by Lily Harlem
“Shit,” Evan said. “Abandon-fucking-ship.”
Olivia swiped at the moisture below her eyes and stared at Temptress. Such a beautiful boat being swallowed by flames was heart-breaking. But good souls were going down with her, and that was the end of the world.
“Harry! Raul!” she shouted.
And then, through the smoke she saw them on the tilting deck. They were silhouetted against the flames as they raced portside.
Raul took off first, by a second, he flew through the air then landed feet first in the water with his arms over his head.
Harry was close behind him, letting out a roar of what sounded like fury and frustration as he was mid jump.
Mason and Lucas steered toward them.
Raul and Harry surfaced and immediately struck out in the direction of the raft.
“Fuck. We’re still too close.” Evan shook his head.
“I know.” Mason rowed harder.
So did Lucas.
Quickly they reached the two men in the ocean and pulled them aboard. It was a tight fit with the big sack too, but at least they were all away from the fire.
“Go…go…” Harry panted, gesturing into the darkness.
Raul was bent double spluttering. His chest heaved and his ribs were evident.
Each push pull on the oar took them farther away. When they reached fifty meters Mason and Lucas slowed.
They all turned to look at Temptress as their life raft bobbed on the swell of the ocean.
The fire had left no part of her untouched. The sails had disintegrated, all that remained were the masts. From bow to stern she was alight, the flames roaring and crackling as they ate her hungrily.
“The gas—”
As Raul had spoken a huge explosion erupted into the night sky. It shot upward, thirty or forty feet. The center blinding white, the edges blood red and burnt orange.
Olivia jumped and gasped.
Harry wrapped his arm around her and held her close to his wet body.
“Oh God,” she managed.
Bits of boat—broken, warped, charred—shot like a fountain of fireworks into the sea. Some fizzing, some floating and on fire, others sinking instantly.
An almighty creak coincided with Temptress tipping to a hugely unnatural angle. The stern disappeared as the bow pointed upward, piercing the night sky.
“She’s going?” Mason said.
No one spoke.
Olivia was aware that she was crying, but no sound accompanied the tears. She gripped Harry’s t-shirt as her chest ached.
Temptress, slowly sank lower. First the Bimini, then the boom, the mast. It was as if the ocean were eating her.
Still the bow burned. Smoke poured from the smashed port holes. It was a war of fire and water.
But the ocean was winning and as she became ever smaller, disappearing into the arms of the dark sea, the light around the raft faded.
Eventually just the tip of the bow was visible. One small flame licking over its nose. The fire wouldn’t give up until the last second.
And then it was gone. The water parted then closed over the last position Temptress had been. All that was left was a swirling circle of current and debris.
“Shit. That’s a real bummer,” Evan said.
His words rang around them, accompanied by the tiny splashes against the raft.
Olivia pulled in a deep breath and managed to get a grip of her sobbing. She had to think straight. They all did.
“But we’re okay,” Mason said. He paused. “Aren’t we?”
“I burned my arm,” Raul said, holding up his right arm.
It was too dark to see much, but the skin looked darker.
“Badly?” Harry asked.
“Hard to tell.” Raul peered at it. “It hurts so I reckon that’s a good sign. Not too deep.”
“How long till we get picked up?” Mason asked.
Olivia looked up at Harry. It seemed all eyes were on their captain.
He pressed his lips together. “I checked in a few hours ago, so they should know where we are. So with communication gone, they’ll have a rough idea for a search area.”
“But they won’t start searching until we’ve been out of contact for twenty-four hours.” As Olivia had spoken, a new fear gripped her.
All they had was this raft and whatever was in the bag Raul had thrown at her.
Harry held her a little tighter. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
“You can’t promise her that,” Evan said.
“I agree,” Lucas said. “You can’t.”
“Hey. I’m trying to be upbeat.”
“Not much to be upbeat about, Captain,” Mason said.
