Part V
The Gray Plague
The last rays of sunlight were just slipping beneath the horizon when the Widow's rowboat quietly thumped against the giant vessel's hull. "We we've made it this far Mr. Klemmens." said the Widow breathlessly, stowing away the oars so as not to trip over them. She and Mr. Klemmens had followed the immense ship as closely as they could for the rest of the afternoon. Just when they thought they were about to lose it, the ship stopped dead and the old Victorian boathouse was finally able to catch up. The Widow and Mr. Klemmens had waited until the sun was just about to set before grabbing some supplies and approaching the vessel, believing it would be harder to spot them on the dark blue sea at dusk.
Rain had begun to drizzle lightly as they set out in the small rowboat and now, as Mr. Klemmens tied the boat to a cleat on the monster-ship's hull, it was turning into a squall. The rain poured down like ice cold daggers as the Widow grabbed the flintlock pistol she had wrapped in a cloth and shoved it into her satchel. She wore a rubber slicker over her dress and had secured a tiny dagger to her thigh with an old red scarf. "Ready?" she whispered to Mr. Klemmens, who was standing at the stern of the rowboat wearing a dark green, hooded cape; a grappling hook dangling from his throwing paw. The old scimitar he wore was now slung over his shoulder, crisscrossing on his back with a falchion in a red scabbard. He nodded to the Widow as he swung his grappling hook around and around, faster and faster. Then with supreme timing and incredible accuracy he let go of the hook, sending it catapulting up, over, and onto the deck of the ship. He winced at the metal clang it made and yanked hard, wedging the hook into the underside ledge of the deck. He tugged again to check the tension and began to climb upwards, slowly. "Stay in the boat until I signal you Sabishane. Let me scout out the vessel first." said Mr. Klemmens. The Widow looked up at him, the rain splattering off her thick glasses as she nodded solemnly.
Mr. Klemmens flattened his ears back and peeked over the ledge of the deck. His glowing eyes darted back and forth in the darkness as rain spattered loudly on the metal deck. Thunder rolled above him and lightening cracked through the thick black clouds, illuminating the huge steaming towers and the giant cogs of black metal that loomed over him. The colossal black wheels turned endlessly; over and over while iron and steel shrieked like a dying banshees, churning the great engines below. Mr. Klemmens stayed still for a moment, peering over the edge of the deck. When he did not see anyone pass by, he slowly climbed up over the ledge and jumped onto the deck. Keeping to the shadows Mr. Klemmens skulked around the area, checking for signs of sentries or guards...but there were none. In fact, the entire deck of the ship seemed abandoned aside from stacks of crates and a few empty oil drums. Mr. Klemmens snuck back to the ledge and signaled the Widow to come up.
Down in the rowboat, the Widow Sabishane tied the end of the rope that was dangling from the grappling hook around her waist and gave it a tug before beginning to climb up. When she arrived at the top Mr. Klemmens helped to pull her over the ledge and they both sat hunkered down in the shadows. "There are no guards anywhere Sabishane." Mr. Klemmens whispered. "Just boxes and oil drums." The Widow looked around warily as the rain came pattering off her slicker and cascading down the front of her hood, like several miniature waterfalls. "Alright, let's find a way in and see if we can locate where they keep the prisoners." Mr. Klemmens nodded and motioned for the Widow to stay put. He got down on all fours and lowered himself to the floor so that his belly was barely skimming the deck, as he began to crawl towards the bow of the giant vessel.
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