20. Mayday
Chapter 20
Mayday
Calvin
T he emergency power is on, but I had to rig it to get it going. It’s powering only a few of the systems at that, and the intercom to the bridge isn’t working. The last thing the captain used it for was to order all of us to the life rafts. Fucking hell. I sent my guys up to the raft already, but I had one more thing I wanted to do. It didn’t work, but I had to try.
I fight my way through the crew mess. Plates and tins lie scattered and broken about the floor. I run up the back stairs to the bridge. The power’s gone dead to all the vital systems, including the radio and positioning beacon. Captain’s working on it on the bridge. But when I get there, the door from the hallway is flapping open. Sam is under the control panel, his damn dog on his feet.
“Captain, I couldn’t get it running.”
“I haven’t got shit here either.” He ducks his head out to me for a second.
“Let’s go.” I give him the look my father used to give me.
“No. Get in the boats. We’re not sinking too fast. I’m going to get the beacon going at least. There’s too much ocean for a rescue party to cover. We’re not due into port for a week. Take Penny and go!”
“Fuck.” I rake my hand over my face. But he’s right. Without that beacon, we’re all dead. This isn’t a shipping lane. No one’s going to find our little rafts floating in the ocean.
I grab the dog, throw her over my shoulder. She’s not having it; she wants Sam. My legs are long and my strides sure. Working on cargo ships for years has taught me how to walk through some tough rolling water. I race to the rafts in the aft.
“What the fuck?” I say into the wind. The tender’s in the ocean being tossed around. One raft is away; the other is still tied to the rail.
I pull the dog down from my shoulder and try to pass her to the owner’s son, the swimmer, whatever the fuck his name is. But the dog kicks out her hind legs and takes off for the open bridge door.
“Damn, she’s a stubborn dog. She would never want to leave the captain, anyway.” I’m not risking my life for her twice. “Everyone accounted for?” I say to Zane. He’s lashing down a supply bin and sun cover in the raft.
“Haley went back in to look for Dante. I tried to stop her.”
Fucking hell. I’m running—well, more staggering—up the stairs to the kitchen. I don’t blame Zane for not going after her. He couldn’t leave a passenger alone in the raft.
Haley’s already in the main salon. She’s dragging Dante by the armpits, kitchen towels draped over his head. “Calvin, help me.”
I grab Dante by the waist and throw him over my shoulder. “Is he dead?”
“No.”
I can barely hear her. The wind howls. She stumbles into the wall, but I grab her with my free arm.
“You good?” I hold her blue eyes for a moment.
She nods. I’m hoping I can look back on this as the most ridiculous thing I ever said to anyone. I hope to hell I’m not carrying a dead man. We’re swaying more and more. Rock Candy is taking on water, but we’re still floating. It’s hard to tell what’s going to happen— Rock Candy might still be afloat in the morning, or a wave could have her on her side. Captain made the right call.
“Can you catch this one, Swimmer Boy?”
“I’m ready.”
Haley helps me, and we pass Dante to them. They lay the unconscious man onto the raft floor.
“Haley, get in,” Zane says, reaching for her.
“Not without Captain.” She takes off running, and damn, she’s fast. She scurries up the outside steps, holding on to the rope.
I don’t catch her before she wrenches open the side door. And then Captain Sam is there. He’s saying something to her, but it’s lost in the wind. “Go,” he shouts.
She shakes her head. “No.”
He glares at her and kisses her cheek. “Don’t let this one come back,” he says to me. “Keep her safe.”
“Yes.” The storm rages in my ears.
Captain pulls the door closed. He must have locked it, because Haley is yanking on it with all her might. She’s screaming and furious. Her fists are clenched around the handle as she pulls.
“Haley, we need to go,” I yell into her ear.
The boat lists, and she sways, her feet lifting off the deck. I grab her around her waist and hoist her over my shoulder. She’s wailing, her fists slapping at my back.
But I’m off, pulling away from the wheelhouse, leaving the captain to his doom. To our doom. I want to be positive and say he’s going to make the beacon work, but it’s a long shot.
I’ve turned and am making my way back to the aft. Haley stops struggling. She’s limper than Dante, but I can feel her chest heaving. And the water on my shoulder isn’t sea spray.
“Put me down, Calvin.” The way she says it, I know she won’t run, and the stairs are safer with two hands on the railing.
I ease her to the ground. “Let me go first.” If she falls, I can catch us both. The stairs are a lot steeper than normal.
The life raft is waiting. Swimmer Boy is doing something to Dante. We need to get out of here, launch the raft. If the boat tips while we’re still tethered, it won’t end well. The other raft is away, its reflective lights showing when it tips toward swells. But the tender, I can’t see. I’m holding on to the side of Haley’s lifejacket. If she slides and I can’t stop it, we’re going together.
