"Okay, this may sound self centered, but I think you're better off than I am right now," Olivia panted, kicking the door shut behind her. James turned his head, fixing her with a bleary-eyed gaze from where he laid on the bed, his splint clad leg elevated on a stack of pillows.

His face looked like hell, all battered and bruised from colliding with the mast on his way down. The swelling in his left eyes was going down, though, and now that he wasn't bleeding anymore, he looked better.

Olivia herself was drenched in so much sweat she was sure she'd lost about several pounds in water, yet her body felt heavier than it ever had before.

James turned his face back to the ceiling. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah." She threw the cabinet open, not even bothering to take the towel out of the cupboard before burying her face in it. Her voice came out muffled when she added, "Fergie and Heath are duking it out right now. I got away while I still could."

"Smart," James mumbled.

Olivia's skin itched against her clothes. She felt like throwing up. "I think I'm gonna have a heat stroke or something." Stripping off her bandanna and shoes, she added under her breath, "A Heath stroke more like."

"She's working you hard, huh?"

"You don't even know."

That was when she fell on top of him.

At first, Olivia thought her knees had just given out, then she realized the ship was lurching, rapidly convulsing from side to side. James groaned in pain when she landed on his leg.

"Sorry!" She tried to stand back up, but was knocked to the floor by more turbulence. All she could do was grasp the groove in the floorboard and do her best not to be sick.

James cried out again when the ship pitched to the left, sending him flying to the ground.

"James!" She called out. Before she could move toward him, the cupboard was being flung toward her, its wooden doors reaching out to cover her face. The force of the furniture colliding with her back sent a rampant series of screams hurtling out of Olivia's throat.

This time, it was James who called out. "Liv? Are you o--" He was cut off by the next convulsion, which knocked Olivia's forehead into the leg of the bed. She could feel the bandage coming off. God, I'm not bleeding again, am I?

She could see James' bad leg from behind the bed. Grabbing on to the tilting floor, she scooted around the bed. But the next lurch was so powerful that the bed dropped clear off the floor, taking Olivia and James with it.

Her last thought before the world went dark was, Maybe Heath's gotten thrown overboard by now.