CHAPTER ELEVEN SOULS AT SEA
Rogers was crouching behind the closed door of the cabin. His face was veiled by a sweaty pellicle and his wide open eyes were staring at the window in the transom, from where he was watching the sun rising slowly with a maniacal intensity, as if he hadn’t seen anything like that before.
The days after they had found the brig had been terrible, being sure that the crew was plotting something in his back. Their sidelong looks, the words uttered with a twisted mouth, their low laughter… everything helped making his sense of alienation deeper, where even the shadow of a rat trotting along a rope, could turn into the crawling projection of a nightmarish creature ready to eat him up.
He couldn’t trust anybody, actually.
If O’Hara was here with me, he had told
