Everything hurt. But nothing pained her so much as her head. Carefully, she reached up to touch the back of her head. She was relieved to find no blood; only a decent bump. Peeling her face off the floorboards, she sat up. Why was she on the floor? She had definitely been in her bed when she’d fallen asleep.

No. She remembered now. There had been a storm. The ship’s rocking had thrown her from the bed…and…she’d blacked out…hadn’t she? Unable to recall any more than that, the First Mate picked herself up, wandering unsteadily to the door. She expected that the rest of the crew would be topside, trying to keep things in order with the weather making such a mess.

Tugging the door open, she first saw the darkening sky. It wasn’t growing lighter at all. But…hadn’t the storm passed already? Her brown eyes were next met with the empty deck. Something was wrong. The crew should have been working…or at least milling about. Then, she spotted one man, alone on the salt-soaked deck.

“Hey!” she cried.