The green digital numbers in the wheelhouse flipped.
06:59:59 AM clicked into 07:00:00 AM.
The blunt iron bow of harbor tugboat Marrow-09 bumped against the wet timber pilings of Pier 14. Old timber fenders groaned under the weight. Cold spray misted across the deck, smelling of diesel exhaust, salt brine, and creosote.
Julian Vance stood by the port rail. His fingers throbbed in the damp chill.
Raw salt blisters covered his knuckles on both hands from hauling mooring lines off St. Dymphna’s Island, but he kept a tight grip on his insulated lineman’s satchel.
Inside the heavy bag, the brass jaws of the 380 degrees F Master Heat-Lamination Seal hummed against his hip. Its thermal core pushed a steady warmth through the padded canvas.
Thirty miles out in the bay, black water rolled over the sunken ruins of St. Dymphna’s Sanatorium and Blackwater Rig #12. The offshore Clause-Pulp refinery was gone.
After seven brutal shifts, the long nightmare on the water was supposed to be finished.
