The Fisherman's Niece

Chapter 12

        A loud crashing rang through her ears, chasing the last bits of sleep from Meriel's brain. She felt as though she'd been out for a night of heavy drinking the way the world kept pitching to and fro. Her head felt heavy and it took all her strength to lift it from the pillow. Her vision was blurred and her mouth felt as though it was full of cotton. She tried to use her right hand to steady herself, but the pain was too great and she could see that it had been crudely bandaged. What in the world had she been up to?

       Then she remembered. Dylan! She sat up too quickly and was thrown forward onto the hard floor. Meriel rubbed her eyes and sat up, trying to get her bearings. That had been a mistake, and it was nothing short of a miracle that allowed her to catch herself before slamming back into the bunk she'd fallen from. It became clear that it wasn't her sense of balance that was in turmoil, but that the room itself was shifting violently from side to side.

       When she'd grasped the edge of the bunk and felt more firm, she looked around. The room was completely empty. Her makeshift bed had been no more than a metal slab suspended by a couple of sturdy lengths of chain and topped with a thin mattress. The room felt like a box, the only light filtered in through three circular windows about the size dinner plates.

       It still seemed dark outside and Meriel wondered how long she'd been out. Could she have slept until dusk, or perhaps the next day? Making her way on unsteady legs, she managed to half walk, half crawl to the nearest window to peer out. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a dull, gray darkness. A bolt of lightening lit up the sky and thunder was close on its heels. For a split second, the waves were in suspended animation, and she could see the jagged peaks arching furiously. It was as though she was looking at one of her grandfather's paintings.

       Grandfather!

       She glanced around again to make sure, but she was definitely alone. Even though she'd never been on one before, Meriel knew that she had to be on a ship. The question still remained, where was it headed? It was still so dark outside that the windows only offered her a view of storm and sea. There was no sign of shore looming in the distance, no other vessels nearby. The thunder rumbled and she could feel the walls vibrate. Wherever they were going, she had serious doubts that the boat would make it.

       Outside, the wind howled furiously. For a moment, another sound fell on her ears and then faded away again. It was as though the gale had carried it to her and taken it spiraling away again. She strained to see if she could catch it once more. Another strong gust brought the sound again. This time, she was sure that it had been a voice.

       The deep tenor was familiar, but distorted. It kept hitting peaks that were more befitting to a gull feasting at low tide than a human. She recognized that sound. It was pain. She rushed to the door behind her, fell and then crawled the rest of the way. She grabbed hold of the handle, but it wouldn't budge. Of course it was locked, and there was nothing in the room that she could use to force the door.

       The noise was louder from her new vantage point. She could tell now that it was the scream of a man in extreme agony. Meriel took small comfort in the fact that as long as she could hear it that her grandfather was alive, but it didn't sound like he would be for long if she couldn't find a way out. The only other thing in the room was the bunk. She went for it and grabbed hold of the chain before she could be flung into the wall. The mattress came off easily, but it was too light to be of any use. The bunk itself was solid. The chain was fastened to the wall and welded in place. She sat down on the hard bench and tried to think.

       There was only one thing left in the room that she could use...herself. Without wasting a second more, Meriel pushed off from the bed and made her way to the wall opposite the door. When she was locked on target, she ran as fast as she could towards it. The room tilted, stealing a bit of her momentum, but when it tipped back the other way, she used it to her advantage and let her body crash into the door at full speed. She turned at the last second so that her shoulder took the brunt of the impact. Her arm was throbbing, but she backed up, and using the rocking of the ship to her advantage, took another run at the door.