“No biggie then,” Robyn said.
The thunder continued to diminish as the lighting storm drifted away, and suddenly the wind and rain seemed a little less stinging as the boat started on its new course.
“It feels like we might be over the worst of it,” Wren shouted.
“Let’s hope. Shine your torch ahead,” Elizabeth asked. Her muscles were beginning to tire. She had fought a long battle against the elements, but it was still too early for any respite.
Wren pulled out her torch and shone the beam in front of the boat. The rain continued to fall sideways, but in nowhere near the volume it had earlier, and the wind had clearly lost some of its force too.
Another scream went up as everybody felt the boat rise like it was being lifted out of the water by some giant. “What was that?!” screamed Susan.
“Wren! Quickly, to the right,” Elizabeth said, and Wren whipped her torch round to the starboard to reveal a fifteen-foot wave heading towards them.
Another huge scream erupted from all the occupants of the boat. “Mummy!” cried Ruth, struggling free from her brother to head to her mother’s side.
“Nooo!” shrieked Elizabeth as she desperately tried to shift the boat’s direction. The carbon fibre construction turned just enough not to capsize, but everyone had to hold on with each ounce of strength they possessed. Robyn and Wren held their weapons tightly with one hand while keeping their other clamped to the seat. Matthew, Melissa and Susan gripped on for dear life, and in one movement, Elizabeth wedged her calf beneath her seat, and brought in her makeshift rudder and angled it over the boat towards Ruth in the hope that the six-year-old would take hold of it.
The boat climbed the wave, tilting until it was almost vertical. Distant lightning cast enough of a glow for all of them to see Ruth flying from the deck in her soaked, golden clothes and life jacket like she was being launched from a giant catapult. Elizabeth’s wailing cry almost pierced Wren’s eardrums as the vessel crashed down on the other side of the wave with an almighty clap. Wren and Susan immediately pulled their torches out and began shining them around, looking for the yellow jacket. Matthew, Melissa and Elizabeth were all screaming at the top of their voices.
“Shut the hell up,” Robyn growled, and all the screams stopped immediately, but for one.
“Muuummy!” cried the voice as it drifted further away.
Suddenly Wren caught a glimpse of yellow in the outer edges of her torchlight. Without so much as a thought, she stood and dived into the water as a second, smaller wave hit the boat. Wren disappeared into the blackness.
“Nooo!” cried Robyn this time. “Wren!” she screamed, snatching Susan’s torch from her and casting its glow towards the water. “Wren!” she yelled again, but there was no sign of her sister, no sign of the yellow life jacket, and the only thing she heard other than her own voice and the wash of the waves against the side of the boat was the blood rushing in her ears as her heart began to drum faster and faster.
chapter 13
The wind and rain had lost even more of their ferocity in those few seconds, and now the white swells around the boat were giving way to velvety black walls of water that continued to exert their influence on its direction with a forceful, insistent momentum, rather than the fierce whipping and lashing of the whitecaps.
“We need to go after them,” Robyn shouted.
“How?” cried Elizabeth.
Robyn shone the torch around her feet, looking for another oar. She picked it up and placed it in the water, paddling it frantically in order to turn the boat. She almost succeeded, but then another black wave denied her effort and twisted the orange vessel back around.
“Well, don’t just sit there, help me!” Robyn yelled.
Matthew and Melissa were by now hopelessly angling their torches towards the direction Wren and Ruth had disappeared. Beyond lay the estuary they were leaving behind and miles of craggy coastline. “They’ll be lucky if they don’t get smashed on the rocks,” Melissa blurted.
Robyn turned around with venom in her eyes. “Keep your mouth shut if you’ve got nothing useful to say,” she spat, before placing the oar back into the water and trying to turn the boat again. Another smaller wave battered against them, and the rumble of distant thunder gave them more confidence that the worst of the weather was over.
Elizabeth stepped to the opposite side of the boat to Robyn. She paddled her oar in unison with Robyn’s, and together they managed to correct their direction, so the bow was pointing back towards the mouth of the estuary they had just come from rather than out towards the North Sea.
“Stroke!” shouted Elizabeth, and both she and Robyn placed their oars in the water and pulled with all their strength; they moved forward momentarily, giving them both the smallest amount of hope, but then the bow turned back away from the estuary mouth as it got dragged by the current. Another wave washed against them and turned them even more.
“Nooo!” shouted Robyn putting the oar back in the water and paddling even more feverishly to correct them. Elizabeth did the same, and they managed to right the boat again before the same thing happened.
“It’s no good. Until this water calms more, we’re at the mercy of the current,” Elizabeth shouted, flopping down into the seat and following the beam of her son’s torch to the blackness that had engulfed her daughter.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Mummy!” cried Ruth as she desperately tried to paddle back in the direction she thought she had come from. Her little feet and legs were no match for the waves and currents, but at least the lifejacket ensured she would not go under. For a short time after falling overboard, she caught glimpses of the torch beams in between the melee of the waves, but now as she dipped and rose in the cold darkness that engulfed her, the only thing she could see was the odd flash of distant lightning. “Muuu…mmy,” she cried again, hopelessly fearful.
