Chapter 2 warmth of the Pacific ocean
For the first forty-eight hours, the Sovereign of the Seas felt less like a ship and more like a five-star hotel that happened to be moving. Jack spent his time in the theater room, eating popcorn prepared by Chef Marco and playing high-speed racing games. The Wi-Fi was fast, the bed was soft, and the ocean was a flat, boring sheet of blue glass.
"Nature is overrated," Jack messaged a friend back in New York. "It’s just a big swimming pool with no shallow end."He didn't notice the barometer in the hallway dropping rapidly. He didn't see Captain Miller’s face turn grim as the satellite weather feed began to bleed dark red and purple.The change happened at 3:00 AM on the third night.It started with a sound—a low, guttural moan that seemed to come from the very metal of the ship. Jack was jolted awake as his $5,000 silk duvet slid off the bed. The yacht didn't just rock; it shuddered. It felt as if a giant hand had reached up from the depths and squeezed the hull.Jack stumbled out of bed, his feet hitting the cold floor. "Tom? Alfred?" he called out, his voice thin and shaky.No one answered. The hallway lights flickered and then died, replaced by the eerie red glow of the emergency power. Jack grabbed the wall to stay upright as the ship tilted at a terrifying angle. He could hear things breaking—expensive plates shattering in the kitchen, grand pianos sliding across the ballroom, glass windows snapping under the pressure of the wind.He scrambled up the stairs toward the bridge. Every time the ship hit a wave, it sounded like a cannon going off. When he finally pushed open the heavy door to the deck, the world he knew was gone.The sky wasn't black; it was a bruised, sickly green. The waves were no longer "water"—they were moving mountains of salt and foam, sixty feet high, looming over the yacht like predators. The wind screamed with a high-pitched whistle that hurt Jack’s ears, stripping the white paint off the railings."Captain!" Jack screamed, but his voice was swallowed by the roar.He saw Captain Miller at the wheel, his muscles bulging as he fought the hydraulic steering. "Get back below, Jack!" the Captain roared. "The stabilizers are gone! We’re taking on water in the engine room!"Jack froze. In his video games, when things got this bad, he could just pause or restart. He looked for the "Exit" button, but there was only the cold, stinging spray of the ocean hitting his face. For the first time in his life, money couldn't save him. His father’s billions couldn't make the wind stop.Suddenly, a massive rogue wave, larger than all the others, appeared out of the darkness. It didn't look like liquid; it looked like a wall of solid obsidian. It hit the Sovereign on the port side with the force of a freight train.The world turned upside down. Jack was thrown across the deck, his shoulder slamming into a metal cleat. Pain flared through his body—real, biting pain. He watched in horror as the masts snapped like dry toothpicks. The lights of the yacht—the beautiful, expensive lights—blinked once and went dark."Abandon ship!" a voice cried out from the darkness.Jack crawled toward the railing. Through the sheets of rain, he saw the yellow glow of a life raft being deployed. He saw the silhouettes of the crew—the men his father had hired to protect him—scrambling into the rubber boats."Wait for me!" Jack shrieked.But the ocean was a chaos of white foam. One lifeboat was swept away instantly, disappearing into the trough of a wave. The second one was being lowered, but the ship was groaning, a deep metallic scream that meant the hull was snapping in half.Jack reached the edge of the deck. The polished teak wood was now a slippery slide of oil and seawater. He saw a small, orange emergency raft bobbing in the water ten feet below. It was his only chance."Jump, kid!" someone yelled from the darkness.Jack looked at the black water. It looked like an endless throat waiting to swallow him. He thought of his room, his monitors, his soft bed. They felt like they belonged to a different person, a boy who had died five minutes ago.The ship gave a final, violent lurch. The bow began to point toward the stars, and the stern began to sink into the abyss. Jack didn't have time to be a billionaire’s son anymore. He closed his eyes, took a breath of salt and fear, and leaped into the dark.The impact with the water felt like hitting concrete. The cold was so intense it knocked the air out of his lungs. He struggled toward the surface, his heavy clothes pulling him down like anchors. His fingers brushed against something hard and rubbery—the edge of the raft.With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he hauled himself over the side. He lay in the bottom of the small boat, gasping, as the Sovereign of the Seas made its final descent. There was a sound of rushing air and gurgling water, and then—silence. The "Floating Palace" was gone.Jack was alone. No butlers. No chefs. No father. Just a boy in a rubber boat, tossed by a storm that didn't care who his father was.As a flash of lightning illuminated the horizon, Jack saw a dark shape in the distance. A jagged outline of trees and rocks. Land.He gripped the sides of the raft as a wave carried him toward the unknown. He didn't know it yet, but the shipwreck was the easiest part. The island was waiting.
