The Charter

****TRIGGER WARNINGS: Drug use, death, thalassophobia****

This was Vaughn's 100th trip this season, and excluding him, there were six people on board The Lady of Shalott, a ship Vaughn named after his mother's favorite poem by Lord Tennyson, which Vaughn found a bit romantic and reckless.

The sky was cloudless and blue, and the sun was bright and hot. Vaughn didn't make much money on his own, but he secured contracts with a couple of major cruise lines to take cruise guests on deep-sea fishing expeditions.

Vaughn felt like he was selling himself out, thanks to his father all but disowning him, because all a real man needed was his vessel and the sea. But the money was good, and it paid the bills. His mother would have been proud.

Vaughn didn't really like having people on board, and it was a risk having these chartered excursions. Sometimes he wished he, too, could be locked in a tower by himself, not having to look upon society and see the horrors the world produces.

They had been sitting about fifteen miles offshore for the best part of an hour. Most of the passengers were fishing with no luck, while some soaked up the sun's warm rays. Small swells jostled the boat around, causing everyone to grab onto the railing. A lady looked a little green, and Vaughn thought she was going to throw up. The thought made him chuckle.

Sometimes the ocean was rough, especially if it was extremely windy or a storm was approaching, so Vaughn always advised his passengers to take seasickness medication an hour before boarding. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn't, and most often than not, whatever they took didn't work.

There was a stereo that allowed passengers to connect via Bluetooth, and it was currently playing, in Vaughn's opinion, an overplayed and overrated Jimmy Buffett song. Everyone on board happily sang along. Despite the choice of music, it had turned out to be the perfect day out on the ocean.

Vaughn offered a small lunch consisting of sandwiches, chips, and two bottles of water. Since this was a milestone excursion, he splurged a little and included a variety of cookies for the guests to enjoy. There was no alcohol served or allowed on board because Vaughn didn't want to go through the headache of getting a liquor license. He had once considered a BYOB kind of excursion, but after being sober for three years, Vaughn thought it was best he avoided alcohol on his ship altogether.

Vaughn grabbed a guy in a Hawaiian shirt, who he felt had too many flowers for a man to wear, to help bring up lunch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they noticed a pungent smell.

Two teenagers had managed to smuggle pot onboard, and if the Coast Guard decided to do an inspection, he would lose his charter license and contract with the cruise lines. Vaughn was so shocked and pissed that he didn't notice they dropped their still-lit joint into a bucket of oil-soaked rags, which then engulfed in flames.

It took 36 seconds for that fire to ignite the engine room.

The guy helped Vaughn haul the two kids back on deck and straight to their parents. He explained that everyone had to reel in their lines and that they were ending the excursion early. Two of the passengers were angry and said it was not fair because they had done nothing wrong, even though Vaughn explained that drugs were illegal and he would not risk losing his license over some junkie kids.

This did not sit well with their parents. Everyone started arguing with each other, and Vaughn walked back to the helm, so he could raise the anchor and head back ashore when someone screamed and pointed behind him.

Black smoke billowed into the sky from below deck. Vaughn grabbed a fire extinguisher and yelled for everyone to put on their life jackets. The guy in the Hawaiian shirt ran over after securing his family's jackets to help put out the fire.

Thick black smoke continued to curl out into the sky, and the passengers started to scream. He checked with the guy helping, but he said he couldn't reach the flames because the smoke was too dense. Vaughn couldn't remember whether he had the extinguishers checked by the local fire department or whether there were more than the minimum two on board.

Panick filled Vaughn, and his heart pounded in his chest, and sweat dripped down the bridge of his nose while he ran to the radio to call for help. He made the Mayday call and gathered everyone to the bow of the ship, the farthest he could get them away from the smoke and flames.

Vaughn watched a woman in a blue sarong and matching bikini top throw up over the side of the ship. Her hat blew off in the wind. A couple of kids were crying, and their dads were yelling at Vaughn to put out the fire. Seagulls squawked overhead, begging for the sandwiches that had been left unattended on deck. One brave gull tried diving for the exposed food, but a tendril of smoke scared it away, and it went back to cawing in the sky.

Another man had stepped up to help, and Vaughn gave him his fire extinguisher so he could get to his living quarters to grab a blanket to help douse the fire when the ship exploded.

Salt water burned Vaughn's throat as he gasped for air and broke the surface. He bobbed up and down in the waves like a corked fishing line waiting for a fish. The only sounds Vaughn could hear were the pulse in his head, ringing in his ears, and he couldn't open his eyes all the way.

Vaughn saw something floating on the surface of the ocean, and when he went to grab what he thought was a piece of his ship, it turned out to be the lady in the blue sarong. Most of her body was charred, and the smell made him vomit.

Someone's lifejacket bounced on top of the surface of the ocean, and Vaughn grabbed onto it. The air was choked with the smell of fuel and singed bodies, and it made him vomit again. He held on to that life preserver with everything he had until help arrived.