South Seas

"Hahaha! My turn to laugh, dear wife. You've no idea what you're talking about. Then again, I didn't marry you for your brains. You're just so-so in bed, but I'm glad to be the one who took away your virginity. Hahaha!" Ana spat at him and got a stinging slap in return.

"You should learn to respect me more, Ana. I want you to know I've made my decision. Don't worry; I'm not going to kill you. I want you to know also that I didn't take too long mulling over it, and that I'm going to be a little disappointed. Disappointed in the fact your fate is going to earn me less money that if you're dead. You see, Ana, I'm going to sell you as a slave. I didn't know until Miro told me, that a slave could fetch such a high price. Especially a European one. You fit that bill nicely. The locals here have not fucked a European before. I'm sure that you'd enjoy that experience immensely. Hahaha! I may even let Mumaz here have the first go, although it would lower down your price once he's through with you. Hahaha!..."

"You monster!... You fucking bastard... You... You..."

"Oh, by the way, I want you to know that it was I who killed your father. That stupid old man was getting too close. It cost me a lot of money to put a lid on the cause of his death. But like then, I don't care about the loss of money in return for the pleasure of your fate. How do you feel about fucking your father's murderer all this time? Hahaha! Hahaha!..."

"Goddamn you... My father... My father... Goddamn you to hell... Goddamn you..."

"Hahaha! I haven't had so much fun in years. Now, now, Ana. You might enjoy all those small dicks in every hole. In your mouth or pussy or ass or even all at once. You might even get some in your ears, if they can manage it. They're that small. Hahaha! Hahaha!..."

"Goddamn you... My father... Why, Marcelo? I thought you love me?"

"My dear Ana. I thought you weren't too smart. But I never would have believed that you're a complete idiot. You're so childish, you know. I never loved you. It was just good acting that you thought I did. By the way, even Maria, your maid, was a better fuck than you were."

She spat at him, but he easily avoided it. The slap on her face drew blood.

The laughter faded with the door securely closed and locked.

Ana tried crying, but no tears came. There was anger, but it was not enough for her to take action. Her life had been one big lie, and the biggest one was her believing Marcelo all this time. In just that short period of time, her entire world came crashing down. For all she knew her bronzed native and lover was already dead. There would be no knight in shining armour to come and save her. There would be no cavalry charge at the last minute.

All her will to live started to drain from her, until the image of her smiling father brought her short. He was no saint but he was still her father. And her father loved her to pieces. He doted on her, his little Princess who could get every whim and fancy fulfilled. And he did not begrudge her for that. Instead, she was his life after the untimely death of Ana's mother.

It was how she remembered him that she snapped out of her despair. There might not be much of chance for escape, but she could not be sure until she tried. Besides, the saying "nothing else left to lose" came to mind. The cabin that was her prison was secure. There were no portholes. The door was a stout bulkhead type. It did not budge an inch. The bed was securely bolted to the deck. There was no chair or tables, nothing that could be used to break out.

Then she saw the small ventilation port above her head. It was a tight squeeze, but definitely an option. Only if she had the tool to get the grille off. She first tried it with her fingernails, but after breaking most of them, she gave up. She walked around in circles hoping there would be something. It was futile and it only made her more tired. The squeaks of her rubber soled sandals on the creaking deck added to her irritation. She bent down and took them off, and was about to throw them against the bulkhead when she saw the small metal buckle.

The rusty screws holding up the grille was hard to get off. It even bent the metal buckle. Eventually she was rewarded for her patience and efforts. She knew that she would get more cuts and bruises, principally on her breasts and buttocks, when going through. She was momentarily scared that she might get stuck halfway up, if there was a bend, although the tube had a nice curve and there was sunlight at the end.

She underestimated the squeeze that she had to endure. When she moved only inches she thought that she had gotten stuck, although she was still making steady progress. And just in time too as the bulkhead door crashed open and in walked Mumaz. In a flash, his hands shot up to try to grab her. The very inches that she had so painfully gained made all the difference. She could hear Mumaz's disgruntled voice fading as he tried to get up on deck to meet her at the top.

