I leaned on the railing, a slender shape I was. The darkness rolled on... The wind scorched my cheeks like knives on tender skin. Icebergs loomed ahead – slowly at first, then hurrying by, reminiscent of phantoms on business. With all might I pried my eyes open, keeping those binoculars on the shadowy sea. I was frozen with the binoculars. Frozen with the railing. Frozen to the night.
A single narrow spear screamed across the waters. It startled me into life. It screamed inside my head. "INCOMING TORPEDO! INCOMING!" But the wind stole away my breathe. The deck shook under the impact. Glass burst with a terrific shriek; metal twisting, wood shattering. I saw men thrown like dolls. Lights flickered and died. Engines coughed once and were silenced. The foul smell of electricity burning… Everywhere, the taste of death.
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