“Ruth!” called a voice from the darkness.
The little girl had no idea where the sound had come from, but the split-second realisation that she was no longer alone made her survival instinct notch up a gear. “Help! Help me. I’m here!” she shouted as a wave lifted her, “I’m here!” she shouted again.
No sound came back to her for a moment, and the little girl wondered if she had just imagined the voice, but then it came again. “R...u..th,” came the shout, interspersed with gargling as the voice’s owner temporarily submerged. Despite the wind having calmed and the lashing rain having died down to little more than the occasional shower bursts, the swells of the water were still powerful and unrelenting.
“Help!” cried Ruth again. “Help!”
“Ruth! Keep shouting,” called the voice.
The little girl did as she was asked, and kept yelling at the top of her voice, until she felt something take her in her grip. At first, she was fearful that it was some giant sea creature and she let out a panicked scream as she felt thick tendrils wrap around her, but then she heard the voice again. “It’s me, Wren.”
“I want my mummy!” Ruth said, beginning to cry again.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find your mummy, but not right this second. We need to get out of the water, otherwise, we’re going to get hypothermia.”
“What’s hythermia?”
“It means we get very, very cold and ill.”
The buoyancy of the lifejacket was more than enough to support the pair of them, and Wren held onto it, kicking hard with her legs, using it as a swimming aid as she aimed them in the direction she hoped was land.
Adrenaline was still surging through Wren’s system, but she could begin to feel the effects of the cold as her fingers became locked around the jacket. The waves were pushing them in, she just hoped it was towards land, and not into the middle of the estuary. She continued to kick as hard as she could. She did not know how long she could keep this up, she did not know how long she would need to; but while there was still a breath left in her lungs, she would not stop trying.
✽ ✽ ✽
“I think we can try again,” Elizabeth said, placing her oar back in the water. It feels like it’s settling a little more.
Robyn did not need to hear the suggestion twice, and knelt, placing her own oar in the water and stroking with all her strength. The clouds were moving fast, and a slip of a moon was casting enough light for them to see the silhouetted shapes on the land in the distance. This time they managed to turn the bow and keep it turned, but it was hard work building up any momentum, as nature’s will did not bend to their needs.
“They could be anywhere,” Melissa said.
“Yeah, well, it’ll be getting light in a few hours. They’ll be easier to spot then,” Robyn replied.
“They might have been washed out to sea. It’s madness trying to find them,” Melissa insisted.
Matthew let go of Melissa’s hand, angrily. “We’ll find them,” he said.
Robyn brought the oar in and threw it down, making the boat rock wildly as she grabbed hold of Melissa by the scruff of her neck, making her drop her torch. Melissa let out a stifled yelp as Robyn dragged her to within an inch of her own face.
“You listen to me. That is my sister out there. She’s a medal-winning heptathlete. She doesn’t know what it means to give up. For you, for me, being in that water would be a death sentence. For her, it’s not. We’re going to carry on looking until we’ve found her. And if I hear one more negative thing coming from your mouth, you’re going to wish you’d stored up some of that hot air that keeps leaving your lips. You’ll need it when I throw you over the side to keep you afloat,” Robyn spat, finally letting go of Melissa, who immediately began to cry. Robyn picked up the oar again and began to paddle.
“I think the tide might be turning,” Elizabeth said, beginning to paddle more frantically as shock gave way to the realisation of what was actually happening. “It’s feeling a bit easier, like we’re making headway.” The lightning was in the far distance now. In a city, they would never even see it, but out in the sea, every light was visible.
“You seem to know a lot about boats and stuff for someone who went on the odd trip across the bay for supplies,” Robyn said.
“My dad was a fisherman. I spent a lot of time on boats,” Elizabeth replied.
“Good job you did,” Robyn said.
“Ruth’s as light as a feather. That jacket will be more than enough to keep them both afloat,” Elizabeth said, trying to convince herself more than the others.
Robyn tried to smile but could not. She knew the reality of the situation. A thousand different things could have happened. Her sister could be anywhere; but what she did know in her heart of hearts was that Wren would never give up if the roles were reversed, and neither would she.
✽ ✽ ✽
Wren’s foot hit something solid. Then her other foot did the same. “Ow!” cried Ruth. “I felt something sharp.”
Wren stopped kicking and tried to tread water, but couldn’t. The pebbles on the sea bed banged against her feet and churned. The wash of another wave dragged the two of them further to the shore, and now they both felt something solid beneath them. The swell of the water was still harsh, but as Wren stood up, there was little danger from it now. She shivered as the cold air met her even colder body. Ruth tried to stand but lost her footing and plopped down again into the water.
“C’mon,” Wren said, taking hold of the little girl’s hand as she tried to make out the shapes around them. She looked up to the sky to see a thin cloud covering the crescent moon. She looked back down at the silhouettes around them; they appeared to be on a very narrow strip of beach. The pebbles grated and ground underfoot as they walked along, shivering. Wren looked out to the water. The waves were still restless, but nothing compared to what they had been. She could not see any features out on the water, but she knew her sister would be looking for her. She unfastened the yellow life jacket from Ruth, and threw it to the sand. Where they were going, it would be of no use to them.