She painfully made her way back down, instead of up. In his haste, Mumaz had forgotten to close the bulkhead door. The corridor was dark and smelly. The first sound she heard made her bolt down a flight of steps. It was not what she had planned to do. But one way was as good as another. The smells down below were more pungent which made her instantly regret her decision. Breathing through her mouth helped a bit although she cringed at the thought of what kind of germs was entering her.

Soon she heard the diesel come to life. There was several spluttering starts, and a lot of curses spoken in a foreign language. She could only hear one voice. The steady thump of the diesel made her bold enough to walk into the engine room. It smelled of grease, diesel and that awful fishy smell. It was a wonder that she had not passed out by now.

Amidst the noise and smell was a figure slumped down to work on a part of the engine. He was too busy to notice her bolting the door. If she could get rid of him, or put him out of action, this room would be secure enough until she could figure out her next move. Truth to be told, she was absolutely out of ideas at that moment.

She could barely lift that huge wrench above her head. By the time she got it up to her shoulders, the engineer looked up. He yelled just once before that wrench came crashing down, breaking his jaw in the process. The blood flowed freely, but he was still kneeling trying to shake his misfortune away instead of lying down. His automatic reaction was to lash out with his fist. It was satisfying to feel it connect with soft skin, but not as satisfying for Ana instead to see that her efforts would be the last thing that he will ever feel.

Ana saw that fist came flying. But there was not a darn thing she could have done about it...

******

"Sudah?"

"Ya, Tuan."

The trawler made its way slowly out of the cove. It was mid-afternoon already, and blasted hot. Any wet clothes dried immediately, only to be wet again with sweat. It did not fazed Miro since he was rich enough or will be to buy air-conditioning and have it run twenty-four hours a day. He looked back and was glad to see that Marcelo was getting the yacht ready to leave as well. The yacht would overtake him out in the open sea. The trawler laden with heroin would make slow going. Miro even had a scheduled stop at Barandung despite the presence of the police post there. He was that cocky.

He was surprised that Marcelo had agreed so quickly to sell Ana as a slave. Initially, Miro had opposed the idea since a dead woman would tell no tales. But he saw the big grin on Marcelo's face and his opposition crumbled. Once this trawler was fully out in the open sea, he would try her out first. It had been a while since he was with a girl. It would make her price higher a bit if she could be taught how to suck a cock without biting it off.

He was relishing the thought of training Ana during the trip when he felt a small shudder on the deck planking. Then the groan of the diesel started getting louder, but the forward momentum of the trawler had dropped off. In a few more moments, they were reduced to drifting, with no responses from the rudder.

"Mad, pergi tengok apa hal..." Miro was certain that the propellers had been fouled up by seaweed. The huge amount of floating green on either side made that assumption easy. He cursed himself for not paying attention. Now they would loose an hour or two trying to cut it away.

The diesel was still chugging away, which made Miro suspicious. He saw Mumaz rush up to deck and ordered him back down to check. It would be disastrous if the diesel broke down. It would be days, even weeks, for a new diesel. They had spare parts onboard either. This was not turning out to be a good day.

Ahmad "Mad" held up one finger when he reappeared on the surface. This was good news as it only meant an hour. Then Miro momentarily could not understand the gesture that Mad was making. The slice of the palm across the neck. Damn! The diesel was still going. Nothing would happen until it was shut down. What the hell was Mumaz doing?

Miro was about to make the "hold a moment" gesture when he saw that Mad had disappeared underwater. There were a few bubbles rising to surface, but Miro did not think that Mad would be stupid enough to try un-fouling the propellers while the diesel was still going. Unless Mad preferred to become minutely chopped sushi which was highly unlikely. Something was not right here. He did not think that Mad would have missed the wait signal.

Miro quickly made his way the wheelhouse. There was a switch there that can turn off the diesel. That connection was supposed to have been fixed by Zal, since it did not work the last time. He had no idea that Zal had not done so.

