Grey Horizon

The Eye

The rough and cool surface of the top deck handrails catch under my fingertips as I walk quietly along their length. Sharp sea air fills my nostrils, smarting my senses and giving my arms goose bumps despite the rather large overcoat I wore. The sleek wood deck, shaded by a metal canopy and florescent lights, is barren of people.
I stop.
My eyes shift across the rails to the dark grey pillars of clouds shrouding the great cargo ship bound for the port city of Nukaro. Instinctively, I bend to the light pitch in the floor, mastering my sea legs had come much more natural than expected, but then again, many things came easier to me than to most.
A loud foghorn blares to my left but I barely flinch, having heard it a thousand times before. The beat of footfall echoes against metal as sailors pour from port doorways to batter down hatches, secure cargo lines and tighten wires holding canopies in place.
"You should get bellow deck, lad."
Grunts a greased man who shuffles past me with one of his crewmen, their hands full of ropes and chains. I watch as they shuffle down the sleeked deck toward a hull port door. Licking my lips I turn to face the oncoming storm. The small waves crashing against the ship's hull barely make a ripple in the metalwork, but I could tell that greater ones were to follow soon enough.
A rickety speaker fashioned to a cross pole near the end of the canopied deck crackles to life as the captain relays.
"Top secure. Batten doors and move below deck. Out."
At the last word, a rush of wind howls across the open dark sea. It rams into the side of the ship, crawling up its side to burst off the lip like a gush of rage through a hatch. The bellow screams in my face, spraying me with salt water and nearly taking my scrapped cap with it. Grasping the slick black rails, I gasp as memories surging through my fingertips, up my arms and into my eyes. Storms harsher than Poseidon himself and ports more stunning than I could even imagine seeping into my iris', turning their bland grey into a sharp shade of hazel and blue.
"Oi, you there!"
A rough hand grasps my shoulders and yanks me from the rails, turning me sharply from the sharp sight of the storm closing in. I blink away the spray of water from my eyes to gaze into the scraggly expression of Herbert, one of the engine crewmembers. His brown and yellow eyes glare at me as he shouts obscenities above the scream of wind and crash of waves.
"You bloody listening to me?!" He shakes my shoulder violently.
Breaking from his hold I push away and straighten my coat just as a loud moan fills the air and rattles the very boards beneath my feet. Looking sharply out across the rails, I watch in dumb awe as a crack of lightning brightens the sky to reveal the silhouette of a whale sailing in the sky.
"We need to go bellow before it hits – are you bloody listening . . . Amsterdam!"
At my name, I turn my gaze from the raging storm and the floating mammal to Herberts near pleading look.

He was right.

The storm was more violent than my body would ever lead me to believe.

"Alright, I'm coming."