I'm sorry my chapters are so short, I just have to get it out there once I complete a train of thought. The next one should be much longer…
Chapter 3: The Hurricane
The storm descended swiftly. The waves roared and crashed against the beaches and rocks. The wind blew over trees and homes as if they were made of paper. The people of the small village near our home were so frightened that they risked angering the goddess and sought refuge with us in the cave. The worst of the storm wreaked its havoc on Gozo for a solid week, during which none of us left the inner caves. One day, we heard the wind slow, heard the crash of the ocean cease. The water that had risen in my bower receded and the steps were visible again. We ventured outside to see the damage. Trees were down all along the edge of the valley. Driftwood and bits of ships littered the beach. The people of the village went to see what was left of their homes. Mother wandered through the felled trees and plants looking for food. Robert and I began picking through the debris on the beach.
A few hours later we had found a new table, some sails which we could salvage for cloth, slats for new beds and enough firewood to last a month. Robert was helping my mother bring in what little edible fruits and vegetables she had found. I was watching the sky, feeling somehow that the storm had more still to give us. For the better part of an hour I stood there on the debris covered beach, just watching the sky and the sea. The sun began to set. As it drew closer to the horizon the sun cast a red hue over the sea, illuminating the surface of the water. That is when I saw it. Floating not far off the shore was what appeared to be the front half of a lifeboat. I squinted my eyes, trying to see it more clearly through the sunlight. There was an arm hanging over the side of the boat.
"Robert! Robert, come quick!" He dashed out of the cave as I pulled off my heavy outer dress and shoes. "There is a man in that boat!" His eyes followed my outstretched arm and widened when they saw the vessel. He quickly tore off his own shoes and ran towards the surf. I followed. We swam.
The boat was actually much closer that I had realized; I still do not know why I could not see it sooner. We reached it where it was floating, perhaps fifty feet beyond the breakers. Robert positioned himself behind the boat where he could push it in. I grabbed onto the prow with one hand and began to swim.
"Cora, there are two men in this boat." I turned my head while my legs continued to churn.
"Two?"
"Yes, I think one of them is dead. The other I cannot tell." I closed my eyes for a moment, whispered a swift prayer and swam harder. Soon we reached the shore. We dragged the boat onto the beach as far as our exhausted bodies would allow us. Robert collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping for air in the sand. I dropped to my knees and leant on the boat. The men were dressed as British naval officers. Both wore navy coats and salt-soaked white wigs. The man whose arm I saw was laying facedown in the boat, his hat covering his head. The other was on his back, vacant eyes staring towards the heavens. His chest was covered in blood.
"Damn," I whispered and crossed myself. "Lord rest him. Robert, this one is definitely dead." My adopted brother got to his feet. "Help me with the other, perhaps he managed to survive."
Robert stood where the back side of the boat should have been. He reached under the man's arms, grasped him around the chest, and lifted the unconscious man to his knees. I stood quickly. I stepped over the prow and removed the man's hat, putting a hand to his face. It was warm. I pressed one hand to his chest and placed my ear against his mouth. I felt a heartbeat, heard him draw breath.
"He's alive, Robert! Quickly, we must get him to the cave."