******

Jac saw him dive into the shallow water. The mass of seaweed worked after all. Theory was all good and nice on paper, but until actually proven, it was worthless. The small dark native did not see the larger dark mass come up from behind. The knife was so slow in its travel that Jac thought he would miss before connecting. So it really satisfying to see the gurgle of bubbles intermingle with globs of blood as the knife pierced through the lungs.

Unfortunately, it looked too nice as the huge Bowie got stuck on a rib bone. Jac was running out of breath trying unsuccessfully to pull it out. He had to let it sink together with Mad as he swam up. Despite losing the knife, he was glad that the side of the trawler was low enough for him to pull himself up without being noticed. He was just about to get his feet up on deck when he felt the entire trawler shudder.

The diesel sputtered once, and then the sounds of gears tearing could be heard and felt. The trawler suddenly lurched to one side and left Jac's feet dangling over the side. He hung on for dear life as the port propeller had started turning again. The trawler was turning in a circle and was heading for the outcropping of reef. The boom of the surf was loud enough even over the roaring diesel.

That abrupt lurch had tossed Miro to one side like a rag doll. When he got back up he could feel the blood and bump on his forehead. It was not enough to knock him unconscious but it was still painful. The movement of the trawler brought him to full alertness. The white frothy surf in the path told him everything. There was not a minute left to loose. Miro thought that the wheel had jammed when he tried to counteract the direction. In reality the trawler was indeed moving off from danger. The minutes and seconds had seemed like hours.

Jac felt a bit of corrals taking skin off the bottom of his feet. With a final grunt, he plopped himself on the deck like a caught fish. The first thing that he saw when he opened his eyes again was the figure dangling from the mast. The birds were still having a field day of free food. He was glad that he had nothing in stomach left to throw up. He thought he recognized Hassan but the face was too badly mangled.

Jac was expecting someone to come and accost him. But after a while there did not seem to be anyone on board. By the time he got his breath back and fought down the pain on his shoulder, he saw only one person in the wheelhouse. He quickly grabbed a boat hook and headed that way, staying out of sight the best he could. In his weakened condition surprise was the best weapon he had. The extra clips of ammunition were still stuck in the waistband of his shorts but the gun had disappeared amongst the rocks where he dove down. It was bad luck as he had thought the he had secured it before jumping.

Ramiro never saw the boat hook biting into his back. He only felt the extreme pain and subsequent the numbness on his left side. In the process of turning and falling, he pulled the wheel hard to one side. The diesel transmitting all power to that single propeller probably saved his life. The abrupt change in direction threw the both of them aside. If Jac had a few moments more and enough strength, he would have driven the hook pass the lungs and into the heart and that contest would have been over.

The pitch of the trawler continued as both of them struggled to recover.

Then a loud scraping boom could be heard coming from the keel followed immediately by a massive jerk. The out of control ship had hit a submerged rock. Like a car hitting something solid, this new jolt threw Miro out of the wheelhouse in a tangle with Jac. When it passed and the trawler resumed its deadly course, the both of them had recovered sufficiently to stand up and eye each other. Miro reached for the boat hook lodged in his shoulder blades, which gave Jac an opening to strike. The blow was weak but enough to send Miro reeling to the side with a loud shriek of pain. The railings prevented him from falling overboard.

Jac had in mind a follow-up to his punch but he did not get that far. Miro had the reaction to lash out with a kick to Jac's midsection. That kick was enough to send Jac staggering back, smashing his injured shoulder on the door of the wheelhouse. That certainly stopped his backwards momentum but the pain shooting to his brain made him pass out momentarily.

Miro tried to lift his left arm up but it was useless. The railings just barely helped him on his feet. There was no blood on his eyes, but the stars and blurriness were out in full force. He thought he saw the shape of a man slumped on the deck before him. He could not be sure as everything was beginning to have a double image and each image was trying to merge with the other. His shaking of his head did not work in trying to clear his mind.

He stumbled forward hoping that the wall would be solid to his touch if not to his eyes. His leg found Jac first, which to Miro was even better. Jac groggily felt the boot to his side. A few more bruised or broken ribs would not matter anyway. He was more likely to bleed to death than die from a punctured lung.

