It was close to sunset. The sun casted an orange, pink color across the sky. I stood on the bridge of the ship with Natasha as we worked the controls to the ship. "My estimate for our arrival to America is about three days," Natasha said. I stood at the map table, looking at the long route ahead of us. "There are U-boats everywhere around the Atlantic. What are we supposed to do if we are attacked? We have no torpedoes," I said. "But we do have the element of disguise. To U-boats, we are another one of Germany's ships. They are not going to torpedo their own ship." Natasha said. I nodded in approval of her plan. We would go to America, disguised as a German ship. "Wait," I said, "Wouldn't the Americans see a German battleship off the coast of their country and attack," I said. "I also have a plan for that," she said, "we will use the white tablecloth in the captain's quarters as a signal for truce or ceasefire." "That could work," I said, "all we must do now is avoid as much people as possible." Little did we know, something lurked beneath the water three miles away from us, and our disguise was useless against it.
It was now close to midnight. There were no clouds that night. For miles, there was only water, with the moon's haunting glow, illuminating the water as far as the eye can see. I stood on the bridge looking out to the water. There was no movement except the waves, crashing into the side of the ship. As I stood on the bridge I thought, "should I tell wat my identity is. If she found out my last name, it would be certain that I would die." I looked out, nervously, across the ocean. I looked back at Natasha, who laid on the bridge floor sleeping. I looked back to the dark, ocean where something splashed in the water. It was probably a dolphin or some large animal. Then I saw something slowly ascend from the water. It was a small, pipe like structure that stuck out from the flat ocean.
"Natasha," I whispered. She slowly started to open her eyes. "This better be important, kid," she said. "There is some small pipe sticking up from the ocean. I saw it rise from the ocean," I said. She immediately jumped up from the steel floor. She ran over to the window of the bridge, looking across the ocean, nervously. "Where the hell is it," she said. "I don't know. It was right over there," I said. Yet I looked to where I saw the unknown structure, but nothing was there. "Is this some joke," Natasha exclaimed, "did you do this just to be an annoying little ass." As she raised her fist for a punch, the wall exploded with sharp pieces of metal flying at us. As the dust cleared, the ship began to violently shake, and the sound of the crashing waves started to become louder. I looked into the dark hallway. Natasha was nowhere on the bridge, the only thing that lit the dark hallway was the dim, red emergency light. Suddenly, the steel walls started to make a horrible, loud squeaking sound. Without warning the metal wall broke and with that, tons of water rapidly rushed into the bridge.
I was immediately swept up in the wall of water rushing towards me. I flipped and twisted as the waves violently spun me around. My back hit a metal pipe. I screamed in agony only to have the saltwater of the Atlantic Ocean fill my lungs. I swam up to the surface. I poked my head up from the water. The room was almost full of water. I breathed heavily. I was going to die here. After surviving an invasion, shooting, and hostage situation I was going to die from drowning.
It was best for me to just give up. Death was inevitable. It was going to happen. I started to slowly let go of the pipe that held me up. I began to sink into the dark water. I let the water fill my lungs as I drifted in the dark sea. I floated in the water not moving. I felt like I was dead, just it is taking a while for my brain to realize it too. Then I felt something grab my hand. I soon began moving while something pulled me along with it. I opened my eyes. The figure that pulled me wads blurry, but I knew immediately what it was. The figure then pulled me out of the water on to a small raft. I began to cough up water, violently. I groaned in pain. My muscles were weak and could barely support my own weight. I looked up at my savior. "Natasha," I groaned. "You may rest now," Natasha replied. My vision slowly became darker until all there was, was absolute darkness.
I laid on the raft. I slowly opened my eyes. The sunlight blinded me from my surroundings. As I started to stand up, I realized we were not in the water anymore. I struggled to get up. My back and arms ached. It came back to me what had happened. The explosion, the ship, Natasha! I looked around desperately. I was on a beach. The only sound around me was the waves, crashing onto the shore. There was nothing but water and sand for miles. Natasha was gone and I was entirely alone.
I walked down the beach that seemed to never end. Only sand and dirt for miles. I laid on the raft while the sun beat down on my bruised body. "Where was I, what happened, is Natasha alive," I told myself numerous times. I slowly got up. I began to rummage through the raft searching for anything useful. There were no weapons, but there was a small canteen of water. I quickly unscrewed the cap, flinging it into the sand as I chugged the refreshing liquid down my throat. The sun began to set. I laid on the raft. I still had a little bit of water, but not enough to last four more days. As the night began, I laid on the raft gazing at a myriad of stars. I could not believe what had happened in the few days since the invasion. Without warning, a blood curling scream ripped through the air.
I jumped at the sound of the shriek that tore through the starry night sky. It wasn't far from here. It sounded like it came west of me. Immediately, I started to run towards the sound. As I ran, the sounds started to become louder. A bright light shone right in front of me. I began to creep towards the illumination. A village was positioned right in front of me. Only one person was outside next to a giant fire that lit up the dark sky. There were seven small huts that were situated in a circular pattern that surrounded the fire. I laid in the sand, observing the primal village. It was implausible to me that the village was able to survive and have water and food sources in the desert. There were no trees around. All there was in the area was a sea of sand.
I did not dare venture to go to the village. They had food and water, but where did it come from? I needed supplies, but was it worth risking my life? These questions I asked myself repeatedly. It was better to go to the raft. There was still a bit of rations and water at the raft. I started to get up from the sand. But as if at the most opportune time, the scream ripped through the air, followed by the words, "get your hands off me," in perfect Russian.
As soon as Natasha screamed, I was on my feet running towards the rebel. Was it absolutely arrogant of me, yes. Was it for love, maybe. Would I face consequences, absolutely. As soon as I ran, the arrows and spears sped past my head. I clashed with two of the antediluvian men. A punch to the face, a kick into the rib. Pain shot up my body. I had felt agony before, but not as much as I felt now. I fell to the ground, covering my head as the men kicked at me. I thought I was going to die. Just as the men's kicks turned to punches, a horn sounded throughout the desert. The men began to stop punching. I could feel as my hands were bound behind my back. I was forcefully lifted off the ground. The men dragged me along into a wooden hut where a man waited inside.
The man wore a long fur coat, with some sort of ornate, primal necklace. The man did not speak, he simply stared. Through my experience, I came to not fear death, but to accept it as the next chapter of my life. The man finally said something, but it was in his native language. For some reason, I was disappointed he didn't just start talking Russian. How stupid of me to think a man in the middle of a hot, sandy desert, would start speaking Russian. The man gave a swift nod and the two, armed men began to drag me to what would most likely be my death.
I struggled against the tight rope wrapped around my wrists as I was dragged towards certain death. I could barely see through the sack on my head. The blue sky turned dark as we entered a room. Forcefully, I was thrown onto the sand floor. A door slammed behind me while I laid on the ground, limply. I struggled to get the sack off my body ached, my legs and hands were bounded, and I'm pretty sure I am not alone in this room.
"Alexei?" That voice, my body and head ached but I could still find the familiarity in the voice. "Natasha," I replied. "Don't sit up," Natasha said, "you're bleeding from your chest." She untied the rope and took the sack off my head. "Why did you leave," I asked. "You wouldn't understand," she said. "What wouldn't I understand?" "You don't know anything about me, I am a danger to you," Natasha said. "We have been through so much together, secrets are not useful to our survival," I said. "Why do you think the Nazis were trying to ship us all the way to Germany, why do you think the Nazis specifically sent a specialized platoon to invade Volkhov," Natasha said, "it was because of me. My name is not Natasha Maven, my name is Alliluyeva Stalina."