A Fiction: Part XVIII

VI

In my dream, I am standing at the top of a large ice hill overlooking a field of snow. The snow is falling heavily, and I cannot make out the horizon. Above is cold steel grey cloud – no hint of sun, just even, grey light. I hear a small buzzing sound and search the sky. There’s nothing there, but I am sure I hear a small plane. I raise my arms to signal it – They are going to see me. I’m saved!! I squint my eyes and see a small black spot in the clouds. Yes!! It’s headed this way!! The spot grows larger and blacker but I still cannot make the shape of the craft. It nearly fills my vision now and I feel I am floating, my body sliding up towards my head. The buzz is getting louder and louder until it is a mind-shattering roar…

I wake to the roar of the ships engines in full throttle. My head presses uncomfortably into the headboard of my bed as I slide up with the acceleration. I roll towards the small port hole and wince as my sheet tears from a patch of hardened blood on my chest. I run my hand down, incredulous – have I been in a fight? Why am I bleeding? I look out at the water racing past my small, round window. Wherever we’re going, we’re sure in a hurry to get there. I hear heavy footfalls as someone runs past my door. Listening closely, I hear muffled shouting on deck. I roll out of bed and quickly dress, carrying my shirt with me to pull on as I make my way outside.

The cold air stabs my lungs and steals my breath as I step out onto deck and survey the chaos all around. Men are running and shouting in all directions. Some have made a line up the staircase to the control room. Above, a small group is pounding and banging on the outside of the control room presumably to gain access. To my right across the deck, Hendricks is up on a small platform, handing out orange life vests to all who will take one. He spots me and frantically waves me over. I push my way through the crew surrounding him, temporarily warmed by the close contact, and climb up to stand beside him.

“What’s going on? Are we sinking?” I ask. Hendricks is sweating with the work and takes a moment to catch his breath. I look over the rail behind him as something catches my eye. What is that? Are those whales? No, they’re oddly shaped, irregular. I am thrown back from the rail as ice showers over. The towering wall of the iceberg slides past having brushed the side of the ship. Hendricks kneels down and offers me a hand.

“The ship is out of control. Someone has locked himself in the control room and pushed us full out. This area is full of icebergs! Surely we’ll crash!!” Hendricks falls to the floor, his cool demeanor suddenly broken. His breathing is harsh and erratic. He is slipping into shock. I put my arm around him and help him to a seat on the edge of the deck. Overhead, a life boat swings across the deck and out over the open sea. It lowers quickly and crashes dangerously into the side of the boat, breaking away a section of the rail and side wall. Three crew men reach over to hold the boat in place, while two others climb in. I stand and rush over towards them, but too late – all five are inside and the boat is being lowered towards the racing sea below. I look behind to the lift controls and wave my arms to get the attention of the man running the panel - make him stop – but too late. I hear screaming as the hoist jerks wildly and the cables holding the boat snap up into the air. I fall flat on the deck as one flicks down across an unsuspecting crewman racing across. It hits directly between his shoulder and neck, embedding itself 6 inches down through his chest. He is knocked to his knees and falls forward, dead before his face touches wood.

I pull myself carefully to my knees and am about to stand when, with a scream of splintering wood and twisting metal the ship comes to a lurching stop. I am thrown forward – sliding across the wet, ice covered deck – with the rest of the debris strewn about. There is yelling from above as the crew’s fears are realized: we have crashed.