Miro made his poorly judged decision to throw Jac overboard. He grabbed Jac by the hair and throat. Miro had to use his remaining strength to drag Jac to the railing. In the process, he did not realize that Jac had come around and had grabbed a life preserver. And he certainly did not realize that Jac's free hand had firmly locked onto the stub of the boathook.

Jac felt the impact of the water and knew that he would not have enough strength left to get back on board. Especially not with Ramiro having a death grip on him. The two of them struggled to get their heads above the water. Both of them had thought that each would be the float that would get them on the surface. Jac managed to get in a sucker punch as he gasped for air.

The sea around them was soon red with their blood. Jac was starting to see more stars than before. His vision was blurring so rapidly that he might as well have closed his eyes. But still he clung on to Ramiro. Occasional he would get in a lucky punch or kick, some of that underwater. Ramiro on the other hand had no intention of being passive. His knuckles and elbow connected solidly a few time. But all those blows felt like small mosquito slaps, unnoticed.

Jac was the first one to see the dark shapes underwater in the distance rushing towards them. That was the sign that things getting worst by the second. He could not see the trawler anymore, which was a problem. Sharks can smell blood from miles away.

But it was not sharks that got there first. The dark shapes turned out to be a family of stingrays, with their long spike tails swishing like snakes. The warm seas around the Arang Archipelago were the perfect place for the annual gathering of stingrays during the mating season. This group appeared to be early comers. And they were not deviating from their course for anything, not even for the two men struggling.

Miro sought and found Jac's injured shoulder. With his remaining strength he applied pressure on the wound. The gurgle of huge amount of bubbles signalled to him that Jac was indeed on his last breath. Then using Jac's head as a step, Miro propelled himself up to the surface for the much-needed breath of air.

His head broke the surface and gasped like a mad man drinking more seawater than getting air. This made him trash around blindly which would be the end of him. In his trashing he failed to realise that he had hit a baby ray. The parent however saw that, enraged beyond measure.

The spike, normally containing poison, went through Ramiro's chest like a steel pin through a cushion. As the 2-metre wingspan of darkness swept away, the lifeless body disengaged and gently sank to the bottom leaving a trail of blood rising to the top.

Jac saw the white bobbing shape on the surface. He hoped that it was not a figment of his imagination. Nevertheless it served as beacon for him to rise to the surface. His head broke the surface, and a few feet away were the life preserver that he so desperately needed. A few more strokes were all that was needed, although Jac doubted if he had that much to give.

There was no more strength left. As each second pass, it seemed like the white floating hope was moving away from him. With a final hurl of his arm he caught the life preserver. But it seemed to be too late as his strength and consciousness left him. He had given up, with the final realisation that he failed her.

******

The roll of the trawler threw Ana roughly against the wall of the engine room. She would not have wakened up if not for the night soil bucket sitting on top of a shelf above her. The pungent urine brought her to her senses, and by the time she realise that, she thought she was going to faint again. The incessant pounding on the door told her that she could not do so.

Then all hell broke loose as the ship hit a submerged rock. There were sparks everywhere, and the sound drowned out everything. The strong lurch threw Ana against the door. When things calmed down a bit, out of the corner of Ana's eye she saw a piece of gear tooth stuck mere centimetres from her head. There were subdued grindings of mechanism still going on.

Ana did not wait to find out if her luck was still holding as she fled from the dangerous engine room. Not only from flying shrapnel, also from the fear that the sparks might ignite oil and grease. She fell headlong onto the deck when she tripped over the unconscious Mumaz. He had a very nasty welt on his forehead and she could see several pieces of teeth on the deck.

The trip up to the weather deck was no less precarious. As she got to the top, she nearly fell all the way back down when the ship suddenly turned. She knew that she had broken a rib when her body hit the steps, but she held on to the railing.

The rest of climb out into the fresh air and sunlight was done painfully. As were the long and deep drawls of air when she got there. The ship was still out of control, but at least now her chances of survival were increased. She heard and felt the booming surf rather than saw them. There was no one at the wheelhouse or anywhere else as far as she could see.