Chapter 93: Broken Ship
The rain lashed down, a long rope dangling from the ship’s railing, momentarily suppressing the flanking fire. Jia Ming turned back, his voice a low murmur, “Lingjing, are you scared?”
“I… I’m not afraid…” she stammered.
“Then hold on tight!” Before the words even left his lips, Jia Ming’s left arm had wrapped around her, pulling her close. In a single, fluid motion, they leaped over the railing and down the rope.
Their legs whipped around the rope, securing them as they plummeted towards the smaller gunboat below. In the midst of the descent, Jia Ming’s right hand found the pistol at his waist. Aiming at the gunboat’s deck, he pulled the trigger, silencing three figures who had dared to peek out. They landed with a thud, the impact jarring.
He quickly ushered Lingjing behind a small, shielded cannon, the only place on the deck offering a semblance of protection from the relentless fire from the ship above. Jia Ming, a blur of motion, vanished into the gunboat’s interior.
Another volley of shots erupted, echoing through the storm-wracked space. The firelight danced, illuminating the rain-soaked deck. Lingjing, huddled behind the cannon, bit her lip, her body trembling uncontrollably. She’d said she wasn’t afraid, but the reality of the situation had sunk in. This wasn’t a story anymore; this was Jia Ming’s battlefield.
There was no retreat, no apology, no room for regret. Each bullet that ripped through the air was a potential death sentence. No matter how skilled he was, his life could be extinguished in the blink of an eye. The thought of it sent a wave of terror through her.
She’d read countless stories where the boy she loved stood as an invincible shield, protecting the girl he cherished. It was always so heartwarming, so comforting. But when Jia Ming stood before her, a true embodiment of that invincible shield, the warmth was overshadowed by a chilling dread. Not for herself, but for him. One misstep in this storm of lead, and everything… everything would be lost…
He was back in that danger zone, even for a brief moment. The thought of the potential consequences was unbearable. She clenched her jaw, fighting back tears. This time, she vowed, no matter what, she wouldn’t let him face this again. The mere thought of it sent a surge of uncontrollable fear through her.
Soon, the gunfire from the cabin ceased. The small gunboat, now under Jia Ming’s control, began to move across the water. He emerged from the cabin, his silhouette outlined against the flickering lights of the ship above. He fired a few shots towards the luxury liner, then rushed back, scooping Lingjing into his arms. As they entered the cabin, he hesitated, “Lingjing, close your eyes, okay? Inside the cabin…”
Lingjing, her eyes fixed on his, clutched his collar tightly, shaking her head resolutely. He sighed and carried her inside. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood. Two bodies lay sprawled on the floor, their blood staining the surrounding area. A few electrical wires, caught in the crossfire, sparked and crackled. Jia Ming gently placed her on a relatively clean seat and peered out the window, spotting two ships approaching from different directions.
“We can’t get back to the liner. We need to use this boat to escape. First, we need to use the transmitter to send a distress signal. The navy should arrive soon. Hopefully, the ship can hold out for another hour or two…”
Lingjing, seated, watched as Jia Ming’s fingers danced across the control panel, his brow furrowed in concentration. The gunboat surged forward, then lurched violently as an explosion rocked its side. A shell had landed in the water, missing the hull by a hair.
Looking back, her gaze passed through the cabin door, where the upper half of the once-glorious luxury liner slowly receded from view. Another jolt sent the gunboat swaying, and the pursuing ship was gaining ground.
“Thank goodness… they’re all focused on the money. Only one ship is following us. Don’t worry, Lingjing, we’ll be okay.” He offered a reassuring smile, but another shell exploded beside the boat. He focused on pushing the gunboat to its maximum speed, his brow creased with worry as he noticed several damaged instruments.
Watching him run back and forth, dodging the bodies and the pools of blood, Lingjing pushed herself off the seat. Ignoring the queasiness in her stomach, she dragged one of the bodies out of the way. As she went for the other, Jia Ming watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of apology, surprise, and approval. A small smile bloomed on her face, feeling encouraged by his silent acknowledgment. After removing the second body, she found a piece of cloth and began to push the viscous blood away from the doorway. Her hands were now sticky and stained, but she kept her lips tightly shut, fighting back the urge to cry or vomit.
Compared to what Jia Ming was doing, what was she doing, really?
