The wind increased more and more during the day. Hank shivered from the cold as soon as he left the fire room, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he was glad he had his ugly wine-red coat. Every time he took a step out on deck the icy wind whined in his funnel making a painful, bright white, lightning strike at the backside of his left eyeball. Holding a hand over the opening helped, but he most often forgot to do it before it was too late.
Steel was twirling around the deck, laughing as the wind tore at his hair. More than once Hank caught him standing with his arms spread wide, facing the wind.
“Hank, come help me.” Steel had to grab his hat to keep it from blowing off.
“What do you need?” The icy wind once again found its way into his brain, piercing it with icicles.
“Captain. An
