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Back The Nest Save as PDF
Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright page
  3. Introduction by Will Errickson
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. TREMORS
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. SUSPICIONS
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. DREAD
  19. 1
  20. 2
  21. 3
  22. 4
  23. 5
  24. 6
  25. WITNESS
  26. 1
  27. 2
  28. 3
  29. ALERT
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. ENCOUNTER
  36. 1
  37. 2
  38. 3
  39. 4
  40. 5
  41. 6
  42. HAVOC
  43. 1
  44. 2
  45. 3
  46. 4
  47. 5
  48. 6
  49. SEARCH
  50. 1
  51. 2
  52. 3
  53. 4
  54. 5
  55. CLASH
  56. 1
  57. 2
  58. 3
  59. 4
  60. 5
  61. 6
  62. 7
  63. COUNTERATTACK
  64. 1
  65. 2
  66. 3
  67. 4
  68. 5
  69. 6
  70. 7
  71. VICTORY
  72. 1
  73. 2
  74. 3
  75. 4
  76. 5
  77. 6
  78. 7
  79. 8
  80. 9
  81. EPILOGUE
  82. About the Author

Elias Johnson, Amos Tarbell, Stephen Scott, Ben Dorset, Russell Homer knew all too well what had happened. They had been coming around Dickens Point on the Jessica when the smoke billowed up on High Ridge. Johnson drew every ounce of power out of his massive engines. The men saw the Tub at once and, through their glasses, clearly made out what was left of the beach as the tide swept almost to the dunes marking high water. The torn bodies and skeletal bones of the drowned were all too clearly visible. Sickened beyond ability to speak, the men on the Jessica did not have to ask what was responsible for the wholesale ravaging of the wreck’s victims.

They could not look at each other, could not trust themselves to speak. In the presence of so overwhelming a tragedy, each man withdrew into himself, soul-­shriveled.

Stephen Scott managed to whisper to Elias Johnson, wet-­eyed, “Ought we try to get them off?”

The old man stood as if deaf. In all his years at sea he had faced nothing as horrible as this carnage. He had watched grim-­faced as sharks had amputated men’s limbs. He had lost friends overboard to beating storms. He had had to bring the sorrowful messages of lost husbands and fathers and sons to weeping widows and puzzled children. It had been harrowing and painful, but within his comprehension. This scene of obscene insect debauchery—he could call it nothing else—emptied him of all spirit.

But he was the captain of this craft, and he was in charge. The decision was his and he made it without hesitation. “No!” he told Stephen Scott. “For God’s sake, let it be!”

“But—” The selectman made a gesture of pleading toward the shore. Even the pitiful remains deserved whatever decent Christian burial could be arranged.

Johnson read his thought and shook his head sorrowfully. “Stephen, by the time we tried to get in there, the tide will have the whole beach.” His voice broke. “But I wouldn’t bring them home even if we could!” The old man’s eyes were wet as he watched the waves scour the shore, lifting more of the broken bodies out to sea each time. “I take it as a blessing.” Let Nature cleanse what Nature had fouled.