Chapter 4
IT DOESN’T TAKE LONG to pack a few things, mostly warm clothes and items that protect us from the sun. Extra for the others, even though it wouldn’t completely upset me to see Iris and Rachel burning as they whine about how shit this trip is while proceeding to blame it on me and my father.
I suppose they wouldn’t be wrong.
We also stash water, food and medicine in one boat, and some fishing reels and line in another.
We have a plan to ensure we get on that one if it comes down to it.
The sea is mostly calm tonight, the water gently lapping against the boat.
We have picked a good night, and I hope that counts for something.
The kitchen sits at the far back of the yacht, a long corridor away from where the rooms are at the bow.
We check the hallway twice before we slip inside, Aggie pulling the door shut behind us and twisting the lock.
The room is all stainless steel and fluorescent light, smelling of food and dish soap.
Aggie moves fast, pulling bottles from her bag and uncapping them over the drain.
Whatever combination she’s mixing, it hits the air like something chemical and wrong—sharp and eye-watering, somewhere between bleach and burning plastic.
I press my sleeve over my nose and mouth and take a few steps back until my shoulders meet the door, Tatiana pressing in beside me.
“I’m going to burn a piece of paper,” Aggie says, ushering us back out into the corridor and pulling the door shut. “The second it hits those chemicals, we have maybe a minute. Maybe less.”
We all take a deep breath.
Here goes nothing, or everything.
She tears a strip from a folded sheet in her bag and soaks it with something from one of the bottles, holding it pinched between two fingers, away from her body. “Can’t let it go out before it gets in there.”
Tatiana and I back up until we hit the far wall.
Aggie flicks the lighter. The paper catches instantly, burning fast and orange, curling black at the edges.
She doesn’t look at us. She rushes over, placing it on the side of the sink where it will hopefully fall and catch onto the paper she just balled up and threw in there. Then, she turns and rushes towards us.
We just get outside of the kitchen when the bang goes off.
Not a crack but a deep, concussive thud that moves through the floor and up through my legs and into my chest. The corridor shudders.
A beat of silence, and then every alarm on the boat goes off at once, overlapping into a single screaming wall of sound.
Somewhere beneath us, the engines choke and die.
Then it comes to life, filling with shouting and pounding footsteps.
The boat lists slightly to one side as it loses its heading.
We run.
Towards the muster point we got shown when we first came on.
As we run, people are moving quickly, coming out of their rooms, yelling orders.
We act just as shocked and confused as everyone else, rushing up to the deck.
The sea is black and infinite. I can smell smoke, but I can’t see fire yet.
Rachel and Iris have joined us, their hair a mess, eyes filled with sleep as they glance around.
My eyes scan the crowd for Ace, but I can’t see him yet.
No doubt he’s trying to ensure our safety by stopping whatever set off the alarms. It doesn’t take me long to find them, though.
Within minutes, Ace, Zeke, and Kellen charge toward us, each of them with an expression on their faces that makes my stomach turn.
Ace’s gaze slams onto me with pinpoint precision.
He doesn’t look pissed, but he does look concerned and I wonder if we have taken things too far.
“What happened?” I ask, when they reach us.
“Get on the lifeboat. Now. We can’t risk anyone being on this boat if it blows again.” His voice is a feral hiss.
I glance at Aggie and Tatiana and try to ignore how pale their faces are.
I know it won’t blow again, at least, I don’t think it will, but I do as he is asking anyway.
Zeke’s already lowering the lifeboat, and Aggie grabs my wrist and drags me and Tatiana towards it.
I hear someone behind us hurling instructions into the night, and realize it is the captain.
Maybe we should have just taken him out.
Rachel and Iris find us, stumbling into the group with matching pyjamas and green facemasks, their expressions confused and darting around as if they still haven’t figured out what’s going on.
Zeke throws a confused glance at Rachel, like he is wondering why the hell she looks like that, and then he ushers them towards the lifeboat.
We all get in.
I glance down at the water, which is undulating black silk under the spotlights. The lifeboat looks impossibly small against it.
Just before we go down, Adrian appears, glasses crooked, hair a mess and pyjamas on.
He has a backpack slung over his shoulder, and doesn’t even ask if he can get in, he just climbs into our boat.
He looks over at me, with somewhat of a chipmunk expression, his front teeth exposed.
