Kraken, Rookie Burwick [most motivational books txt] 📗

but his aching body seemed to be taking it's time.

The horrible noise continued endlessly now, making him want to cover his ears with his hands, and maybe even fall to the floor to keep the sound out, but he couldn't. No matter how loud it got, he assured himself he wasn't going to let go of the slick wall. He stumbled forward again, nearly falling face-first into the stained carpet below his feet, but he managed to catch himself. He waddled around into the next hallway, and stumbled down it quickly. At last, at the end of it, he saw the stairway. It was just about fourteen steps away. He took another step. . . and heard a loud creeeaak. . .

His foot quickly jerked back, and he paused for a long moment. After looking over the floor again, he took a long step over the area, and tried once again to walk across. And, just like before, the loud creaking noise sounded off. He didn't jerk back this time. He couldn't wait much longer. He took another step, and then another, and kept on going. He turned and hurried down the steps, letting out a brief, relieved sigh. His feet landed down gently on every step, each time making the noise repeat itself. The stairway took a dull turn, and he followed it at a quick pace, trudging down the stairs like his body was in perfect health. He couldn't fully run, partly because he was going down stairs, and partly because his leg wounds would only allow him to limp at a good and needed speed.

At last, he reached the bottom of the stairs, and stepped onto the second floor. There were no windows anywhere near-by, so the area was very dark, but he could still make out everything along the walls, which is what he needed. He scanned them for the map, a vision of it from a distance re-playing in his mind. It was looked like a blue-print of the ship, but it wasn't that at all. It was just a map in case of emergency, or for one's interest. He didn't see it anywhere that he looked, yet. He began slowly walking along the wall, hoping it was the right one. He followed the metal siding as he walked along it, watching close for the map. He turned and looked up ahead, but, even in the dark setting, he didn't see it up ahead. His hopes began to drop.

He limped further and further down, not seeing even a sign of the map. The slither of a smile that lingered  on his face vanished as he neared the end of the wall. Was he on the right floor? Was he looking on the right wall? One of those two questions had a negative answer, and he was determined to find out which one it was. He turned and continued on, following the parallel wall, still searching longingly for sight of the map. Without it, he was as good as lost, or maybe even dead. Either one wasn't good. With his hopes dropping more and more, he pushed on, trying his best not to give up. But then, he caught sight of it.

It was on the opposite wall across the room. The smile returned to his face as he made a B-line for it, limping across the creaking floor. He stopped for a moment and listened. The ship had stopped sinking for the time being, which came to his advantage. He didn't waste any more of his precious time. He scurried across the floor, feeling as if he wasn't going nearly as fast as he could. But he made it, and the map came closer and closer, and into better view with every pounding step his foot took toward it. And at last, all his hopes skyrocketed higher than a water fountain. He placed his hands against the wall, just inches away from the border of the thin, blue paper. He stared at it for a moment, and memorized it. He figured out what floor he was on, and then went from there.

He was only two floors down from the main deck, where he'd try and signal help, or somehow escape into the water below. As his eyes scanned back and forth over the glorious piece of paper, the terrible noises started up again. The ship was moving, and moving faster than it had ever done since the night it hit. He quickly finished memorizing the map, and then got moving.

It was very simple to follow; he had to simply go up two floors, and he would arrive on the main deck, and, as he had imagined so many times before in the last couple days, he would signal for help. . . somehow. He hurried back up the staircase, limping faster than he ever imagined he could, gripping the railing and following it with his hand as he went up towards the next floor. But then, the ship turned just a little, and threw him against the wall on the opposite side of the railing. He heard a faint crunch, and then paint shot all through his shoulder muscles. He gritted his teeth tightly for a moment, then forced himself to move on. He limped up the steps a little slower now, but still, he kept up a good pace.

