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I move to the far edge as Enzo drapes Beckett’s body over the buoy. Then I put my arm over Beckett, to help hold him to the buoy. Enzo starts swimming hard, and I kick as best I can as we swim full-on toward the yacht in the distance.
“Hold on, Beckett. Just a little longer,” I whisper to him over and over. If not for me, then for Enzo. He needs him to live. He can’t have anyone else sacrifice for him. He can’t lose anyone else because they put his life over theirs.
Beckett’s eyes finally open through the swelling and redness.
“We got you, just hold on,” I say.
He blinks but doesn’t say anything. But he’s alive; he’s breathing, that’s all that matters.
I’ve never seen Enzo swim so hard in his life. He looks like a dolphin in the water; nothing will slow him down. Not the waves, muscle fatigue, or exhaustion. Beckett is complete dead weight, and I’m barely kicking. Enzo is doing all of the work. And he’s doing it better than if we were all healthy and swimming along next to him.
Enzo has always been at home in the water, the same as me. But it isn’t until now that I realize just how at home he is. How much the only time the universe is on our side is when we are both on the water.
Enzo kicks it into another gear. He doesn’t look back at us. He doesn’t try to talk to me. He just swims with every ounce of energy he has.
And somehow we make it to the yacht with Beckett still alive. If anything, Beckett seems more alert now than he was before.
Enzo grabs onto the ladder at the back of the yacht. He’s panting hard, exhaling oxygen as he sucks it in.
I realize Enzo is too out of breath to talk.
“You lift Beckett, and I’ll push,” I say.
Enzo nods, grabbing Beckett under the arms, while I use what strength I have to push. Enzo ends up doing most of the work as he pulls Beckett up onto the yacht. I climb up the ladder afterward.
When I hit the deck, the sight scares me a little. Both Enzo and Beckett are spread out on the floor. Both breathing heavily like they just finished a marathon. And I don’t know what to do to help either of them.
“Get…us…out…” Enzo says between heavy pants looking up at me.
Enzo didn’t finish his words, but I know what he wants. For me to get us the hell out of here. We can’t handle an attack right now.
I glance down at Beckett, who is bleeding heavily from somewhere out onto the deck. And Enzo looks more beat up and in pain than I realized in the water. I want to help them. But I can’t help them until I get us away, somewhere safe.
“Go,” Enzo says between more strained breathing.
I close my eyes trying to gather strength to leave, and hoping that when I return, Beckett will still be alive. Because I can’t watch the heartbreak Enzo will go through thinking he wasn’t enough to save Beckett.
I run, even though I’m physically exhausted. I grip my stomach, praying I’m not doing anything to hurt my babies. But all I can remember is my OBGYN saying exercise is good for the babies. So running can’t be bad.
I make it to the bridge, trying my best to not think about the fact that Felix or his men could already be on this ship. This could all be a trap. Another explosion could go off and ring through all of us, destroying all of the work we did to stay alive.
But there is nothing I can do about that. If Felix is here, then we are all dead. But if he is out there, in the water or still in town, then I still have time to do something. I can get us out of here, help us disappear.
I stand, looking at all the controls. I’ve watched Enzo and others drive the yachts we’ve been on before, but why did I never ask to be taught how to work one?
I close my eyes, trying to remember the last image of Enzo driving a yacht. I try to remember his motions.
Press the button to bring the anchor up. It was over on the right. I look to the right, try a button, and hear the anchor going up.
“Okay, I got this,” I say to myself.
Now, I need to turn on the engines. I stare at the panel. It takes me three tries before I get it right.
Power—that one’s easier. I push on the lever. And we are moving.
I exhale, thank god.
I speed up, knowing we need to get as far away from here as fast as possible.
