21. S O S
Chapter 21
S O S
Easton
M y arms are on fire. It feels worse than a marathon training session. I pull as much water on the paddle as I can get, but the ocean doesn’t want us to make any progress. The other raft is flashing now. The raft that has two more people in it than it’s supposed to. It’s horrible, but I don’t care if my dad’s in the raft or not. As long as Emily is. She’s got to be okay. “Can you ask them—” I stop when the flashing from the other raft returns.
Calvin calls out, “C, A, N, D, Y.” The light stops. “It’s got to be Anders doing the Morse code.”
Zane doesn’t stop paddling, so I don’t either.
“L, O, S, T.”
“What?” I keep paddling. A light hand lands on my leg and gives me a squeeze.
“Let me take a turn.” Haley’s palm is open and up at me.
But I can’t give it to her. The burning in my arms is helping me process. I turn around. “Lost as in missing?”
Calvin flashes the light, and I wish I’d taken the boy scout unit on Morse Code more seriously. Long-short-short. Is that a D or a G? I don’t remember. I stop watching.
The other raft replies.
“I’m sorry, Easton. It says Candy’s dead.”
I nod. Damn, I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s horrible, but so was she. The whole absurdity of this situation is crazy. Am I heartless because I feel nothing for the loss of her life? She was tricking my dad into marrying her, but still. I take a breath in. This is a stressful time, and there is no way my emotions are going to match what’s going on around me.
“Let me paddle.” Haley takes the paddle from me, and I let her. I check on the chef. He’s breathing. I have a degree in sports medicine. I know more about concussions, torn tendons, and how to rehab, but I’ve bandaged him up the best I could. Hopefully, his brain doesn’t swell. I take my phone out of my pocket. I use the flashlight feature to check his pupils. They’re not dilated, and his heartrate is fine. He’s cold. I pull some towels around him.
“Is he okay?” Calvin is pointing the light back at the boat, one tiny prick of light out in the night in that direction.
“The towels should help.” But the sea spray is getting worse. There’s a bailing bucket attached to the toolkit. I take it and get to work. There’s not much water getting in, but there’s some. And with each larger wave we ride, we get more.
Calvin stops flashing at the tiny speck of light behind us. “We’re not making any progress. Catching them.” He flashes a long sequence at the other raft. “They’re paddling to us too.” Calvin puts the lamp down.
“Fuck.” Zane stops paddling, and Haley does too. “What do you want to do?”
They all seem to act like Calvin is in charge. “We’re not making any headway. It’s getting dark. And it’s going to be a lot harder to get the top up in the pitch black. With the storm kicking up, we’re going to get rain soon, and then we’re going to be bailing all night.”
“So call the paddling off?” I look at Calvin.
“Yes.” Calvin looks away from me. “I think we need to put the sun enclosure up and call it a night.”
I stare at the other raft. They’re tiny specks on the water, a mile or more away. Fuck, I hate the ocean. But if Candy is dead, my dad’s going to lose it for sure.
A hand lands on my leg. “You’re not thinking of swimming to them, are you?” Haley’s blue eyes are dark, reminding me of how dark it is right now. Maybe if I’d jumped sooner... but pool swimming and ocean swimming are completely different.
“No.” I totally was. “What can I do to help?”
Calvin unrolls a large plastic covering. “Move next to Zane.”
Haley comes to me. We stretch the covering over the top of the chef while sitting in the windows. Zane zips one side and passes the zipper to Haley. Calvin does the same to me. Then we crawl inside, and Zane uses a small hand pump to blow up supports on both sides. A heavy Velcro seals the top to the raft, and we zip the windows shut.
It’s warm in the raft. But with no more water flopping in, we all bail out the areas around where we are sitting. It’s nowhere near dry, but it’s not too bad.
“If anyone has anything they don’t want to lose, I’ll put it in the sack the tube was in and clip it in.” Calvin passes the bag around. He starts the bag by putting in his hat. Zane puts nothing in it. I take off my shoes; I’d put them on when I heard the alarm. I was asleep, and it was a force of habit. All the years living in boarding schools with pulled fire alarms. I never wanted to be waiting in the snow in slippers or bare feet. I add the running shoes and pass it to Haley.
“I have nothing. I think I’m going to keep my shoes on. I just wish I had a hair tie.”
“Oh, I don’t have a hair tie, but what about a bandana?” I pull my bandana out. It’s purple and green and has the company logo on it.
“What, are you in a gang?” Calvin is fiddling with the equipment box.
“No.” I manage a laugh. “Rockwell Harding gives them out at events. I stuffed it in my pocket last night. I was going to show Emily the design. She drew it. But then, well...” I don’t need to talk about what happened at dinner. Now that Candy’s gone, I suppose I never need to tell Dad about what she was doing. But that’s up to Emily. “You can have it, Haley. I’m pretty sure you deserve more for saving my life.”
“Of course. How could I not have come back for you?”
I laugh. She’s so pure at heart. “I hate to say it, but most of the people I know wouldn’t have rushed back onto a sinking boat for someone, let alone gone twice. You’re a hero—all of you are heroes.” I can’t see their faces, but I’m pretty sure Calvin growls and Zane scoffs. Interesting. None of them enjoyed being called heroes.
