Novel & Cerita Katie Ghost Ship

"If we don't speak now, there won't be anyone left to hear us." THE SIEGE OF THE ICEBREAKER ​The ship suddenly shuddered as a massive explosion rocked the hull. On the external cameras, Leo saw the Trust’s "Ghost Ships", sleek, silent aircraft that looked like shards of black glass, landing on the ice shelf. Teams of "Iron Erasers" began to pour out, their weapons glowing with a terrifying, white-hot energy.

I can see the plan I drew on the map as clearly as if it were etched into my eyelids. Vector One: The Ghost Fleet. In my mind, I see the three speedboats cutting through the black water off Pantelleria. They are running dark. No lights. No transponders. Just the roar of engines and the spray of salt. They are the bait. I imagine the Corsican spotters on the ridge seeing the wake. I imagine the radio call. Target acquired. The shipment is unprotected. I smile in the darkness. They think they are hunting a fat, slow cargo ship. They don't know they are chasing smoke.

The waves moved in silver silence, the moonlight folding over the dark water. A single yacht floated near the horizon, anchored just beyond the coast, sleek, black, and unmarked, its lights dimmed to nothing but a faint, golden glow beneath the deck. It was a ship meant for ghosts, and tonight, two of them met on its deck. Deborah Valmere stood near the railing, her silk coat caught by the sea breeze, her reflection trembling in the water below. The wind carried the faint scent of salt and metal, and somewhere beneath it, the phantom trace of gunpowder from Geneva still clung to her memory.

The water is black because death paid a visit and so far, the water has lost the war in returning itself blue. I rub my arms as we walk the long deck between gargantuan ghost ships, searching for Nokita. "Over here," he yells after we've walked at least a mile, though that might be an exaggeration. We locate him or more accurately, he locates us from a mid-sized enclosed bay where he's working on what must be the smaller sub. He sticks his head forward and outside the glass dome. "She's almost ready." I peer at the dented chunk of metal that's seen better days and then into the black water surrounding it. "How close?"

And that pain, and her love, were stronger than anything else on that goddamn boat. Jeannine leapt at Papa Nightmare using her one good leg and drove the machete through his open mouth and out the back of his skull. The noise of battle ceased around them. The undead soldiers from long ago melted into the decking of the Sultana. The ship itself began to disintegrate as spectral planks gave way to rushing water. “Go!” screamed Curtis. The ghost ship rocked as its boilers exploded. With Papa Nightmare dead, there was nothing to hold the ghost ship together. Time was suddenly catching up with the old ship. The Sultana was reliving its death by fire from over a century ago.

My blood was still boiling when I ran into Kayla near the main entrance. “Shirley!” she squealed, practically bouncing on her toes. “Oh my god, have you heard? Sebastian Hale is here! The Sebastian Hale! Westfield’s captain, the one who destroyed us on Friday, is now at Hawthorne! This is insane. He’s so hot and talented and—” She stopped mid-sentence when she saw my face. “Wait… why do you look like your are angry? Don't tell me those hockey jerks taunted you again, tell me which person and I'll go over and give them a good beating.

“They used the Ghost Shipwrights.” Kaelen’s jaw tightened. “The Sea-Witches. I thought they were some myth, just to scare pups off the cliffs.” “They are real,” Vane confirmed, grim as stone. “A banished coven of elemental witches living on the Drowned Isles, storm ravaged archipelago about fifty miles off the coast. Decades ago, the Lycan King spared their high priestess from execution. In return, the coven swore a blood debt to the Lycan crown. Only they know how to weave phantom-wood—ships that glide over corrupted water, without sinking.”

Instead, Daniel turned back to his four-year-old daughter, Ruth, whose fiery red hair, the same shade as her mother’s, wafted in the wind, as she made endless inquiries about the other boats moored at the White Star Dock, one of which, The New Yorker, had gone a bit rogue only a few moments ago. Kelly, eventually, turned her attention to the deck above them as instructed, and after surveying the situation much longer than Meg was comfortable with, she finally turned back around. “You’re hallucinatin’, darlin’. I see plenty of handsome rich men, but I don’t think your betrothed is among them.”

“After several months at sea, we will dock at 23:00 EST in Greece in three weeks.” Wait. Greece? Knox’s head jerked. He looked at Aaron, who looked at Oscar, who mouthed back: “Weren’t we going to Guyana?” “Prepare yourselves,” Victor barked. “And take better care of yourselves. The stench of all of you is starting to feel like a personal attack.” "Dismissed!” The crew scattered like rats fleeing a sinking ship. “Knox! You stay back!” Knox flinched. "Dammit," he muttered, foot hovering above the stairs.

════════ ✥.❖.✥ ════════ ❝Chapter 14❞ "What happened? Why did the ship suddenly moved?" Gavin put a leather coat on my back and held my hand to help me on my steps. Cassius was glaring at him so I took my hand off from his and walk towards the left deck of the ship and saw that most of the shrouds are cut and the foremast broke. Mas lalong lumakas ang hangin kaya lumalakas lang lalo ang alon sa dagat. The next wave was able to set foot on the deck making me drenched from it.