Page 42 of Wild Tempest

"What was that?” Tempest asked.

We hustled out of the galley. With my rifle shouldered, I stepped into the corridor, my barrel sweeping across the hallway.

Tempest hovered close behind.

I climbed to the next deck. My flashlight cut the darkness as I cleared compartments, moving in the direction of the sound. I cleared all the crew compartments one by one, but I didn't find anything.

"I swear I heard something," Tempest said.

"You heard something. I heard it too."

We returned to the Level 02 staterooms, keeping alert. When I checked on Jack, he was gone.

27

“Jack!“ I shouted into the darkness.

There was no reply.

“He couldn’t have gone far,” Tempest said.

"Wait here.”

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm staying here all by myself.”

I shined my flashlight down the corridor. We circled around the level, creeping through the hallways, bouncing from bulkhead to bulkhead as the boat rolled.

The level had an O-shaped layout with the ladderwell central. A port, starboard, and rear hatch allowed access to the superstructure.

We checked the other staterooms but didn’t find him. I peered through the viewport of the aft hatch.

The storm raged.

Tempest followed me to the port side hatch. Through the viewport, I saw Jack’s head. I pulled open the watertight door. Jack stood there on the side deck, hanging onto the bulkhead, looking out over the tumultuous sea. The rain still pelted down, and 15-foot swells rocked the boat.

"What are you doing?" I asked, standing in the doorway.

"It got stuffy in there. I needed to get some fresh air.” He’d pulled the IV out of his arm.

"I think you need to get back in bed.”

"I think I'll make my own decisions about what's best for me," he snapped, glaring at me.

I raised my hands in surrender. "Just looking out for you, brother. You’re soaking wet."

Jack wasn't himself. I’d never seen him get testy like that. Not with me.

I backed off. "Let me know if you need anything.”

He stayed on the side deck, looking out over the storm.

Tempest and I let him be. In that short time, the front of my shirt had gotten soaked.

We returned to my stateroom.

"What's gotten into him?" she asked.

I shared a grave look with her. I didn't even want to say it.