“And if we go in the wrong direction?” Rachel snaps.
“Do you have a better fucking plan?” Ace growls.
She doesn’t answer, just shrinks back into her seat.
“The wind is hitting hard from the east,” Zeke mutters. “We move in that direction.”
He jerks a finger at the vast open ocean. How he knows the direction, I don’t know, but I am glad he is at least making it sound like he knows what he’s doing. Kellen doesn’t wait. He starts knotting cords together, hauling the two boats as close as he can possibly get them. “If we’re lucky, the outer bands will shove us past before the worst fucking part. If not...” He doesn’t finish. He just gets busier.
“Well, that’s going to ruin dinner,” Adrian mumbles from his perch at the back of the boat. “At least there will be no mosquitos.”
Nobody answers him.
Nobody.
We gather everything we can into one bag, to keep close if we do go over. Then, we ensure we are all in a lifejacket and have some kind of rain cover. Then, we paddle. We paddle like our lives depend on it. Every time I look up, the sky is closer, bigger, meaner. The surface of the ocean looks flatter than ever, which makes it worse because that means the wind hasn’t arrived yet, but it’s coming.
Ace barks out orders. “Sit in the bottom, low as you can, back against the side. If you feel sick, puke overboard, not in the fucking boat. Anyone not paddling holds onto another person. If you get knocked out, someone else grabs your vest.” There’s something almost funny about the way he says it, as if he’sprepping us for a fire drill at school and not the literal possible end of our lives.
I look at Aggie, and she’s looking at me with wide eyes. “I’m scared,” she says, and that’s it, nothing clever or tough, just scared. I grab her hand. Mine is cold, even though the air feels wet-hot, like an animal breathing on us.
I try, but I can’t sit still. Every muscle in me wants to run but there’s nowhere to go, no studio, no mirrors, no floor. I try to stretch my calves but it does nothing to ease the anxiety building in my body. I want to say something to the group, some kind of speech, but what would I say? Sorry for getting us capsized? Sorry for not telling any of you so you had a chance to help?
Just keep paddling.
We take turns, sweating and cursing as we force the paddles through the endless ocean.
Are we even moving? Who knows.
The wind is picking up now, cold and threatening.
We paddle harder.
“Keep goin’,” Kellen roars. “We need to get further away.”
My hands sting with each stroke, blisters opening fast, raw skin against the cheap oars. Aggie relieves me after ten minutes, and we keep rotating like that for what feels like forever. We are moving away, the wind has changed direction, but the sea is rocking in a way that makes my stomach twist. If it gets much worse, there is no way we will keep these boats afloat.
“Keep going!” Ace is yelling over the wind. His face is wild, alive, a man who knows this is all that exists. The wind howls, the boat jerks, every second is a jolt through my spine. The ocean, always a black mirror, is turning white and rabid around us as the waves increase.
I look up, just for a second, and the clouds have eaten the sun. The storm is still too close. But there is nothing we can do except keep pushing until we get thrown over. Rachel startsreciting Hail Marys, the words garbled and slurred with salt, spit, and tears. I almost laugh, because it’s so stupid, so useless, but there’s something comforting about hearing it.
Tatiana is silent. She stares ahead, jaw locked, every muscle rigid as she moves the oar in perfect, mechanical rhythm. I realize, for the first time, that she might be the only one holding it together. Usually she crumbles but right now, she has one focus and one focus only: to get us as far away from this storm as possible.
Adrian is helping, thankfully, by tying a blanket to the boat to catch the wind and pull us further away. It’s genius, actually, and maybe he will come in handy after all. It does help, and it allows the rowing to become easier every time the wind catches the blanket; it jerks the boat further in the direction we need.
Is it enough, though?
The wind continues to pick up, and the boats slam together, strings of curse words flying from both Ace and Kellen as they try to keep us pointed straight. We are about to be swallowed up, and all I can think about is how quiet it is inside my own head, like some part of me knew this was coming.
The sky goes black. The first drops of rain hit, and we all know that we have outrun this as much as we will.
But still, we paddle.
Then all at once, the wind drops, a stillness so sudden I know it’s not real. The sky is a color I’ve never seen, a deep blue-green that makes my stomach twist. There’s a moment, just a single heartbeat, where it almost looks beautiful.
Almost.
Then, a large wave rocks us.