At the end of the beach was a stone staircase leading to the road above. They began to ascend, and halfway up, Wren noticed a dock with a few boats moored to it. They still bobbed and waned in the choppy waters, but the more time that went on and the further the storm moved away, the calmer the sea became.
“Hurry Ruth—I’ve got an idea,” Wren said as they began to run up the remainder of the steps. “Shhh…stay here,” she said to the little girl as she crept up the last few herself. Wren slowly popped her head above ground level to see if there was anything lying in wait for them. She had no weapons; she was cold and soaked to the skin. There was no way she could put up a fight against anyone or anything in this condition, so the best option was avoidance. As she let her eyes become accustomed to the surroundings, she could make out the basic shapes of buildings, road signs and even the odd parked car. She could see there was one large building on the opposite side of the road that looked like a hotel, but as she glanced in every direction, she saw no movement or any shapes that suggested danger.
“Come on,” she called back to Ruth in not much more than a whisper. The little girl obeyed, and within a few seconds, the pair of them were heading down another flight of steps to the dock. The thin cloud finally revealed the slip of moon in its reflective glory and for the first time, they could make out a little more than just silhouettes as they stepped foot onto the dock.
“I’m cold,” Ruth whimpered as they walked along hand in hand.
“I know. Me too. We’re going to get warm again soon. Don’t worry. We just need to let your mum and my sister know where we are.”
“How?”
Wren did not answer. She knew how. She knew it was the only way, but she also knew it came with a huge risk. But to be reunited with her sister; there was nothing more important. It was a risk worth taking. “Stay here,” she instructed as she climbed on board a small cruiser which had been battered against the dock in the storm. It was still afloat, but she could see, even in the limited light available, that there were gaping black holes in the white fibreglass. She stepped into the small bridge and felt around in the dark. Her hands came across a rubber torch. She switched it on, but the batteries were badly run down, and the beam was weak. It was enough for her to find what she needed though, and as the boat continued to sway beneath her feet, she grabbed hold of a small yellow case that read “PERSONAL DISTRESS SIGNAL NINE SHOT FLARE GUN.”
She climbed back out of the boat and rejoined Ruth on the dock. “What have you got?” asked the little girl.
“Something that’s going to help us,” she replied as they headed a little further along the jetty to a much more expensive looking cruiser. Wren climbed on board and headed straight to the bridge, using the failing light of the torch to see if she could find anything useful for them. There was a bigger torch, and when she turned it on, it cast a powerful light. She found another box of flares, identical to the ones she had already found in the other boat, and in a tool bag, there was a claw hammer and the largest adjustable spanner she had ever seen. It weighed the best part of two kilos and was at least eighteen inches long. She emptied the tool bag out over the floor, put the giant spanner, hammer, the flares, and a long straight-edged screwdriver back in, and threw the straps to the bag over her shoulder.
The smell of the grease made her nose curl, but at least she had some items that could be used as weapons now. As she climbed back down off the cruiser, she could see Ruth waiting patiently, terrified to move from the spot. “Okay, come on,” Wren said, taking the little girl’s hand once again and starting to run along the wooden slats of the dock.
They retraced their path up the steps to the road, making sure to turn the torch off to avoid unwanted attention long before they arrived at the top. As they reached the road, another fast-moving cloud swept over the moon, shrouding the light once more. Wren looked out to sea, and the darkness lifted again as the slip of moon peeked out once more. Even with the light and the calmer sea, Wren could not make out any shapes that resembled a boat, a
nd she wondered if a current had whisked her sister away too far to see the signal she was about to send. She removed the bag from her shoulder and placed it on the ground in front of her, looking up and down the road they were on to see any sign of movement. She opened the case, expecting to see a flare gun, like she had seen a thousand times in the movies, but that is not what was in front of her.
There were cartridges and something that looked like a large pen by the side of them. There were instructions, and Wren realised that this was not going to be the quick shoot and dash she had hoped for. “Wren, I’m cooold,” Ruth whined as her teeth chattered.
“Just give me a minute, Ruth,” Wren snapped, before bundling everything back into the bag. She grabbed the little girl’s hand, and they ran across the road to the hotel, running around the side of the building and ducking down behind some bushes. Wren brought the case out again, but this time, felt confident enough to switch on the torch without being noticed. She read the instructions and took out the device that looked like a pen, along with a few cartridges. She placed the pen device in the hole at the top of one of the cartridges. She then ran out into the middle of the road once again, leaving Ruth and the open bag just sitting there.
Wren held the device at arm’s length, pointing it upwards. She pressed her finger on the trigger, then released it. A powerful red flare shot into the sky with a loud pop; it got dragged a little by the wind, but still went high enough to be seen for some distance. She attached another cartridge and repeated the procedure again, and then a third time. She attached another flare to the end of the strange-looking gun, just in case she needed a diversion before she got back in the hotel.
If her sister was still out there, then hopefully she would have seen one of the flares. If not, then it was already too late. Wren looked up and down the road. There was still no movement, but she had just told everyone and everything in a ten-mile radius where she was. It would not be long before the place was swarming.
The End of Everything Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-3] Page 47
