Accident
1305 Words
I clutched the chip in my fist, my palm slick with sweat. Two a.m., and the ship's cabin felt like a tin can—every crashing wave sent vibrations rattling through my skull.
Static hissed in my earpiece. No signal. I hissed into it: "Hey! Talk to me!"
Only the ocean answered.
Fuck this. Midnight rendezvous, no contact, no backup—what kind of operation was this?
The cabin door creaked open. Bao's round face appeared in the crack, his lips curled in that half-smirk. "Second Brother. Still up?"
I palmed the chip into my cigarette pack and shoved it under the pillow in one smooth motion—fast enough to impress myself.
"Can't sleep. Need a drink," I said, faking a yawn.
Bao jiggled a plastic bag. "Erguotou and duck necks. Coming?"
I studied his eyes, searching for tells. In the dim light, his pupils gleamed like a starved cat's.
"Let's go." I swung my legs off the bunk. The floor was ice under my bare feet.
The storm had worsened. Rain slanted sideways, stinging like shards of glass.
Bao slapped a liquor bottle onto a mooring post and handed it to me. I twisted the cap off and took a burning swig, the alcohol doing nothing to steady my nerves.
"Second Brother," he said suddenly, "you think the sea ever gets full? Of all the bodies we feed it?"
My gut twisted. The image of the skinny guy's bloated face flashed in my mind.
"The sea swallows men whole," I muttered.
Bao chuckled, the sound raising my hackles. He pulled something from his pocket—a key, brass, glinting cold under the deck lights—and slapped it onto the post.
"For the chains in the hold," he said, winking. "Found it."
My breath hitched. How the hell did he get this? Trap or lifeline?
I played dumb. "Why grab it?"
Bao leaned in, liquor thick on his breath. "Second Brother, let's cut the s**t. I saw you crouched behind the freezers tonight. That guy... he's a cop, right?"
I nearly dropped my bottle.
I ran my tongue over my molars, weighing options: Deny? Fight? Gamble?
"So what if he is?" I kept my voice low. "You turning me in?"
Bao stared for two heartbeats, then grinned. "Turn you in? I'd sell my own mother before crossing you. Just... this brother wants off the boat. Doesn't wanna be fish food."
His voice shook—too raw to be fake. Relief warred with fresh suspicion. What's this fat bastard's angle?
I took the key. The metal was freezing.
"Tomorrow. Midnight," I said. "We cut him loose and jump ship."
Bao nodded, then shook his head. "Waves'll be hell at midnight. Shift change—11:40. Only two guards on the gangway."
I did the math. Enough time.
"11:40 it is."
We clinked bottles. Liquor sloshed onto the key, spreading like blood.
Back in my cabin, I locked the door and worked in the dark. The chip slid into my laptop's port.
The screen flickered. Password prompt.
First try: the skinny guy's birthday. Error.
Second: police academy founding date. Error.
Cold sweat dripped down my spine.
The earpiece crackled to life. "Password's M-28's badge number. Last six digits. Three wrong tries locks it."
I ground my teeth. "Where the f**k were you? We almost got wiped out!"
"Signal jammer onboard. I've been sitting in a satellite dead zone for thirty f*****g minutes."
I entered the badge number. Files exploded across the screen—videos, coordinates, ledgers. My eyes blurred.
"Focus on the 'Whale Fall' folder," the handler said. "Burn the chip after copy."
The progress bar crawled. My pulse matched it.
70%...
Heavy footsteps pounded down the corridor. Straight for my door.
I snapped the laptop shut and jammed the chip back into my shoe sole.
Bang bang bang.
Du Ming's voice through the door: "Second Son. Sleeping?"
My throat dried. I cleared it. "Just laid down, Godfather."
"Open up. Dressing change."
Bullshit. He'd just changed it this morning.
I stuffed the laptop under blankets and opened the door shirtless.
Du Ming carried a medical kit, his gaze sweeping the room like a searchlight before settling on me.
"You're pale."
I forced a grin. "Drank too much."
He hummed, motioned me to sit, and unwrapped the bandage.
The wound glared back—red and swollen around the stitches, a grotesque centipede.
He pressed a cotton ball to it. I hissed.
"Hurts?"
"Manageable."
His voice dropped. "Someone made trouble in the hold tonight. You hear?"
My heart stalled. "What trouble?"
"Chains cut. Cop almost got loose."
His fingers dug into the wound. I barely stifled a scream.
"You suspect me?" I gritted out.
Du Ming locked eyes with me. "I trust one kind of man. Dead men."
Fresh gauze applied, he patted my shoulder. "Rest. We dock tomorrow."
I nodded him out, locked the door, and slid down it, legs shaking violently.
The laptop still glowed under the blankets. 97%...
I crawled to it, watching that last sliver like a countdown to execution.
99%... 100%.
I yanked the chip free just as—
BOOM!
The ship lurched violently left. I rolled under the bunk. The laptop crashed to the floor.
Sirens wailed. Red emergency lights strobed.
The handler's voice screamed in my ear: "Coast Guard! Two patrol boats closing fast!"
What the f**k?! The raid wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow!
I burst onto deck. The rain had intensified. Searchlights split the night, turning the sea to daylight.
Two white-and-blue patrol boats cut through the waves. A megaphone boomed: "Black Whale III, heave to for inspection!"
Chaos. Crewmen scrambled with buckets and rifles, a swarm of panicked ants.
Du Ming stood on the bridge, his trench coat billowing like a black flag.
He turned. His gaze sliced through the crowd—and locked onto me.
In that instant, my blood turned to ice.
He raised a hand, pointed directly at me, and mouthed two words:
"Traitor."
BANG!
The first gunshot sparked off the bridge's metal plating.
Pandemonium. Return fire. Men diving for cover.
I ducked toward the railing—had to ditch the chip before—
A hand grabbed my arm. Bao, face ghost-white in the rain: "Second Brother! Jump!"
I roared: "We didn't get him out!"
"Too late!"
He dragged me toward the life raft.
Another bullet whizzed past my ear. My eardrums rang.
Peripheral vision: Du Ming leapt from the bridge, coat flaring like a raptor's wings, coming straight for me.
My stomach dropped. Game over.
Then—
A figure tackled Du Ming mid-stride.
*M-28!*
Somehow freed, bloodied but alive, he clung to Du Ming's waist like a vice.
"JUMP!" he bellowed at me.
My throat burned as if scalded. Tears mixed with rain.
Bao shoved me into the raft, knife slashing the ropes.
We hit the water hard, instantly swept away by the current.
I twisted around. Black Whale III blazed with light, gunfire and shouts blending with the storm.
Du Ming broke free, raised his pistol—
I ducked.
BANG!
But the shot wasn't at me.
M-28 staggered, a crimson flower blooming on his chest.
His final gaze met mine. His lips moved:
"Live."
The raft drifted farther. The ship shrank to a speck.
I knelt on the rubber floor, the chip digging into my palm, nails drawing blood.
Rain pelted my face, sharp as needles.
I screamed into the void: "f**k YOU, SEA!"
The wind tore the words away.
The handler's voice crackled, shaky: "Rescue en route. Hold for thirty."
I wiped my face—salt and wet, indistinguishable.
The chip burned against my chest through soaked fabric.
I looked down at my wound, the stitches pale and puckered in the rain, like a grinning mouth.
A reminder:
I'm alive.
But the game—
The game has just begun.
- Writer