The two of them worked tirelessly amidst the relentless rocking of the boat. Every now and then, a shell would land in the water beside them, sending a spray of water and debris their way. Jia Ming would occasionally dash to the rear of the cabin, into the gunnery room, to reload and fire back. It was all on him, after all. But firing cannons in the pitch-black, storm-tossed sea wasn’t easy; neither side seemed to have much accuracy.
But luck couldn’t last forever. After about twenty minutes, the Star Dream had vanished from sight. Jia Ming had just entered the gunnery room when a deafening blast ripped through the boat. The lights flickered, the instruments sputtered, and a large chunk of the front window shattered. The force of the blast sent Lingjing crashing into a stack of instruments, pain radiating through her body. She struggled to her feet, pushing towards the rear cabin door, which swung open at that moment. Jia Ming burst out, his eyes wide with concern.
“Lingjing, are you alright? Lingjing!”
“I… I’m fine. Just… a little bruised.”
Relieved to see she was unharmed, Jia Ming looked at the ship’s chaotic state, the shattered window, the flickering lights, and the malfunctioning instruments. He tried to activate them, but his brow furrowed in frustration. “Damn it… a direct hit. The boat won’t explode, but the engine and everything else is dead. Now…” As he spoke, Lingjing saw a plume of flames rising from the dark sea behind them. The other ship had been split in two. By comparison, their own vessel, though damaged, was still afloat. A stroke of luck, however small.
“Jia Ming, are we safe?”
“Well, at least for now. But the engine is out, the radio seems to be dead too. We’re at the mercy of the currents. The worst part is, someone might come looking for us…” He fiddled with a few instruments, managing to get two lights back on. He sighed, gazing at the shattered window, the wind and rain pouring in. “But at least we’re alive. Lingjing, there are two crew quarters at the back. You’re soaked. Let’s see if we can find some dry clothes for you and maybe a hot shower.”
The small gunboat, though only about twenty meters long, had a sturdy deck and surprisingly decent interior facilities. One room was partially destroyed, but it was high enough to prevent the boat from sinking. However, the mercenaries who lived here were messy, and the clothes were likely filthy. After searching for a while, Jia Ming found a few clean white blankets. He then confirmed that their water supply was sufficient for half a year. He connected the remaining power to the hot water system, allowing Lingjing to take a hot shower.
Fresh water was as precious as life itself at sea. Even though their supply seemed plentiful, they had no idea how long they’d be adrift on this crippled boat. Lingjing, having just endured a terrifying ordeal and a drenching in the rain, was the last person Jia Ming wanted to see get sick. While she was showering, he tossed the bodies overboard, placed a few buckets on the deck to collect rainwater, and thoroughly inspected the inside and outside of the boat. He knew how to sail, but he knew nothing about ship repairs. He was soaked to the bone by the time he made an exciting discovery – the radio might be repairable, but it would be a lot of work.
He breathed a sigh of relief. After Lingjing finished showering, he used the leftover hot water to wash himself. A seasoned assassin, he knew better than to make assumptions before everything was settled. Life was full of surprises, and he always tried to be prepared.
He pulled on some of the less-dirty clothes and settled down by Lingjing’s makeshift bed, waiting for her to fall asleep. She was uncharacteristically quiet, considering the traumatic events she had just experienced. Wrapped in two blankets, she simply stared at Jia Ming, her eyes wide and unblinking. They spoke softly, her voice unusually gentle. Finally, her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep. Jia Ming knew she was still haunted by fear. He watched her sleep, his heart heavy.
Lingjing could sleep, but he couldn’t. Someone had to be alert, watching for danger, ready to respond, or to call for help if necessary. He used a tarp to cover the shattered window, reducing the onslaught of wind and rain. Drawing on his experience with cars and other machinery, he fiddled with the broken instruments, managing to restore a couple of them, though they were largely useless. As midnight approached, he sat on the large sofa, winding small coils of wire, when a soft sound reached his ears. Lingjing, wrapped in her blankets, was standing beside him, her eyes still heavy with sleep.
“Jia Ming, I’m cold… I want to be with you.”
She wore nothing but the pendant Jia Ming had given her, her body curled up against his. She slipped her hand inside his shirt, pressing it against his chest, as if listening to his heartbeat. The blankets enveloped them, the wind whistling through the tarp and into the cabin. Soon, she was asleep again, her breathing slow and steady.
He held her close, his fingers winding the coils, as they weathered the long, monotonous night. He didn’t know when it happened, but his shirt was soaked. Lingjing, in her sleep, began to cry, the tears flowing silently at first, then turning into sobs and hiccups.
“Jia Ming… don’t die… I’m so scared…”