13 #2
I watch Adrian with a kind of morbid curiosity—he’s standing there in cutoff shorts, bandaged leg stump, homemade crutch and a blood-spattered t-shirt, holding what I guess could look like a radio, that’s been remodelled by a blind chimp.
“They threw it out,” Adrian responds, matter-of-fact, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“I found it in the garbage heap below deck, right next to what I’m convinced was a composting toilet that nobody ever actually emptied.
It’s not broken. Or, well, it is. But it’s fixable, I’m pretty sure.
These guys just didn’t know what they were doing. ”
I stare at him for a second. “So these idiots had a communication device, but because it was broken they just tossed it and decided to fucking sail these waters without a single way of communication.”
Adrian stares at me, like I just said something completely stupid. “They’re pirates, Grace, not geniuses. They were probably going to get another one when they next docked.”
Kellen snorts.
I roll my eyes.
“What’s wrong with it, then?” I ask.
Adrian doesn’t look up, his hands are already pulling at wires. “I’m not certain. Looks like someone tried to ‘fix’ it with duct tape and leftover copper wire. Which would have worked, if they had any idea what they were actually doing.”
Ace leans over with his arms folded. “How long do you think before you can get it working?”
“That, my friend, depends on your willingness to scavenge,” Adrian says, shoving his glasses back up on his nose as he stares up at Ace.
“I need wires. Metal. A battery that holds a charge. Actually, anything with a charge. Basically anything electronic on this ship needs to be brought to me, because I need a miracle.”
Zeke claps his hands together. “Alright, Kellen, you and me, we’re hitting the engine room. Everything that looks like a wire or a battery, we’re bringing it up here. Don’t care how fucked it is, just bring it.”
Kellen nods, and I see just a smidge of hope in his eyes.
Adrian continues. “Aggie, Kaylee, see if there’s anything in the captain’s station that even vaguely connects to power.
Anything. A light, a bulb, a fan, I don’t care.
That woman here was nothing if not a hoarder, so maybe luck will be on our side. ”
Aggie swipes away the remnants of tears, straightens her shoulders, a new burst of life. She has a new mission. She doesn’t hesitate. “Okay, come on Kaylee, let’s go.”
Kaylee gives a nervous nod and follows her lead. And then it’s just me, Ace, Rachel, and a girl dying in a dark room.
“What do I do?” Rachel asks, her voice barely a whisper.
Ace looks over at her. “See if you can wash any of the towels and bedding that we used, as we are going to need more.”
She nods, without a word, turns and leaves.
I turn to Ace. “What can I do?”
He looks at the back of my hand, still tinged with dried blood, then runs a thumb over my knuckles as if it bothers him more than it bothers me. “You sit with Tati,” he murmurs. “Keep her warm, hydrated and safe.”
I clear my throat, try to be tough. “On it. If anything changes, yell for me, okay?”
He nods and is gone, taking the longest, slowest look at my face before turning.
I step back into the room we put Tati in.
She is awake, but as still as a corpse. The only thing that tells me she is breathing still, is the slow rise and fall of her chest. I have to swallow twice before I can speak. “Hey,” I say, offering a small smile.
She doesn’t answer, but she gives me the smallest, weakest smile.
I go and sit down beside her, crossing my legs. “You’re going to be okay, you know that, right? We’re all going to make it. Adrian found a radio...”
She shifts, slow and heavy. “Bullshit,” she grates, but there is a soft smile playing around her lips. “If I die... can you tell everyone I got taken down by a mob of angry pirates fighting for my life. Don’t tell them I slipped and impaled myself. That is a horrible ending.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out as a sob, tight and painful. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll glue you together if I have to.”
Her hand finds mine, it’s warm, but clammy. “How does something like this even happen?” she asks, voice trembling. “Like, how dumb am I. I impaled myself. Has that even happened to someone before?”
I smile, even though it feels as though the entirety of my insides are shaking. “I honestly have no idea. But it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You were just trying to fix things.”
