A wave smacked the skiff, jolting him. He steadied himself, pressing the rope hard against the hull until the rocking eased. Above him, the freighter’s deck stretched like a shadowy promise. He thought of the figure waving earlier, gone now, but maybe still there, waiting. “Here goes,” he whispered to himself, voice lost to the storm.
He tightened the rope, planted his boot against the slick metal, and began the climb. Each pull burned his muscles, the rain making every move a gamble. The rope strained, his hands ached, and water poured down his collar. Yet with each step upward, the sense of mystery pulled him harder than fear ever could.