FlOoD--Part Twenty-Four

The End of All Things

TwEnTy-FoUr

 

   After he'd dropped the plant in the bottom of the boat, Wilkerson reached back for the trunk but his hands encountered only empty space. He turned and found nothing there. He caught sight of the trunk some distance off, to his right. It was moving more swiftly than the boat, as though it had become caught in a swifter current. It was becoming more difficult to see so he glanced towards the moon. It appeared hazy for a moment and then began to darken and brighten alternately as clouds drifted across its face. Wilkerson didn't quite look forward to continuing his aquatic journey in the dark or in unpleasant weather or both. When his gaze returned to the trunk, he discovered it now apparently caught in a small whirlpool. It was spinning in  uneven circles, bobbing up and down. The motion held his attention, like a snake weaving as it rose in a basket. Suddenly, the trunk disappeared under the water as though clutched by a giant hand. Wilkerson drew back, eyes wide and mouth agape. He slowly turned his head to the left and found Brown staring towards the same phenomenon that he had just witnessed. Brown slowly turned to him.

   "Did you just - "

   "How did that - "

   Before either man could complete his query, a sound resembling a giant explosion, although muffled by occurring underwater, assailed their ears. The two men, now joined by Smith and Murphy, turned towards the spot where the trunk had recently vanished. Peterson's gaze, which was fixed forward in an intense search for the causes of their increasing speed, involuntarily roamed towards his left and the strange sound. It sporadically flickered back to beyond the front of the craft, but it was inexorably drawn to the spot where the water was beginning to bubble and froth. The area where the trunk had been swallowed was slowly passing, although, to be exact, the boat was slowly passing the area, and Johnson had joined the other five in paying it a visual tribute. He had progressed to a marching tune on the anvil, in keeping with the increased velocity of the vessel.

   And now, with six pairs of eyes (we can account for the other two by mentioning that Davis was still asleep and Jones was still immobile, facing the opposite direction) as witnesses, something altogether remarkable occurred.

   By the time this phenomenon was over, the boat was careening through the water at a great speed in a darkness that was nearly complete. The moon had been layered by clouds to such a thickness that no further light illuminated the scene. Peterson, in searching for the moon, wondered if it had somehow been extinguished, never to be seen again by mortal eyes. Realizing that he might never know, he brought his attention back to the prow where he was kneeling with one hand gripping each side of the boat. He held himself erect, rather like a figurehead, as the boat lurched and plunged into the unknown. Smith had put his brick under his thighs to keep it safe through all the turmoil and was clutching the seat with one hand on either side. He had turned his head over his shoulder in his concern about the boat's ungainly progress, but after a few moments of staring into blackness, and an uncomfortable crick in his neck, he brought it forward and lowered it, feeling somehow safer in that position. Jones remained stationary throughout the headlong rush.