by Debbie Kump
Erik’s eyebrows knitted together. He probably didn’t realize the dolphin insignia on her uniform was exclusive to the submariner force. Most civilians would’ve drawn a similar conclusion.
“Then how did you end up here? In Miami, I mean?” he ventured.
So Alyssa related her story (purposefully omitting her romantic interlude with Officer Justin Hidalgo, of course) from training at Sub School to the sonar tests to the whale fatalities to breaking her stint in Quarantine. As she spoke, she noticed Erik’s attitude gradually change. It was slight at first, bordering on disbelief. (Though how could anyone contrive such a harrowing tale?)
But when she reached the part about finding the entire crew perished and the sub sinking, with her only escape lying in successful use of the egress chamber, Erik’s initial disbelief transformed into an expression of profound awe. His jaw crept toward the floor as he regarded her anew, instantly excusing the initial panic in her desperate need to locate a search and rescue team to recover the submarine. Or her reluctance to obtain a vehicle to scour Miami’s shops for provisions.
Emotionally depleted, Alyssa concluded with the red Porsche bearing down on her–the Porsche he was driving. Cautiously, she glanced at Erik, gauging his reaction. He simply stared back at her, speechless.
In the awkward silence that followed, the light chop of the sea seemed amplified, echoing against the hull of the ship. She shuddered as the chilling ocean spray kicked over the side of the boat, reminding her of how close she was to death only a short while ago.
Alyssa dropped onto the cockpit bench, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She had expected to feel some relief from sharing this news. Instead, the cavity within her chest widened, as if her heart had sunk into the abysmal depths with the Siren and its crew. She felt a sudden pang of longing for the familiarity of the life she had previously been so eager to escape.
What was she thinking; reliving the horrific memories of seeing her friends and the guy she loved slumped over in pools of their own blood? How could recounting it a million times ever make it hurt less?
“I feel so callous,” Alyssa continued weakly. Her eyes fell to her feet. “Like a monster. I don’t have any tears left.”
“You’re not a monster,” Erik said softly as he sat down next to her. Their unbalanced weight tilted the boat slightly to port. Neither appeared to mind.
Placing his index finger on the base of her jaw, Erik raised her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes locked with his for a lasting moment.
“I know it sounds pretty ridiculous now,” he added with a small, sheepish grin, “but when I saw your uniform, I assumed you were stationed at the base in Miami. Or on one of the boats in the harbor. I never imagined you were trapped…” he shivered slightly, “underwater.”
Gently, his fingertips brushed her cheekbone as he smoothed her windswept hair from her face. His hand glazed across the back of her head, his palm finally resting against the nape of her neck. Alyssa felt her head melt into his hand with the reassurance of his warm touch.
As her eyes searched his, everything made sense. His insensible reluctance to allow her to find help. His insufferable demands to find supplies. And his incomprehensible anger when she returned empty-handed.
All this time, he had no idea of the agony she had endured.
Alyssa opened her mouth to speak. But before she could verbalize a response to excuse Erik’s past behavior, his lips suddenly found hers. Softly, tenderly, he kissed her, as if apologizing for the misunderstanding that forged the basis of their relationship. His fingers passed across her knotted shoulders on their way down her spine, pausing momentarily at her waist to draw her body toward his. Alyssa breathed deeply as his lips left hers to trace the length of her jawbone, then caress the base of her throat.
Alyssa closed her eyes, consumed with a calming sensation of safety, comfort, and earned respect. Thrown into each other’s lives by extenuating circumstances, they now found themselves dependent upon each other. The indifferent stranger before her had vanished. Erik had become her confidant. Her partner in their struggle for survival.
And the only soul she knew alive in this uncertain world.
Slowly, Alyssa wound her arms around his back, her lips anxious for his soothing touch, ready to join his once more. Though this kiss lacked the reckless passion of her clandestine encounter with Officer Hidalgo in the Mess Hall, it was far sweeter. Deeper. And more meaningful, like two souls united in mutual grief.