“Fuck. It wasn’t my fault the damn boat caught fire.” Irritation laced Harry’s tone.
“So whose fault was it?” Evan asked. “It was your boat, built to your specifications. How the hell did it just go up in flames in the middle of the night?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll never know.”
Olivia thought again of the wonky catch on the stove. She glanced at Lucas.
He gave a small shake of his head.
He was right. There was no point bringing that up here.
“No, we’ll never know.” Evan said, banging the side of the raft. “Because the fucking thing is at the bottom of the ocean. And it’s just as well none of us are down there, too. More bloody luck than anything else that no one is.”
“I got everyone off.” Harry jabbed his finger on his own chest.
Olivia sat and wrapped her arms around herself.
“And I was the last person off the damn thing, the way it should be for the captain.” Harry went on. “And you didn’t have to sign up to this trip, Evan. You chose to be here, no one forced you.”
“Well I guess I thought safety procedures would be a bit more rigorous. Jeez.” He pointed at Olivia. “The damn engine over heated earlier. If Olivia hadn’t known how to fix it, we could have gone down at lunch time. I guess there was always something that was going to get us.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Harry barked.
“No. You shut the fuck up. Money won’t get us out of this fucking mess.” Evan looked ready to fly at Harry. Olivia had never seen him like this. His chilled, easygoing demeanor had vanished as quickly as Temptress. “Gold plated credit cards are no good in the middle of the damn Pacific.”
“Stop!” Olivia shouted. “Will you just stop.”
They all looked at her.
Silence.
“If we argue about what’s happened instead of figuring out what we’re going to do next we’ll all be dead.” She gestured to the ocean. “We all understand the sea. There’s no reason we can’t survive until we’re found.”
Evan pulled in a deep breath and seemed to get his anger under control.
Next to her Harry unclenched his fists and set his hands, fingers spread, on his thighs.
“We need to stay calm and focused,” she said, in as placid a tone she could manage, “Otherwise we’re going to go from the best time of our lives, to a burning nightmare to absolute hell on earth.”
Chapter Eleven
“I agree,” Mason said. “Well said, Olivia.” He nodded at the sack in the center, by their feet. “What’s in there?”
“It is kitchen things,” Raul said.
“Kitchen things?” Harry held up his hand. “You gathered kitchen things?”
“Hey, I am chef. I am responsible for feeding you, the crew. I need stuff to do that.”
“So it’s mainly food?” Evan asked.
“And a few…other things.”
“Well done.” Harry reached out and squeezed Raul’s bare shoulder. “Glad you didn’t pay for it with your life though.”
“Me too.” Raul nodded.
“And in here,” Harry reached to the base of the raft. “Move your feet, Olivia.”
She did as he’d asked, shifting her bare feet to one side.
He opened a waterproof fabric pouch
. “Is basic survival gear for the raft. We won’t die of thirst, there’s dew harvesters, plus some military ration packs and a screen to keep the sun off us. Flares, compass, torch, first-aid kit.”
“Radio?” Mason asked. “Cause that would be a wee bit helpful right about now.”
“Yeah, there is.” He pulled out a pouch that left a dent in the base of the raft. “Let’s find it.”
Olivia hoped and prayed they’d be able to make contact with a rescue team before twenty-four hours.
“Here.” He passed her the first-aid kit. “Can you find something for Raul’s burn?”
“Sure.” She took it, and in the faint starlight, rummaged amongst bandages and slings, plasters and tape. “Here, ointment. Hopefully it will hold off infection.”
“What does it say?” Raul asked.
“I can’t read it. It’s too dark.”
“Here.” Harry shone a torch on the blue tube of cream.
“I’ll hold that,” Mason said, handing his oar to Evan and taking it. “You concentrate on finding the radio, Captain.”
Olivia glanced at him. The way he’d said captain held just a hint of defiance. She hoped Harry hadn’t noticed. The last thing they needed was animosity, arguing amongst themselves when the elements were going to be enough of an opponent until they got picked up.
