Three days later, the weather turned. Dark clouds rolled in from the north, and the wind picked up, whipping the Gulf waters into angry whitecaps. Schmidt ordered all hands on deck to reef the sails and secure the cargo.

Faline and Argus worked frantically in the galley, stowing loose items and battening down anything that might shift in heavy seas. By the time they finished, the ship pitched violently, and rain began to pelt the deck.

“Better get topside,” Argus shouted over the growing wind. “We’ll need to man the bilge pumps.”

They climbed to the deck to find chaos. Crew members struggled with the rigging as waves crashed over the bow. Schmidt stood at the helm with the helmsman, trying to keep the ship pointed into the wind.

“Argus! Tripps!” Lukas called from near the port rail. “Get to the pumps!”

Faline and Argus rushed to one of the large pump cranks. Two other crewmen manned the second pump. Taking turns, they cranked the handles, water pouring up from the bilge tube and dumping back into the sea. The cold rain soaked through Faline’s clothes within minutes, and her arms quickly began to ache.

Thunder boomed overhead, and lightning split the sky. The ship creaked and groaned like a living thing in pain.

A massive gust of wind slammed into the ship, catching the partially reefed mainsail. The boom swung wildly, and someone screamed a warning.

Faline looked up just in time to see the upper boom breaking free from its rigging. It swung toward her like a massive club.

“Look out!” Argus shoved her aside.

The boom crashed into the bilge pump mechanism, splintering wood and sending metal flying. Something struck Faline’s leg with tremendous force, and she went down hard. Pain exploded through her left side, and she screamed.

Then the world went dark.