Yet again, another Story Mint talent. Dan Oliver has written several chapters for the serials. Here is one he wrote for a preface I submitted. This was about some nasty things going on out on a deserted oil rig. I think all involved in this one thoroughly enjoyed themselves. If you want to read the whole 10 chapters the link is below. It is a good read.
A crack of thunder woke Sherwin up from his troubled sleep. Bleary eyed he rolled over and looked at his alarm clock. The digital display slowly came into focus – it was 4.53am. Sherwin sighed and threw off the blankets, he knew he wouldn't get any more sleep.
A flash of lightening lit up the room
momentarily followed closely by another clap of thunder. “Welcome to the
tropics I guess,” Sherwin murmured. The muggy weather, frequent storms and
wildlife of South America were a far cry from his pleasant suburban life he had
left behind.
Suddenly a forceful gust of wind rocked the
house and rain started pelting the windows of Sherwin’s bedroom. “Damn! The
Daphne!” The rough weather quickly brought back the reality of the mission home
to him. Tugging on some clothes, Sherwin rushed downstairs to the clandestine
radio facility they had assembled.
Sherwin had not been able to raise the
Daphne or her crew in almost 48 hours. The weather reports confirmed his fears
– a major cyclone was forming offshore; right in the path of the Daphne.
*******
Grant Bishop felt exhaustion through every
bone in his body. The last stage of his voyage in the Daphne had sapped every
ounce of strength from him. He descended from topside back to the lower decks
of the platform looking for any signs of life. No such signs were forthcoming
and he decided to work his way across to the communications room located on the
lower deck right beneath the accommodation block.
The door to the communications room was
ajar. Grant could hear static from the main speaker as he approached. As he
reached for the handle he hesitated - the whole platform was starting to give
him the creeps. He took a breath and pulled the door outward, slowly. The room
was empty. His fear subsiding, Grant picked up the microphone and started
running through the secure channels that the team had agreed to use before the
trip.
*******
“No luck again,” thought Sherwin. It was
nearly 7am and the channels he had polled were all blank.
“Mr Landing, come in. Over,” crackled the
radio, startling Sherwin. He grabbed the microphone.
“Sherwin Landing receiving. Is that you
Bishop? Over.” Sherwin could not mask his relief.
“Affirmative. I have arrived. Over.”
“Are Cromwell and Downs with you? What
happened out there? Over.”
A long silence followed.
“We were hit by that storm… I’m the only
one who made it,” said Bishop eventually. He sounded tired.
“The Daphne?” Asked Sherwin.
“Gone.”
Sherwin had to take a moment to compose
himself.
“Okay. At least you’re aboard, so we can
proceed,” Sherwin’s mind was racing, Grant Bishop’s predicament had some dire
implications.
*******
As Grant Bishop put down the microphone his
exhaustion returned in full strength and he decided to find a spot to grab some
sleep. As he turned to leave his eye caught sight of something that made his
blood freeze – a dead body hunched over in the corner.
Dan Oliver (NZ)
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