Eric Stone jerked awake with a gasp. Blearily he put the back of his palm to his forehead and glared when it came away damp with sweat.
He groaned, noting the numbers displayed on the digital clock on his nightstand. 3:23 a.m. Way too early to be up. But after a nightmare like that Eric knew sleep would not come easily.
He grumbled, but decided the best course of action was to go up on deck and let the cool ocean breezes calm his mind.
It had been a week since the dreams started, right when Juan had given the entire crew some down time after their latest escapade.
Julia Huxley started fretting after the third day Eric had shown up to breakfast looking like he’d gone through the ringer,
but Eric waved her off with mentions of cruise ships and dead passengers. She highly encouraged him to visit one of the ship’s psychologists but thankfully hadn’t brought up the issue again.
He had caught glimpses of her staring at him during meals and knew it was only a matter of time before she showed up at his door in her professional capacity or worse,
told Juan or Max about it and let them handle it.
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