Safe Harbor

| 10 |

I survey the room around me with curiosity. I'd checked on Keda about ten times in the last couple of hours, but she was still deep in the clutches of slumber. I could hardly blame her; she'd had her shoulder ripped into and a bullet extracted, all without the aid of numbing anesthesia.

But she was a survivor, there was no doubt about it. Others would have succumbed to the pain much more easily and quickly, but she refused to go down without a fight. I admired her strength, her fearlessness, and her unwavering resoluteness. She was right with her words to Damien only hours earlier: everything seemed to be alright, for the time being.

But what was next? I could barely even recall how many days had gone by, from the time I left Bournemouth. One? Two? It was all a large blur of events, one thing after another, one I could barely process. Was this how my life was going to be from now on? The mere thought of it scared me-- I didn't know if I could handle that.

Boredom was beginning to set in inside of me, and quickly; I needed something to do, or I was going to go mad. I took a glance at Keda once more, watching her still body inhale and exhale slowly, blissfully at peace. Quietly, I stood, and made my way across the room towards the desk I had stolen the chair I'd been sitting on earlier.

It was beautifully carved; the work of a master artisan, no doubt. It was oak wood, polished to perfection, with a number of drawers holding untold secrets. Absentmindedly, my hand found its way onto one of its handles, ready to open it, but I froze. This had been someone's desk, most likely... It would be an invasion of his or her privacy to just go ahead and open it; disrespectful and rude. I shouldn't open it.

But then again...

The person who'd once owned this ship had left it, abandoned. What was the harm in taking just one little peek? My fingers grip the smooth handle tightly, and my heartbeat begins to accelerate in my chest. I take a breath to stead my frayed nerves, and then pull it open quickly.

Disappointment washes over me immediately. I run my hands over the inner, smooth wood; there's nothing here. I check the other drawers only to meet the same thing, over and over. I guess no one ever got the chance to use it.

I step away from the desk and sidestep the shattered glass all over the floor, thanks to Marco. Sure enough, remnants of what looked to be a glass box lie on a stool nearby, an old lock still hanging precariously from it. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Why would someone lock up an emergency kit?

The whole room had a musty sort of air about it, like it hadn't seen a person in years. It was a bit saddening; all of this, used for nothing and no one. When was the last time this ship embraced the open seas? It almost seemed like never. If this room was the Captain's, it should be more habited, more decorated. I remember my one experience with a ship: my father's, when I had been much, much younger. It was her maiden voyage, but even then, it was full of life and festivity. Every inch of his room was covered, with maps, drawings, even pictures, so unlike this room. It was bare from the ceiling to the floor, lonely and set aside.

Thinking about Dad made my insides clench uncomfortably. He was probably aboard his own ship right now, out at war. I try to picture him, sailing along the same seas as we were now, but the thought is too strange; too foreign. I just hope he was doing alright, wherever he was.

"Agh....Dónde estoy?" A groggy, confused voice groans from behind me. Was that Spanish?

I turn around quickly, only to see Keda is sitting up in the bed, fully awake. She looks around the room, clearly stupefied, before shifting around a bit and brushing her arm against the headboard, causing her to wince uncomfortably. Then her eyes land on me, and for a moment they widen, as if shocked by my presence here, with her."Alex," she breathes, her voice hushed and full of wonder.