda followed him, not being able to run in her stupid slip. She started firing up into the air, aiming for the paths of the planes that were shooting at them.
"Who are they?" Miranda shouted.
"Haven't you been paying attention?" Steve said, almost clipping one of the plane's wings. "Those are Jap planes!"
Just then, a strange, ominous whizzing sound filled the air. Miranda slowly looked upwards, the gun lifeless in her hands. A plane flying overhead dropped a bomb. In what seemed like slow motion, it arched in the air and fell, slowly, the sound growing louder and louder, towards the middle of the ship.
It crashed through the deck a mere ten feet from where Miranda stood. She began running as far away from it as she could. She was knocked off her feet when it exploded, sending a ball of fire high into the air. She slid across the deck, shielding her head from the sudden rain of debris, and scrambled to her feet, grabbing the gun. Her pink nightgown had turned black, the lace trimming a dull gray. Her hair fell in knots around her face as she threw her head back and began firing up into the air. Bullets and debris rained down around her.
"Watch out, Miranda!" someone called as a plane made a beeline for the ship. It crashed into one of the towers and fell onto the deck. Miranda looked up to see who had warned her.
"Dorey!" she cried. He was standing at one of the 50 caliber guns, looking shocked at what he had just done. "Dorey, you just shot down a plane!" her voice squeaked. Dorey smiled in a kind of preoccupied kind of way as he turned back to his gun and reloaded it. Miranda bounced the machine gun in her hands and tilted it up, trying to aim for the airborne planes.
She was knocked off her feet again when a torpedo ripped apart one side of the ship. Miranda fell on her bottom and slid down as the ship began to tilt. The gun snagged on something and was torn out of her hands. Nameless, familiar faces grabbed the ship's railing below her. Miranda followed suit, gripping the metal with both hands and holding on for dear life. One of the men next to her let go and fell into the water with a sickening splat. Another one started screaming hysterically, "I can't swim!" Miranda's gut tightened into a knot as the man's fingers slipped one by one and he plummeted down. She screwed her eyes shut and tried not to listen to the splash he made when he hit the water.
The ship was tilting even farther over; it was at a 90-degree angle with the sea. It was getting harder to hold on. The wet rails began to slip gradually under Miranda's sweaty palms. She saw a bullet explode in one man's gut, covering her with blood. She winced as he fell lifeless into the sea.
She realized that his fall was short. The ship was almost all the way over! Her mind moved faster than the speed of light but all Miranda came up with was, screw them pilots.
Miranda mentally punched herself, as she looked frantically over her arm. The harbors surface was a good thirty feet away, but she knew she could make it. The trouble was willing her fingers to let go.
She closed her eyes and slackened her grip, making one last grab at the rails as she fell. The water stung her bare skin as she stretched out of her cannonball position. She panicked for a moment, making clawing movements with her arms. As she swam through the darkness and towards the light, a fire-hot pain ripped through her upper arm. Blood blossomed into the icy water, forming a film on the surface as she gasped air into her lungs, clutching at the wound.
Danny's face flashed across her mind as she sunk back into the water. Miranda forced herself to let go of the wound and swim one-handed back up. She had to make it. She had to make it for Danny.
A man trying to float next to her took a bullet in the neck. A loud scream pierced the air for a moment, and then a split-second later he was gone. Miranda could see his ghostly white face sinking slowly, reluctantly, illuminated by the few faint rays of sun that had pierced the ash cloud that had risen above the harbor.
The water at her feet stirred a bit, and she looked down curiously. A white shape slid like a snake- TOWARDS THE ARIZONA.
"No!" Miranda tried to yell as the ship exploded into a spectacular ball of fire. Debris shot their way, and a hunk of metal ripped some flesh off Miranda's leg. She screamed as the pain spread through her body, numbing her senses for a moment. Her eyes wobbled in and out of focus and she felt dizzy. She clutched a piece of railing, floating on the surface of the water, and succumbed to the darkness.
***
When Miranda came to, she was laying in a boat. Well, her head was lying in the boat; her legs were still in the water. She struggled up but found she hadn't the strength to lift her own weight, and she slipped into the water. A strong, black hand reached out and took hold of her limp arm. She looked up and saw Dorey Miller standing in the boat. Miranda tried to smile but she couldn't. Dorey pulled her into the boat, and she slumped down on a bench. A couple other sailors were in the boat, rowing slowly. Dorey reached down into the water and pulled up what looked like a big, soaked blanket. He held it to his heart for a moment, and then handed it to Miranda. It fell into her lap and folded around her legs, clinging to her skin. Water dripped off it and pooled at her feet. It was the flag of the Arizona. Miranda remembered the explosion, remembered shot, she remembered trying to hold on to a piece of railing, but there was nothing after that.
Miranda saw that Dorey was rowing around in a zigzagged line towards the dock, picking up sailors along the way. "Dorey," Miranda whispered hoarsely, looking at her surroundings, "do you have any bandages?"
Dorey looked and saw the bullet in her arm and shards of metal in her leg. His eyes rounded out. "Miranda, you need help," he said, picking up his paddle and using all his strength to row to the dock. A few sailors, still in their white uniforms, were walking along the deck. "Take her to the hospital!" Dorey ordered, picking Miranda up and handing her to one of them. Then he rowed away, continuing his rescue mission.
Mud from Miranda's limbs ran down the sailor's crisp white uniform. Dazedly she noticed another wound she had not seen before- a gash on the side of her stomach. A piece of debris must have ripped through her nightie and cut the skin. She became aware that the sailor was running. The white hospital bobbed up and down in the distance, becoming larger and larger. Even from that far away, Miranda could hear screams.
The sailor laid her down on something hard. It felt like a tabletop, or something hard and smooth. Miranda's mind began to fade again, and the last thing she was aware of was a white face framed by brown hair, bobbing above her and talking frantically to a doctor that stood beside her. She placed a hand on Miranda's cheek, saying, "you're going to be all right."