“Oh, that’s so much better. Having my wet hair off my face and neck. Thank you.” She leans over and goes for a kiss on what I assume she thinks is my cheek but hits my lips. It’s a quick smack, but it sends chills through my body.
Raindrops hit the top canvas slowly, and then they build. The wind pulses at us, tossing us more than before. Or maybe it’s the darkness. With the top up, I can just make out bodies around me: Haley is on one side of me, Zane is next to her, and Calvin across from me. Dante’s head is next to me.
“I’m going to turn my phone light on for a second to check on the chef,” I say.
“Good idea,” says Calvin. “I’ll take the first watch. Someone should be awake at all times in case we hear a plane or a boat. We can pass off the signal gun.”
I want to dislike Calvin and his “I’m in charge” attitude, but someone needs to be in charge. And he was right about the paddling: we never got an inch closer to the other raft.
The light of my iPhone shows Dante’s chest moving up and down. The rest of the crew members move in from the edge of the raft to watch.
“Are you a doctor?” Zane’s leaning over Dante’s side to see.
“No. I majored in sports medicine. I thought I might become a physical therapist.” Here’s where the questions usually start coming about why I would want to do PT when my dad is a billionaire. But thankfully they don’t. I check his pupils and they’re still good. His pulse is fine. “I wish there was something I could do for him.” Haley’s close to my side.
“We have to wait,” Calvin says. “I’m sure the rescuers will help him.”
I catch Calvin’s expression before I turn the light off. The big guy doesn’t think we’re going to be rescued. I take a deep breath.
“All right, settle in,” says Calvin. “I’ll wake Zane in a few hours, and we can take turns.”
Curling up, I try to close my mind off from the reality of what’s going on. The guy in charge doesn’t believe we are going to be rescued.
R ose-colored light shines through the top of the plastic cover when I wake up. But something is holding down my chest. A certain brown-haired beauty is using it as a pillow. I don’t want to move. Cocking my head, I see Calvin giving me a death stare. I shrug. I didn’t pull her onto my chest. But I’m sure as hell not going to make her leave.
The raft is heating up, but the ocean feels silent.
Zane moves near my feet. “I’m going to put down the window.”
In a hushed tone, I ask, “Any sign of the boat or the other raft?”
“No,” Zane fires back. “They were both gone before first light.”
That’s what I expected, but my positivity coach would tell me to visualize the other raft.
The window on one side is zipped up. It’s a clear vinyl covering that keeps the water out.
“You could have woken me for a shift,” I say.
“You were doing something.” Calvin doesn’t look up from the supply box.
“I should take a turn.” Haley is really out. We’re all talking at a normal level, but she hasn’t moved.
“Yeah, well, you needed sleep, and I don’t sleep well, anyway,” Calvin grunts.
“So true.” Zane fiddles with the other window.
“How’s Dante?” I can see his chest rising and falling.
“The same,” Zane answers. “I didn’t lift his eyelids like you did, because I have no idea what you were doing.”
“I was checking to see if his pupils were dilated. But just leave him alone at this point.”
“Shouldn’t we be waking him up if he has a concussion?” Zane cocks his head at me.
“Ideally, but I haven’t been able to wake him. And if he wakes up now and is confused and disoriented—what can we do? Nothing really. He’s breathing. It’s not like I can drill a hole in his skull and release the pressure.” If I’d stayed in the program, I would have done a hospital round. Maybe then I’d be more help.
“Ew.” Zane scrunches up his nose.
“His brain is probably swelling, numbnut.” Calvin’s thick fingers tie a knot at the end of the line he’s fiddling with.
I glance down at Haley’s sleeping frame. Dante has two of the towels covering him, but someone has taken the other and covered Haley. Makes sense—she has the least amount of clothes on, other than her jacket under her life vest.
“Good. I want to try fishing.” Calvin is rummaging in the supply box. He pulls out the smallest reel I’ve ever seen. Fishing is something I know how to do. My dad is a fanatic, and it’s one reason he was willing to let wife number two move us to Florida.
I lean up on my elbows. Haley snuggles lower on my belly, grabbing me around my waist. She’s inches away from my hardening cock, but I’m not complaining. It’s the only good thing that has happened to me since I stepped on the plane in L.A.
Calvin throws the line into the water, and we wait. That’s the thing with fishing: it’s like meditation except for when it’s not. The line goes almost immediately taut. He’s caught something.
“Pull it in,” Zane yells.
“Wow, you’ve caught something.” I sit up farther, trying to get a better angle of the window, when I realize Haley is moving. She gives me a squeeze, the flap of her life vest covering her head. I don’t know how she’s sleeping. The heat is rising, and I’m already sweating. She’s sliding lower and lower, no doubt to avoid the plastic on my chest. Damn. I’m not sure I’ve ever had morning wood this hard. And we’re fighting for our lives drifting in the middle of the ocean.
“You got it,” Zane yells.
Haley jumps up. The sleepiness on her face vanishes.