The ship was balanced, listing only a bit.
The storm had gained in intensity as Kora moved onto the deck, seeing the opposite ship flying beside them, parallel to them.
Kora couldn't see anyone on their deck, because she couldn't see their deck.
Scarlet was beside her.
"Cover me," said Kora, as their ship shook side to side.
Because of the sail.
A small length of loose sail could have a large effect on the flight pattern of a ship.
She ran across the deck, feet light as the wind tried to pick her up. She made it to the main mast, threw the two extra grapple guns she'd been carrying on the deck. Then she went to work on the sail, trying to fold it back into place so she could strap it down.
Scarlet was beside her, holding the long rifle.
Watching the pirate ship.
"Miner's Danger," Scarlet yelled.
"Never heard of it," said Kora, without taking her eyes off her work.
That's when Ricky and Jeff appeared, coming from the opposite side of the deck. Nearly gave Kora a heart attack. TJ came out, following them.
"Hey!" said Kora. "Glad you're alive."
"Pirates," said Ricky. "It's a freakin' pirate ship."
"You heard of it?"
Ricky began helping her with the sail.
Jeff was holding a pistol, staring at Miner's Danger, his black coat whipping all around him.
"Tie it here," Kora groaned, trying to pin the damn thing down.
"Yeah, I've heard of it," said Ricky. "It's been felling ships out here for twenty years."
"Why didn't you tell me about it earlier?" Kora shouted, tying a quick knot.
Ricky helped her pull it tight, and it cinched the sail back into its proper place.
"I thought it was a legend," said Ricky.
"Guess not," said Kora.
"A giant ship that takes over ships during SANDSTORMS. It sounded too insane to be true."
Now they stood abreast, looking at the ship across from them.
Kora was unsure how to fight the ship.
She could make out the cannons poking out the side of Miner's Danger. They weren't firing. The Ginger Star only had two cannons on either side. Kora realized that was their only play: to fire their cannons at Miner's Danger.
That was about when they heard the noise of a small motor in the distance, coming from behind them. And then another small motor, coming from the same direction.
One by one, they spun to face the noise.
But all they could see was the sand, shifting around incomprehensibly.
Until a small boat—one of those detachable rowboats—came plummeting from the sands, level with them, coming right at them. Then the second one appeared.
"What the hell?" was the last thing Ricky said when the man in the first rowboat fired his rifle. The bullet caught Ricky by the neck, throwing him into the air.
"Drop!" was all Kora had time to say.
Because in that same moment, a giant gust of wind hit them full in their faces. The wind threw Ricky's body off the ship. The sand was quick to swallow him.
The wind threw Kora and everyone else off their feet, snatched them right up into the air. Kora flew up twenty feet, and a crosswind threw her off the deck towards Miner's Danger.
Jeff got hit by some random bit of wind and got sucked down into the no man's land between the two ships, into the darkness. Out of sight. In seconds. Lost and gone.
Kora screamed, watching Jeff disappear.
Fear seized her, suddenly. The thought of being sucked into a dark void to never return. It sent chills through her whole body. She hadn't had a moment to react to Ricky's death.
And, in this moment, the two deaths gripped her mind. The moment stilled. She was high above both ships, in-between, body flat, arms and legs extended. Catching wind.
The bullet tearing through Ricky's neck replayed in her mind.
Jeff's final hoarse yell as he got sucked into nothingness.
It had happened so fast.
She wondered about the others.
A scream, laced with absolute abject terror, fear, and adrenaline, came from her throat, from her body, as she flew through the air like a lost umbrella.
Letting out the scream, the fear left, and she was herself again.
The initial horror gone as quickly as it had come.
That initial pump of major adrenaline, circulating.
But she didn't have time to think about it either.
Fight or flight?
Or flight?—Kora saw a rowboat passing her, about seven feet out. The man was looking away from her, taking shots at someone else—Scarlet or whoever. Kora couldn't see.
But she did have an idea.
Flight.
She pulled the grapple gun from her waist. The front of the rowboat was plated with steel. She aimed the archaic gun as the boat passed. Pulled the trigger.
The rope, fronted by a magnetic tip, launched from the gun, extended out through the sands, kept its course, even in the wind. The velocity was stunning.
The magnet tip missed the front of the boat by a hair.
But. It was magnetic.
The tip reversed course, latched onto the front of the boat, to the steel, with a loud clamp!
It rang out, even over the storm chaos.
Then the rope went taut and swung Kora in a wide arc until she was flying behind the rowboat. Fight or flight or flight and fight, she thought.
She held the grapple gun with all her strength as she careened behind the flying boat.
Kora clicked the button on the gun to reel in. She squeezed the trigger all the way, reeling in at full speed. They were flying directly over Miner's Danger.
The man piloting the rowboat, wearing a blue scarf around his mouth and wearing sunglasses, was half-turned. Turning around. Beginning to cock his arms and the gun into a position to shoot her.
But she reeled in too fast.
She'd taken out a knife from her thigh holster.
She flew right into him, plunging the knife through his chest. It was just the right length to go clean through him, front to back.
He involuntarily dropped the gun into the boat.
Kora removed the knife, dropped the bloody thing into the boat. Took off the man's glasses and donned them. Everything darkened a shade, but it was easier to see because sand wasn't hitting her in the eyes.
She threw his body from the boat, then assumed the pilot's position.