Friday, February 22, 2019

First sneak peek at 'Last of the Merfolk'!!


A brand new novel in the works folks, and here is a first little tease for it!


Last of the Merfolk

  The huge ship pitched slowly forward in the waves, the deck heaving backward again as it slid up the face of another wall of water. Torrential rains pounded the rusted metal, and winds whipped the top of the sea into a froth. This was not the sunny days on the Caribbean sea that Joseph had dreamed of when he had applied for this job. Today, the waters were dark and foreboding, the sky a layer of lead weighing down on him. Fortunately, he was not as ill from the rough seas as some of his crew mates. And the maritime vessel was a huge hulking boat, filled with shipping containers. It could handle much more than what the heavens were dolling out today.
  The ship was the MV Hatteras, a modern container ship flying the flag of the United States. She had three large engines, and was over 200 feet long. A crew of 33 was aboard, calling this ship home for the next two weeks. They were in the North Atlantic, inside the legendary Bermuda Triangle, a fact never lost in the minds of the men on board. Headed to Brazil with tons of cargo, she powered through the waves toward her destination. The weather had been quite pleasant when the ship had departed Miami, but had quickly turned only a day into the voyage. Despite dozens of trips through this area, Joseph was always conscious that they were here, in that place of mysterious occurrences, which haunted the minds of sailors and airmen alike. The Triangle. Sailing vessels and aircraft had vanished here time after time, never to be seen again, the sailors or airmen aboard missing for all eternity.
  Joseph braced himself against the railing outside the bridge of the ship, one hand holding the cold, wet steel. In the other, he held a cigarette, trying to conceal it in his hand to keep it lit even in the fury of the storm. The crew were no longer permitted to smoke inside any closed in area of the vessel, even though many knew that there were hiding spots deep in the ship where one could sneak it without being caught. Working primarily on the bridge monitoring the radar instruments, Joseph did not usually have any opportunity to take advantage of those places. He consoled himself with the idea of warmer temperatures and calmer waters in the days ahead, where if he had some personal time, he might even enjoy a little fishing off the stern. He had seen dolphins swimming alongside several times when the waters weren't so rough, easily keeping up with the hulking steel hull.
  It all seemed a far off dream in the torrential rains and wind, with immense waves crashing over the bow. His thoughts drifted as he took another haul off of his cigarette, pulling the smoke in deep. Only the dead below knew how this trip might end, he thought. The lost souls who had fallen victim to the triangle and its dark secrets. He shivered as lightning flashed through the lead grey clouds above, the thunder competing with the roar of the churning sea.
  The winds pulled at his Mustang survival suit. He was grateful to have it, as it was both rain gear and waterproof warmth. The red coveralls with their reflective stripes were something he reached for the moment he rose from his bunk, practically living in them if the trip was stormy. On sunny, calm days, the ship was like a floating beachfront, the crew adorned in light t-shirts in an effort to keep cool. But this was not one of those days.
   A rogue wave hit the side, and despite its immense bulk, the ship lurched suddenly to port. Joseph stumbled, returning his focus. He grabbed the railing, barely salvaging the last of his smoke, and burning himself in the process. He cursed under his breath. Taking one more drag from the cigarette, he flicked it away. All of his sinister thoughts of the Bermuda Triangle, and the longing for better weather would have to wait for now. He righted himself on the platform outside the wheelhouse, taking one last look off to the side at the dark waters flowing past the rusting steel of the hull.
  Something caught his eye in that moment, and he focused in on it. For a split second, he drew in a breath, almost clamoring for the door to the bridge. He had to bring the ship to a stop. There was someone overboard. He stopped, squinting in the rain, trying to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. There was what looked like a person in the sea below, alongside the ship. They were submerged, looking up at him with a curious expression, seemingly not concerned about their situation. As Joseph watched, wiping the dripping rain out of his face, the apparition below seemed to be swimming just below the surface of the waves. Swimming. No shirt, no clothing. And there seemed to be something with him, or it. Like the fins of a fish.
  What he was seeing just didn't make sense. He wrestled with believing what his vision was relaying to his brain. It wasn't possible. In that moment, a flood of legends and stories came into his mind, as he stared in disbelief into the roiling waters at the figure looking back at him. It was a man, and a fish. A man with fins. A merman. Was that the name for it? He closed his eyes, hoping he was having some sort of delusion, some sort of hallucination. Perhaps his thoughts about the triangle were making his mind play tricks on him.
  But when he reopened his eyes, the creature was still there, if only for a moment. It turned downward, its fins streaming out behind as it slid away into the depths of another wave, disappearing from view. Was it a fish of some kind? It was already gone. The only thing left in view was the whitecaps, and the dark sea waters. Joseph blinked, and did it a second time. Relief came to him, that all had suddenly returned to normal with his world. He suddenly felt the green of sea sickness come on very strong. A cold shiver ran through him as he straightened himself, looking away from the sea to the sky, as if searching for an explanation of what he had just witnessed. It did not come.
  Joseph reached for the steel handle of the door to the bridge with cold, shaking hands. He knew what he had seen. But it was not possible. It was a story told since men had started to sail, a story that had been made into folklore and film, like the great white whale that Ahab had pursued, like the tales of Atlantis. Like the stories of mermaids...

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