Jim clambered onto the deck and got to his feet. “Come on, Mack. Let’s see what we can do.”
He followed Mack Gillis down the slanting deck.
“Avery! Hey, Avery!” That was Mitch Hadley’s voice.
Jim spun around.
Hadley was serving in communications tonight. He must have been destroying records in the radio room. He motioned with his thumb to the cargo net. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Men are trapped in number two gun mount.”
“Captain ordered abandon ship.”
“Yes.” Jim walked backward, intent on his goal. “He gave me a personal direct order to do so.”
“You—you’re disobeying a direct order?” A tone of awe entered Hadley’s voice. “You’re not floating?”
“Nope. Making waves.” Most likely a wave that’d drown him. Despite the destruction all around, despite the crackle of flames and the shouts of men and the acrid stench of smoke, despite the almost-certain death facing him, a smile crept up. “You don’t have to help me.”
Hadley paused, then loped toward him. “Are you kidding? And let Floating Jim get all the medals and commendations?”
Jim turned and dashed to the gun mount. “Most likely posthumous medals, you know.”
“The more of us working, the more likely some of us will live.”
“Thanks.” Jim shot him a grateful look. “Those are good men in there. They deserve a chance.”
The door to the handling room stood open. Jim poked his head in. Empty, thank goodness. Seven men safe.
Up to the gun mount. The ladder to the platform had been ripped away, so the men used pipes and dangling lines to get to the top.
Mack plastered his hands to the mangled wall of the mount. “Hank! Udell! Freddie! Can you hear me?”
Jim yanked on the twisted door, but it wouldn’t budge. “We need something to use as a crowbar.”
“The ladder!” Hadley leapt back down to the deck and handed the ladder up to Jim.
“That might work.” He jammed the end of the ladder into gaps in the door frame.
The ship creaked and tipped more to stern, to starboard. The fire heated the metal beneath Jim’s feet. If the flames reached the ammunition in the handling room down there, it’d be over in a gruesome flash.
“Come on! Hurry!” Jim and Mack leaned hard on the ladder, and the door squealed in protest. “Hadley, get back up here!”
“Already here.” He joined in.
The three men shoved with all their might, feet sliding on the deck. Jim didn’t want to think what was making the deck slippery. Fuel oil. Had to be fuel oil.
“O God, strengthen my hands!” The door popped open, and Jim flopped to his knees. “Out, out! Everyone out.”
But Mack climbed in. “Hank! You okay?”
“Come on! Come on!” Jim grabbed the first hand he reached.
The hot case man tumbled out the door. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”
“How bad is it?” Jim inspected the man for injuries, while Mack helped the powder man out.
“One man dead. Lots of men is hurt.”
