It could have been us. Thing was, it still could be us. That was a thought I couldn’t rightly stand. No way could I—especially after lookin’ down at the aftermath of the attack. It had been only a day, but for the boys that had escaped the sinkin’ tomb, it probably felt like an eternity. I could see pieces of men floatin’ in the death soup and shark fins everywhere dartin’ through to claim more meat. It seemed I had the binoculars to myself now. I could see shoes. Empty life vests. Hands standin’ straight out of the water. Faces still attached to skulls bobbin’ in the waves. Was it all real, or was my mind inventin’ fresh terrors to satisfy my dread? The more it sickened me, the more I scanned for the bitter pills of horror. One of the young ensigns started firin’ a pistol down at the shar
