The Traitor's Stain (wattys 2019)

Chapter Seventeen: Long Island Sound

Ophelia and Anna didn't speak as they left the shore behind; Ophelia hardly even dared to breathe. The only sound was that of the oars creaking, the groaning like thunder roaring across the water. The moon shown down through the fog, Turing the air around them white. She could barely see the shoreline from there: the land around them was just a mass of dark, half-formed outlines against the horizon. Unrecognizable. It was as if they'd entered another world when they rowed out into the fog.

At the center of that world was a giant monster. The HMS Harbringer was the ship currently anchored close to Setauket, the one the troops would be moving out in if they failed their mission, that night. She was huge, with ports for cannons on both sides and a mast that reached up to the sky like a finger trying to touch God. She began to hear the groans of the ship as they got closer. Great, heavy sighs that echoed the tides that churned beneath them.

Anna stopped rowing, and Ophelia followed suit.

"I hope this works," Anna muttered as she unteathered Mark II from the boat.

She knocked three times on the top of Mark II once she was done.

The engine of the machine made the water hum and churn. The submarine drove off in the water towards its fate.

"It's all up to Caleb and Jacob, now," Ophelia said.

"God help us," Anna said solemnly.

***

"I don't feel so good."

Caleb sighed. "What do you mean, you aren't feeling well? Are you nervous?"

"... no," Jacob said. "Not nervous: sick."

Of course, he was. What else would he be in that moment?

"Can we go up to the surface?" Jacob asked. "I think... I think I might just..." he began to make some odd gurgling noises. "Oh, God!"

Caleb didn't respond for a moment: instead, he focused on what he was seeing outside his window. The hull of the HMS Harbringer was in view, its shape even darker than the water around them. He was starting to be able to see the barnacles that clung to the wood bottom, they were so close.

"Jacob, you're just going to have to hold it in," Caleb said as they made their final approach. "You under enough control of your fluids to be able to get that barrel attached to the hull?"

Jacob didn't respond for a second, which only served to make Caleb nervous. God, tell me that his dinner's still in his stomach!

"I... yeah," Jacob finally managed. "I-I think I'll be okay."

"That's good, because it's showtime," Caleb said as he let go of his controls. "Don't mess up."

Jacob took control of the Turtle. Mach II. Tortoise. Whatever they were calling it. The arms whirred to life as he moved them, and Caleb could see them reaching out to the hull like ghostly fingers.

A low hum began to echo through the water as the screw went into the ship.

"Ready with the watch?" Jacob asked.

Caleb looked at the pocket watch that dangled in front of his face. It was just past 10:08: he would give the signal to detonate once it was 10:09.

"Detonate the charges on my mark," Caleb said as he watched the seconds tick by.

He heard Jacob adjust his seat above him, ready.