Monthly Archives: September 2012
Swim we did, through rolling seas until we finally reached the unwillingly abandoned ship. One by one we climbed aboard and fell, exhausted, to the deck. I wanted to remain, to rest as the adrenaline seeped from my body, but Gavin urged me forward. He led me below deck to a hold full of crates and barrels. I recognized the containers as the same kind we’d found inside the castle.
“Food!” I cried as I rushed toward the nearest crate.
Gavin joined me with a tool much like the one Taya had found before.
“Step back,” Gavin directed as he wedged the metal bar under the wooden slats which formed the lid.
I complied, wringing my hands in anticipation. Continue reading
The Silent Army is the fast paced and fascinating second novel in James Knapp’s Revivor series. The story is told from the point of view of the same four main characters introduced in State of Decay. In book two, their … Continue reading
The ship continued to roll with the heaving waves, but the rain began to slack off, as least enough to be able to see. Gavin pushed from below as I pulled with all my strength. One by one we drew the twelve other prisoners onto the saturated boards of the deck until only Gavin was left below. As I looked down at him, panic began to rise in my chest. I hadn’t thought past getting the prisoners out. I could not reach him, and even if I had been able to reach, I could not lift him.
The ship lurched as the anchor released its grip on the ocean floor and wind caught the sails. A few soft moans echoed in the shadows of my new prison, where I’d spent a full day and night since my capture. My stomach moved with the ship as my last thread of hope seemed to fade away with any signs of that familiar shore.
I placed my forehead on my knees and squeezed my eyes closed to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. The clank of a chain preceded a tentative touch on my shoulder. Continue reading
I spun on my heels and gaped at the imposing form of a large man looming above me. My eyes began to water from the strong mix of foul odors seeping from his skin. Before I could scramble away, a meaty hand reached out and caught a handful of my hair. With a sharp tug, he pulled me to my feet and breathed his sour breath into my face.
“Looks like it’s my lucky night.”
His free hand began to work its way under the hem of my clinging shirt. I struggled but was no match for the sailor’s grip.