“Er yes, it says it’s soothing for bites, wounds and scalds.”
“Put it on,” Raul said, holding out his arm.
Mason shone the torch on the burned area of flesh.
She squeezed some onto her finger, then gently swiped it over his forearm, making sure to cover the darker patch. She heard his sharp intake of breath and knew it must be sore, “Sorry, Raul. I’m so sorry.”
“It is okay. It has to be done.”
Quickly she finished spreading it around, hoping she’d covered it all.
“Radio,” Harry said.
Mason flashed the torch at the small red radio. “Thank God for that.”
Harry flicked a switch.
Nothing.
“Battery dead?” Evan asked.
“Are there even batteries in it?” Mason added.
“Sure there will be.”
“What type of radio is it?” Olivia asked.
“Ah.” Harry spun it around. “Solar powered.”
“And is it charged?” She stared at the small black panels, already knowing the answer. It was one of the many reasons she would have liked to have had a day or two on Temptress before they’d set off. To check the small, but life saving details like the damn emergency radio working.
“I’m guessing not.” Harry had the good grace to glance at her with a sheepish look on his face.
“It’s fine.” She rested her hand on his forearm. “The sun will be up soon. It won’t take long to charge. Then we can radio for help. We’ll only lose a few hours.”
He gave her a grateful smile.
“And there’s three flares,” Mason said, pointing the beam of light into the pouch. “So even if the rescue team is at a distance, we’ll be able to attract their attention.”
“Just keep them dry,” Evan said. “Wet flares are no good to anyone.”
Mason turned off the torch. “And I’ll save the battery on this, if that’s okay with everyone.”
Olivia let out a shaky sigh as darkness descended again.
Raul scooted closer to her and put his unharmed arm around her shoulders. He set a kiss on her temple. “Do not be scared. You have five big strong men to look after you.”
“Yes, but look where I am.” She laughed, but it held little humor.
“You do have a point,” Evan said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You risked yourself to come and wake me, and get me out of my cabin.”
“You must have been so tired to sleep like that.” Through the dim light she saw him shake his head. “Too tired.”
“I was dreaming that I was skiing behind the boat. The way you had. The bangs and shouts were all part of the dream. I guess I would have woken in another minute or two.”
“The smoke would have got you. It was pea soup down there,” Mason said.
“Pea soup?” Raul repeated, rubbing Olivia’s shoulders, over and over and creating a warming friction. “I did not make pea soup.” He sounded indignant. “Yuk.”
“No.” Mason laughed, though his sounded more genuine than hers had. “Pea soup is thick smoke.”
“It’s smog,” Lucas said. “It’s a Victorian saying, comes from a time when London was gripped with smog from the industrial revolution.”
“Oh, okay.” Mason huffed. “Clever dick.”
“Just saying.” Lucas shrugged.
Olivia looked at him. “Thanks, Lucas. I wouldn’t have gotten off the boat if you hadn’t made me. And I can see now that my being on there could have risked your lives. The smoke had filled my lungs, I wasn’t thinking properly.”
“I hope I didn’t hurt you. I wasn’t as gentle as I should have been.” He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Sorry.”
“No.” She reached forward and pressed her hand on his knee. “I’m fine. Really.” She looked out at the dark ocean. It stretched as far as she could see, then when it stopped it was kissed by the starry sky. “Well, I’m as fine as I can be considering we’re in a small raft, in the middle of the Pacific and at present no one knows where we are or that we need help.”
“You’ll be being hoisted into a rescue helicopter before you know it,” Harry said.
“Helicopters can’t come out this far,” Evan said.
“Really?” Harry looked surprised.
“Yeah, fuel capacity.” Evan turned to Mason. “Where are we exactly? You said something about some uninhabited islands west of here.”