He reached the floor where he'd come from, then hurried across a short amount of tiled floor to the stairway that lead upwards. He climbed intensely, his heart racing like a pack of jack-rabbits, and his lungs beginning non-stop for air. But he ignored these facts, and hurried on, up towards the next floor. The ship was moving so fast now, he wondered if he'd make it in time. He wondered if he would vanish beneath the surface, along with the massive cargo ship that contained him. He spun around the corner and hurried up the next fleet of stairs, his feet pounding down hard on the metal steps like they never had before. At last, he reached the next floor, and limped over to the last staircase that lead up to the main deck. He flew up them as fast as he could, but his legs were too close to giving out. He slowed a little, but not much. He couldn't waste any more time, or he'd be dead. He stormed towards the door, and opened it. Then, he stepped onto the deck.

Sunlight poured down on him like water from a showerhead, but it surprisingly felt good. He slowed to a stop near the railing, and laughed in spite of himself. He had made it. He was alive. The feeling didn't last long, though. The ship slid down even further, and the surface of the water was rising fast on its sides. Jasper fell on his back, and moaned in pain and agony. He slowed his breathing, and tried not to feel the pain, but he couldn't fight it. The pain flooded his muscles and bones, along with the painful pressure from his last blow to the shoulder. It was all too much, but, luckily for him, it didn't last long. It soon faded away within a minute or less, and then he carefully sat up. It was hardly two seconds after that when the ship rumbled down again, and sent Jasper rolling down the wood of the deck and against the metal railing that stood between him and a long fall. He slid back and away from the railing, but the movement of the massive ship that followed sent him right back to it.

He peered over the railing and down along the ship's hull. The water was only eleven inches from overflowing onto the deck, and was rising quickly, too quickly. He quickly crawled back, away from the frightening sight, but then, the unthinkable happened. The ship suddenly started falling the opposite direction, toward the water. He quickly started sliding towards the open, un-guarded side. He spun around and flopped on his stomach. He grabbed hold of a thin crack that lay in between two rotting boards, and hung on with all his might. He didn't dare move, or even breath. He just listened as the creaking noises the ship made slowly died off, and then momentarily returned. The ship went plunging again towards the water on the opposite side of the rocks. The whole thing came un-stuck from the shards of rocks, and was on a well-paced course for the water. He quickly climbed up towards the railing, and, grabbing ahold of it, swung himself over the edge, and fell towards the now cleared water as the ship itself descended the opposite direction. He landed with a large splash, and quickly shot back up above the surface. He watched as the ship disappeared into the inky depths.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE

 Jasper blinked a few times to try and at least begin to figure out what had truly just happened. The sight had been so exciting, while also being frightening and heart-stopping all rolled into one giant mess of emotions. The water that had held the ship above its surface was now dispersing rings of water from down below having swallowed the mighty vessel, which was hard to believe. Especially for Jasper.

He shook his head wildly and took a few breaths, but he still couldn't believe the ship had done such a thing, even though no one was really controlling it and the law of gravity was obviously at work, it still seemed odd. He had spent two days and nights there, shivering in that dark and lonely room. It was an empty room too. But all through it, he was almost saddened to see it go. It's now deceased crew had been kind and generous to him, and its captain, Fred Lanch, had been reasonable enough to bring him along. He had met so many new people on that ship, and was having a good time up until the night of the storm. And now it was gone. The whole ship was piercing through the water below, and was headed for the dark fathoms that made up the ocean floor. The wild waves that echoed along the surface tossed and turned him from side to side and back and forth, making him slightly nauseous.

But then, through all of his thoughts, he blinked, and then looked around him. All he saw was water. Nothing but it. He was stranded. Adrift. Lost at sea. In open water. He swallowed hard, and felt a ping of fear bite back at him. There was no sight of land, or a ship or a boat . . . or anything. He was all alone, and was un-doubtfully being watched by sharks. It was only a matter of time before they found him. The thought sent a long and extra cold chill down his spine. He needed to get above the water, or at least to a safer place . . . then a thought hit him. The ship's life raft. He spun around, sending off a small and weak wave of water as he did, and searched for anything that might have been left behind by the sunken cargo ship. But he didn't see anything. He let out a