I want to laugh, but I’m too scared. “Statistically, we’ll likely die out here. ”
“Gee, thanks, Adrian,” Aggie mutters, shivering.
“I will be leaving a one-star review for this crew,” he says, like he is actually offended that we are going down instead of being terrified.
“Fuck me,” Ace mutters. “Let’s just lower this boat. Slowly.”
They lower the boat until it hits the water and someone shoves a lifejacket into my chest. I pass them around, my hands moving on their own while my eyes stay fixed on the yacht. Aggie finds my hand in the dark and holds it.
The smoke was supposed to stay smoke. An alarm, a flare of panic, coast guard on the radio—that was the plan. I watch the orange climbing the side of the hull and think... we did that. We had to, right? We had no choice.
Right?
Rachel and Iris start screeching, their voices scraping my nerves raw. Iris keeps saying, “We’re going to die, we’re going to die,” but Rachel cuts through her with, “This is your father’s fault, you know. If we die, it’s because of his stupid, flimsy yacht.”
I tell her to shut the hell up but my teeth chatter so bad it comes out gritted and raspy.
“I just want to let you all know,” Adrian goes on, “I can’t swim.”
“Fuck me,” I mumble. “Put your lifejacket on, Adrian.”
He does.
On the yacht, the smoke is thickening. More boats drop, one after another, figures in them I can’t make out, voices carrying across the water.
I press my palms flat against my knees to stop them from shaking and it doesn’t work.
Aggie isn’t looking at me. Neither is Tatiana. None of us are looking at each other.
Tatiana starts crying, quietly at first, but then louder when the boat jerks and sways a little too roughly.
It takes everything in me to wrap my arm around her shoulders and hold her steady.
Aggie leans over, voice low in my ear: “It wasn’t meant to go up like that, only enough that they could put it out but call for help. ”
“Guess we overestimated,” I mutter. “It’ll be okay, they’ll call for help.”
The seconds tick by way too slowly.
On the next line down, the guys drop—their boat smacks the surface and rocks violently before settling. Ace doesn’t wait for it to fully stabilize. He gets the oars in and digs them into the water, pulling toward us in short, urgent strokes, the muscles in his jaw tight.
He shoots me a look when he reaches us. “Anyone got burns? Anyone bleeding?”
We all shake our heads.
No one has to say it: Aggie’s bomb worked.
It may have worked a little too well.
“What are we going to do?” I ask, as the boat rocks harshly again.
“I don’t fucking know.”
I pause, confused. What does he mean he doesn’t know?
“What do you mean?” I say, shaking my head in confusion.
“What he means,” Kellen growls over the yelling surrounding us, “is that they were having trouble getting the radio to work and have to evacuate, we have no idea if they managed to call for help. Not to mention the safety beacon was in the kitchen, so nobody can fucking get it and we couldn’t find any more. The captain ordered everyone off.”
My stomach turns in a way that has me gripping the side of the boat and trying to stop myself from vomiting.
“There would have been more than one safety feature, and the captain would have a phone,” I say, my voice shaky.
“Apparently not. Someone didn’t fuckin’ think this boat would ever go down, because we couldn’t find any more. The captain has a phone, but if you recall, there is no fucking service.”
Oh god.
Did my father do this on purpose? Ensure there wasn’t enough safety equipment? Surely not, surely he would want us back alive over dead.
Or was he actually planning something even worse than we thought?
My stomach twists and my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“What are you saying?” Tatiana whisper-hisses.
“That we have only one way to call for help, and there is no guarantee,” Ace growls. “That’s what. Can only hope the damaged beacon in the kitchen goes off automatically, or the captain manages to get through somehow.”
Silence fills the lifeboat, before Rachel starts to cry and wail, followed by Iris.
I stare out at the open sea, eyes wide, wondering what the hell we have done.
The yacht recedes, the fire softening as we cut away from it.
It doesn’t look like anyone is still on there, and I can only hope he managed to get that radio call through or we just put all our lives at risk.
We try to keep the lifeboats together, but the sea pulls us in different directions so Ace ties ours with a rope, doing the best he can to keep us near them.
After that, we all fall silent, and I am sick with regret.
Aggie let go of my hand a while ago, and is just staring into nothingness, her face blank. Tatiana sobs quietly.