“Aye.” Mason nodded. “You’re right. We were due to hit them in a few hours’ time, or the first wee rocky one at least. I anticipated seeing it at dawn.”
“So we can’t be that far,” Olivia said.
“I agree.” Mason turned to his right. It was almost as if he could imagine seeing the islands in the distance.
“So why don’t we row?” Lucas said. “Would be good to hit dry land and wait for rescue there.”
“Yes.” Olivia pointed at the oars. “It won’t be as fast as the sails, but at least we’ll feel like we’re doing something.”
“I agree.” Harry held his hand out to Evan. “I’ll take that.”
“I’m happy to row,” Evan said, keeping hold of the oar.
Harry’s lips pressed together in a tight line.
Olivia wondered if he’d take it further. Not getting his way wasn’t something Harry was used to.
Instead he turned to Lucas. “Want me to—?”
“I’m good, Captain. I’ll let you know if I tire.”
“Yes, you do that.” Harry folded his arms. The radio sat on his lap, solar panels facing upward.
Olivia slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow and in the darkness, gave his fingers a squeeze. He must feel like shit. She knew that. The boat he’d been so proud of had failed them. She knew why, and so did Lucas. But they’d keep that to themselves… for now.
Will we ever tell the others?
As she held Harry’s hand her body brushed up against Raul’s with the raft’s lurch then sag at each push, pull of the oars.
“Are you cold?” she asked Raul.
“I am okay.”
She knew he wasn’t. He’d been in the water, and the air temperature was cool. “Do you want my t-shirt?”
“And deny you your tiny bit of warmth? No. I am a gentleman.” He hugged her a little closer. “Well, as much as I can be.”
“What does that mean?” She looked up at him.
“It means stay sitting close. You are my little botella de agua caliente.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she said. “But if I’m helping, I’m glad.”
“You are helping mi niña hermosa. You are helping.”
&nb
sp; They sat in silence listening to the rhythmic sound of the oars dipping in and out of the water.
Olivia closed her eyes and set her attention on the melody. Water had always soothed her. The sound especially. Right now she had to draw on that. Catastrophe had struck. But they were okay. They had a durable raft, provisions, and two plans of action. One to reach dry land, and the other to radio for rescue.
It would be easy to let panic reign. But that wasn’t the type of person she was.
She imagined being home, telling her friends and family about being afloat in the middle of the ocean with five cute guys. How they’d lost their yacht, rowed to safety. It would make a great story.
“What the fuck was that?”
She flicked open her eyes.
Mason was pointing to the left. “There’s something there.”
“Is it a bit of boat?” Harry asked.
“No, it’s moving.”
“Mierda, mierda. A shark, I knew it!” Raul twisted and turned, looking into the dark water. “I am dead meat.”
“No, it’s not a shark,” Olivia said, hoping she sounded convincing. Because she had no idea what Mason had seen.
“It’s really fucking big,” Harry said.
“What is it?” Raul held Olivia tighter. “It is shark. It has come for me. I knew this was how I would end. In jaws. I knew it. And I am hurt, that is how it found me.” He waved his injured arm around. “It smelled the blood.”
“Would you get a grip?” Olivia set her hand over his cheek and forced him to look at her. “Why would a shark be out here now? They hunt at dawn and dusk, and right now it’s the middle of the night. And it’s not as if there’s any of your blood in the water. Hell, all that burning crap, it will have sent sharks in the opposite direction.”
“You think so?” He stilled though he was breathing fast.
“Yes, I think so.” She smiled. “It’s okay. Really.”
“Look!” Lucas said, in as loud a voice as she’d ever heard him use.
“What?” Evan turned to where Lucas was pointing. “Holy shit!”
“What is it?” Olivia said, straining to see anything in the blackness.
“It’s a whale,” Mason said. “I’m guessing blue, but I might be wrong.” He flicked the torch on and shone it at the ocean.
“Oh my God,” Olivia said, her heart thumping wildly.
