I was always fascinated by the coral reef. The mystery. The uniqueness. The pure beauty.
I used to spend hours studying the coral. Lost in their tranquillity. Lately, I can barely afford to simply look at pictures. Even a glance is hard to come by. Work has been keeping me busy.
No, not work. Him. Hitler. No, not the German dictator. Our Hitler is British. Our Hitler doesn't have a mustache, he has a mysterious scar. And our Hitler doesn't discriminate against race or even gender, he discriminated against spare time.
Jeremy Bigg was a damn good rig manager, but he strongly rivaled the real Hitler with slave driving.
"What are you doing, Shaw?" Speak of the devil.
"Just came off a shift, Mr. Bigg," I answered, and rubbed my lower back. Pain shot up my spine. I could feel the after effects of another fourteen-hour shift.
"Already?" he sneered, checking his watch. I guess he realized his mistake because he grumbled something undistinguishable and strode off.
I took off her heavy boots and swung my feet down over the platform. I stared out into the quiet ocean in silent wonder. The wind rustled through my hair and my lungs welcomed the salty air.
The Silvercrest oil-rig was one of the biggest operating rigs today. More than 200 people live on it on a daily basis. Over 100 people can fly in on an average day.
People said engineering on a big oil-rig would be fun, no one warned me about the hours or the backache. I loved the challenge of it. The proximity to the ocean was a bonus.
Moments like these are rare, Old Hitler made sure of that. He even made sure that we think of him in moments like these. I press my forehead against the cold banister and tried to purge him out of my mind, as I continued to stare fascinated out to the ocean.
I couldn't help but miss my student years. Scuba diving. Exploring the ocean floor.
I should go inside, but the waves compelled me to stay. "Just another minute", they seem to whisper as they break against the pillars of the rig.
"Is the ocean calling you again, Nataline?" A voice asked from behind me, I jumped in surprise, I was so lost in my own thoughts, that I didn't hear Josh approach me.
"Funny," I responded dryly, as I turned around to face him. It was difficult to make out his scruffy brown hair, or his ice blue eyes with the sun setting just behind him. All I could see was the silhouette of a giant.
"Come on, Josh," Benji reprimanded good-naturedly as he joined us on the platform, "What's the chances that this green-eyed beauty will fall over the side again?"
I instantly turned bright red, remembering that night like it was yesterday. When you just start out, they warn you about strong winds, but you're never really fully prepared.
I looked at my friends sharply. Benji's face lit up with amusement, Josh was outright laughing. It wasn't long then, I just couldn't help but join in on it.
"Are you coming?" Josh asked. I nodded and I pulled myself up. I put on my boots and lost my balance. Before I could topple over, Benji grabbed my arm and steadied me. Our eyes locked. My heart thumped in my chest. This wasn't the first time his touch made me feel like a teenager. I wondered if he can feel it too?
In the distance, a bell rang. The spell broken, Benji let go of my arm. I averted my eyes, catching a glimpse of Josh in the effort. He had a strange look on his face. I couldn't put my finger on it but didn't give it a second thought as we walked over to the galley. The three of us have a set routine, ever since the accident, we always met after work and had supper together.
We just finished our last bites of what could have been the kitchen's greatest creation, when an alarm sounded so hard it seemed to course straight through our bones.
People started running everywhere, screaming.
You'd think when you work in the middle of the ocean, people would have a higher tolerance for danger, but no the panic level was about the same.
Josh, Benji and I looked at each other but stayed seated calmly.
"It's a tsunami warning," Benji stated in an almost whisper, "where do they think they're running to, we're all stuck in the middle of the ocean."
"Are we?" Asked Josh, as he pointed out the window.
The ocean was gone.
Until the horizon, all we could see was deep oceanic canyons and flopping marine life, no water in sight.
We decided then that we should probably follow the emergency protocol and moved outside. It was only seconds before we lost sight of each other through a whirlwind of panic and protocols.
I stood on the tallest part of the rig, my mind strangely clear. Beyond the rig, everything was remarkably still, no movement from the wind. I couldn't see the fixed tower holding us up, but was eternally grateful for it.
On the platform, people were pushing, running, screaming, getting to the helicopters as fast as possible.
It was chaos.
I should have been rushing to the helicopters myself, but my feet seem routed to the spot. I wondered, for a second, why I felt so calm, but the thought left faster than it came.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a deep rumbling sound droned louder and louder. And for a second, everybody stopped running. Everybody stopped screaming. It was as if someone pressed pause.
Everybody's jaws slacked as they all stared at the gigantic wave. If you can call a giant moving wall of water, a wave. You couldn't even see the tip of it, and it was a clear day.
Then all at once, the wave came rolling over. It didn't crash. Just neatly passed. Casually passing over like it was its everyday routine. The oil-rig was no competition for it. Even the helicopters were swished away in it.
I braced for impact, the wave hit me like a ton of bricks. I was hit unconscious, my body lifeless as the force of the wave pulled me down and made me hit the bottom of the ocean floor.
The reef turning crimson as my blood seeped out into the ocean.