CHAPTER ONE


The boat plunged into the angry swells of the dark, furious sea like an awkward animal trying desperately to break out of an impenetrable swamp. The waves rose to goliathan heights, crashing into the hull with raw power. The torrents caught in the night sky cascaded downward over the deck under the force of the night wind. Everywhere there were the sounds of inanimate pain, wood straining against wood, ropes twisting, stretched to the breaking point. The animal was dying.

Two abrupt explosions pierced the sounds of the sea and the wind and the vessel’s pain. They came from the dimly lit cabin that rose and fell with each turbulent wave. A man lunged out of the door grasping the railing with one hand, holding his stomach with the other. A second man followed, the pursuit cautious, his intent violent. He stood bracing himself in the cabin door; he raised a gun and fired again. And again. The man at the railing whipped both his hands up to his head, arching backward under the impact of the fourth bullet. The trawler’s bow dipped suddenly into the valley of two giant waves, lifting the wounded man off his feet; he twisted to his left unable to take his hands away from his head. The boat surged upward, bow and midships more out of the water than in it, sweeping the figure in the doorway back into the cabin, a fifth gunshot fired wildly. The wounded man screamed, his hands now lashing out at anything he could grasp, his eyes blinded by blood and the unceasing spray of the sea. There was nothing he could grab, so he grabbed at nothing; his legs buckled as his body lurched forward. The boat rolled violently leeward and the man whose skull was ripped open plunged over the side into the madness of the darkness below

He felt rushing cold water envelop him, swallowing him, sucking him under, and twisting him in circles, then propelling him up to the surface--only to gasp a single breath of air. A gasp and he was under again. And there was heat, a strange moist heat at his temple that seared through the freezing water that kept swallowing him, a fire where no fire should burn. There was ice, too; an icelike throbbing in his stomach and his legs and his chest, oddly warmed by the cold sea around him. He felt these things, acknowledging his own panic as he felt them. He could see his own body turning and twisting, arms and feet working frantically against the pressures of the whirlpool. He could feel, think, see, perceive panic and struggle--yet strangely there was peace. It was the calm of the observer, the uninvolved observer, separated from the events, knowing of them but not essentially involved. Then another form of panic spread through him, surging through the heat and the ice and the uninvolved recognition. He could not submit to peace! Not yet! It would happen any second now; he was not sure what it was, but it would happen. He had to bethere! He kicked furiously, clawing at the heavy walls of water above, his chest burning. He broke surface, thrashing to stay on top of the black swells. Climb up! Climb up!

A monstrous rolling wave accommodated; he was on the crest, surrounded by pockets of foam and darkness. Nothing. Turn! Turn! It happened. The explosion was massive; he could hear it through the clashing waters and the wind, the sight and the sound somehow his doorway to peace. The sky lit up like a fiery diadem and within that crown of fire, objects of all shapes and sizes were blown through the light into the outer shadows. He had won. Whatever it was, he had won. Suddenly he was plummeting downward again, into an abyss again. He could feel the rushing waters crash over his shoulders, cooling the white-hot heat at his temple, warming the ice-cold incisions in his stomach and his legs and. ... His chest. His chest was in agony! He had been struck--the blow crushing, the impact sudden and intolerable. It happened again! Let me alone. Give me peace. And again! And he clawed again, and kicked again ... until he felt it. A thick, oily object that moved only with the movements of the sea. He could not tell what it was, but it was there and he could feel it, hold it. Hold it! It will ride you to peace. To the silence of darknesd and peace

(so that's it. this is a colab with fixgoo

CHAPTER TWO

The yellow rays of the early morning sun glistened through the dark, fat clouds like a silver lining beaming on the gleaming calm waters of the forcados. Those pregnant clouds were the only testament of the storm of yesterday. That and the experience of the fishing crew that was sailing smoothly on the trawler boat.

"I dey come, I dey read" replied a little boy in the basement as he was called by his brother, Marcus. Marcus detested Akpan for his laziness and unruly excuses. Where were those books when the boat almost capsized yesterday?.

At the wheel was his twin sister Onome, Marcus was very happy that the wheel was been controlled by family. Onome proved her commitment to the job yesterday night.

"Make i cum meet you there!" threatened Marcus. He didn't mind shouting at the top og his voice. This was the goose that laid the eggs for them and so all hands needed to be on deck.

The rest of the crew, an old man and his son were sitting on the deck eating and sharing jokes.

This part of the forcados was one of the few areas in the delta where fish could be caught and they were in abundance. The net dragged by the boat seemed to be getting heavier, they had made a big catch.

"Pull it in" commanded Marcus looking at the old man who began to crank sophisticated engine. The engine came to life and reeled in, lifting the net out of the water. Liquid dripped out from the net as it came overhead the deck. usually it was saline water or fish blood but this time the liquid was strangely thicker and had a red tint to it.

Akpan finally came out. he patrolled the deck like a supervisor before taking a look at the net. whatever he saw affected him to the psyche as he immediately became petrified.

"You don finally come out" bellowed Marcus before raising his hand to slap Akpan. normally Akpan would run to hide behind someone but this time, he didn't move grim thr spot. Marcus was bewildered. His gaze fell on the net. He pinched himself so he could escape if it was a nightmare, what he saw had shocked him to the bone.

Lot of views but i don't like this lack of poll.

following n seems twill b on point
so please no disappointment

u started on a bright note
gud job