She snorts. “Some fixer. Can’t even keep myself together.”
“Hey, shush,” I say. “You’re the only person I know who could survive a splinter the size of a baseball bat through your gut. Just hang in there, yeah? Adrian’s going to fix that radio, and everything will be okay.”
She licks her lips and looks at me with something like awe. “Somehow, Grace, you always make it sound like things aren’t fucked. Even when they are.”
“Comes with the territory,” I mutter, and try to smile.
We sit like that for a long time, the silence broken only by the occasional thud of something heavy being dropped onto the deck above us, and the distant echo of Zeke’s cursing.
There’s a peace in it, almost, the stillness of Tati’s shallow breathing and the world narrowed down to the tiny, dim-lit room, the two of us holding on for the stupidest, most stubborn reasons.
Eventually, Ace appears in the doorway, ducking in with a bottle of water and four little pills in his palm. He kneels next to us, and holds them out to Tati. “For the pain, and the infection.”
She raises her brows, just a little. “Is it morphine at least? Something epic that will make me forget that I am laying here with a fucking piece of wood in my stomach.”
He actually smiles, the first smile I’ve seen since the accident. “It’s not morphine, but if you want, there is a stash of weed I can light up for you, make this room a fuckin’ smoke show,” he says, and then winks.
She coughs out a small laugh, and winces. “It’s tempting.”
Ace grins again. Then we both carefully move her head up just enough so that she can swallow the pills.
“Sip,” I tell her, bringing the bottle to her lips. She sips, winces again, but gets it down, then chases the pills with a gulp.
Ace settles in beside me. For a long while, we say nothing, just listen to the ship creak and groan.
Tati falls asleep again, her breathing soft.
Ace has his hand on my thigh, thumb stroking small circles, but he doesn’t say a word.
Maybe he’s thinking about everything we survived to get to this point.
Maybe he’s just waiting for another shoe to drop.
When I finally can’t take the silence any more, I murmur: “Do you think this is going to work?”
He doesn’t lie to me, and I love him for that. “I dunno. But if there’s anyone on earth who can fix a radio with a ball of tinfoil and a battery, it’s Adrian.”
A long pause.
“Did you ever think we’d get this far?”
He shrugs, but the motion is heavy. “I figured we’d die on that island, if I’m being honest.”
“Me too,” I whisper, and thread my fingers through his.
He gives my hand a squeeze, then leans back against the wall.
I let myself stare at Tati for a long time, watching her chest moving. The part of me that still believes in miracles is screaming to do something, anything, but there’s nothing left but waiting and the slow motion of grief.
“Come on, let’s go and get some fresh air,” Ace murmurs, low. “You need a break.”
He’s not wrong.
He helps me up, and I walk slowly, trying to shake the dread out of my bones.
Up on deck, the sky is a beautiful shade of blue with a golden streak from the morning sun.
We walk to the back of the ship, breathing in the salty air and weird kind of peace you get out here.
Pulling out a cigarette, Ace inhales deeply and offers it to me.
I don’t say no.
I inhale, cough and then pass it back.
“She’s tough,” he says, voice rough, as if he knows what I’m thinking.
“I know she is, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens if Adrian can’t fix that fucking radio, or if we hit a storm, or any of the million things that can kill us.”
I stare out at the sea, the nothingness.
“We make it work, sweet pea. We always do.”
He flicks the cigarette out over the railing, and the ember arcs away, swallowed up by the ocean.
“Are you scared, Ace?” I whisper, stepping closer to him as a cool breeze trickles over me.
“No. I ain’t afraid of dying, Gracie. Not even a little. But when it comes to you... fuck, the thought of not makin’ it out with you by my side scares the fuckin’ shit out of me.”
I reach for his hand, the heat of his palm grounding me as I press my body against his. “You won’t. I’m not that easy to kill.”
He glances at me, eyebrow cocked. “I hope you’re right, kid.”
Me too.
Fuck.
Me too.