Overboard

I felt another wave of nausea hit me at the scent of the oil. An instinctive response to the danger of an impending fire.

My unease was growing by the moment. I put a hand to my stomach to settle the rolling that threatened to spill my last meal.

Whenever that was.

I waved for all the sickly little men to gather around us, so we were ready to flood the deck as one.

Bale told them our plant was to hit the deck in one wave.

They all nodded understanding. Looking weak from blood loss.

And likely lack of food.

I selfishly hoped that if there were enough of us, I could vanish amidst the taller men and the distraction of so many of us would not allow anyone to stop us all. Increasing the likelihood of more of us escaping.