But Zane is standing on the rail of the boat. “Come on, Haley. Get in,” he shouts into the wind, beckoning to her. This time she takes his hand, and he helps her into the raft. The sea is really churning. The raft and boat slam together before moving apart.
She climbs in and immediately slides over to Dante. I’ve been through some shit in my time on the ocean: pirates twice, a dumb fuck captain who ran us onto a sandbar and had us stuck for a week while news helicopters circled. But this? I’m a positive guy, and when we get out of this... I’m going to find a nice girl and become a landlubber.
I step into the raft and turn to give Zane a hand, but he’s gone. A second later, he tosses a load of three beach towels into the raft, a half dozen bottles of water, and two cushions from the back deck.
“Get in the damn raft, Zane,” I growl.
He’s already untied us and slides off the deck into the raft.
I glare at the cushions. But the raft’s designed for nine and there’s only five of us. It won’t hurt the weight.
Haley is helping Swimmer Boy do something. That’s when I see she’s not clipped in. “Hale—” I’m about to read her the riot act for not attaching herself to the raft.
“What?” She turns. She’s holding a bloody towel to Dante’s head. I reach around her to clip her into the raft. There are ropes on the bottom of the raft to tuck your feet under and ropes on the side. Using those is actually safer; if the raft flips, you aren’t trapped under it. But it’s only safer if you’re paying attention, which she isn’t. The heavy-duty plastic carabiner clicks into the side of her life vest. She can take it off if she wants to. I’m not some prick who will tell her what she has to do.
Zane is attaching the cover to the side wall across from me. The sides and bottom of the raft are triple-lined inflated plastic. The floor has ropes and clip-in rings to keep us from sliding around. And the sidewalls have clips for the roof to hook into and a rope for us to hold on to. There’s a hand pump in the kit to top it off as needed, along with other supplies.
“Zane, let’s paddle to the other raft. Then we can put the sides up.” Water sloshes in on rogue waves, but not enough to sink us. We need to get on our way before we lose the other raft. There’s safety in numbers.
“We’re not going to catch them. The currents are pulling in different directions already. But we can try.”
I could order him to do it. As the lead engineer, I’m third in command on board the Rock Candy and the highest ranking on the raft.
“We need to get to my sister. I’ll help paddle.” Swimmer Boy takes the plastic paddle from Zane’s hands.
“We also need to conserve our strength, Easton.” Zane looks at me.
“For what? They’ll send help to us. We’ll be out here... what, a day at most? But if we get separated from the other raft, that’s going to cause problems.” Easton leans over the edge and starts paddling. He’s got the gist, but not quite.
Zane reaches over and clips the paddle to his wrist.
“Thanks.”
“We’ll try for a while.” I put my paddle in and pull. It’s hard. Rafts aren’t meant to be paddled. Steering is possible, but paddling is rough. It’s work—you have to really lean in and pull. I’m not a weakling. My football days, and working on the cargo ship, left me with muscles. But working on engines that are now more computer than mechanical has left me not as built.
Zane taps me on my shoulder. “Let me take a turn, then you can spell Easton.”
“Give him a break first.”
“That’s what he said. Just hand over the paddle. This isn’t a He-Man competition.” Zane puts his hand out.
“Fine.” I give him the paddle. We’re not making any progress on catching the other raft. The Rock Candy is still behind us. She’s listing more violently, but she’s above water. We’ve got another half hour of dusky light. From the plastic toolbox, I take out the flashlight and signal the other raft with short on and off until I get a response from their light.
I start with my Morse code, which I’m praying one of the deckhands is good enough to understand because I have zero faith in my second and third engineer. It’s gone over in the classes to get your certifications for deckhand, but it’s no longer on the test. I’m just hoping someone over there knows more than SOS. Because we’re both in the same shit situation already. I’m a pro at Morse code, though. I loved it as a kid. Also, after the first pirate attack on the cargo ship, I decided I was going to be the best at everything to do with my job.
I signal five on the raft. A simple first message to see if they get it.
Easton turns to me. “What are you doing?”
“Morse code.”
“Ask them if my sister is okay,” he asks, like I’m just going to pick up my useless phone.
“I need to make sure they understand me first.” I wait, watching their raft. They are going in and out of view as we catch waves.
Their light flashes. It’s hard to get all of it. Long-long-short. “G,” I say. Long-long-long. “O. Shit.” A wave has them obscured, but I catch the next letter. “D.”
“They spelled out god?” Easton’s still paddling but looking at me.
“I’m guessing good.” They signal again. “E, L, E, V, E, N,” I call out.
“Eleven? Waldo and my three other deckhands, Shayla, two engineers, Emily, and Brick. That’s who I saw in the raft. That’s nine.”
“Anders, Rock, and Candy were in the tender. Before I left to find Dante.” Haley tries to hand me a bottle of water, but I don’t take it. It’s one from the deck, not from the emergency stores in the raft kit. We won’t touch those until tomorrow.