JULY 22

The ship passed through the Strait of Gibraltar, between Spain and Algeria.

Derrel tied down all the spare equipment in the engine room. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. The weather for the last few days had turned unusually rough. The waves had been so violent that no one could work on the deck.

JULY 24

The ship reached the Bay of Biscay in western France. The wild blew wildly and the rain fell down in sheets.

Stolen novel; please report.

Derrel walked downstairs to the work room, where Khyrel Ivanov was repairing pipes.

“Hey, Khyrel,” said Derrel.

“Yo man, wassup,” answered Khyrel.

Derrel frowned.

“Why are you talking like that?” asked Derrel.

“Dis how I always talk.”

“Jerome spoke like this the night he disappeared. Khyrel, you need to come with me to the first mate’s room. We can protect you there.”

“You trippin, Derrel.”

Khyrel clocked out and left the room.

Eight hours later, Kellan came to relieve Derrel and told him the bad news: Khyrel had disappeared too. The captain ordered everyone to work in pairs and on double watch, so no one had to work alone.

JULY 28

An unusually strong hurricane had formed over the sea over the last four days. The men worked day and night to keep the ship operational.