For the first time since her nearly fatal ascent to the surface, Alyssa felt invigorated, her anxieties erased, her nerves steeled once more. Opening her eyes, she broke away to smile up at him, lightly running her fingers through his waves of blonde hair. Erik returned her smile, obviously pleased–perhaps even relieved–by the unexpected turn of events.
As Alyssa leaned forward to resume their kiss, something near the horizon caught her attention. She squinted into the blanket of night, spotting a flickering light against the darkened sea.
“Oh, God,” she moaned through trembling lips. “We’ve got company.”
Erik’s hands froze on her waist. His face paled in the thin light of the waning moon.
Quickly, Alyssa ducked out of his embrace and leapt down the stairs to extinguish the cabin lights, certain this sign could be either quite promising…or utterly disastrous.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Alyssa?” Erik called down from the cockpit as he unfurled the mainsail, “What’re you doing?”
“Getting ready,” she grunted under the strain of lifting a heavy crate.
He’d heard Alyssa for quite some time, rummaging through the piles of supplies in the darkened cabin while muttering curses under her breath. Erik wondered what had sparked her sudden interest.
Keeping the tiller aimed as far west of the approaching light as possible, Erik squinted into the dim moonlight, studying Alyssa quizzically as she collected items–for what purpose, he could not fathom.
Then Alyssa yelped as a stack of boxes crashed upon her.
Erik winced. “You okay down there?”
“Peachy,” came her muffled reply.
Well, at least she’d begun pulling her own weight. Rescuing her had been the noble course of action. Perhaps he was a little hasty in kissing her, he admitted, though Alyssa didn’t seem to mind. Besides, Rachael would understand. She was gone, so she’d want him to find comfort in her loss, wouldn’t she? It was only the beginning of the long and arduous process to mend his shattered heart.
Nervously, Erik glanced over his shoulder again. The flickering light had indeed gotten closer. But when he squinted into the blackness beyond, he could not discern an island’s silhouette behind it. Which could only mean one thing.
It belonged to another boat.
Under different circumstances, Erik would have been thrilled at the prospect of encountering other survivors. Logically, pockets of civilization remained. The poor in third world countries who couldn’t afford the technology, though commonplace in the U.S. and other developed nations. Remote groups of extremists scattered throughout the country. Some terrorists, most likely. And pirates.
A valid reason to worry. Why wait to find out the other sailors’ intentions?
She soon returned topside, her arms loaded with a couple of T-shirts and bottles of vodka, rum, and whiskey that Erik had pilfered from a liquor store in Miami.
Erik raised his eyebrows. “What’s that for?”
“A surprise for our guests.” Her forehead beaded with perspiration as she pushed her short, tangled brown hair behind her ears, adding, “Just in case.”
Erik found her elusiveness irritating. She wasn’t at all like Rachael, who spoke her mind and then some. But maybe that’s okay. If Erik had bothered to stop for a minute and listen to Rachael–instead of spinning a web of accusations and lies–he’d be dead, too.
Grumbling to himself, Erik tried to imagine what Alyssa planned to do with half his stash of alcohol on board. He might need it l
ater to drown his sorrows. Once he could pause for a moment and properly mourn the loss of everyone he knew. And loved.
And yet, in a quirky way, Erik found Alyssa’s concentration and determination somewhat alluring, as if her brain had instantly shifted into high alert, entering a sort of survival mode. Combined with her courageous tale of escaping, maybe there was more to Alyssa than he imagined. Part of him decided he’d like to find out.
Erik watched her with growing interest as she struggled to tear long strips from the lame FLORIDA BEACH BUM tees he’d snatched off a rack at the grocery store. Not like he planned to wear them or anything, he merely thought the fabric might come in handy. Plus they were the only things he could find in his haste to return to the Goldmans’ boat.
“Need some help?” he offered.
She shook her head. “Nah. I’m good.”
Wistfully, he watched her work, tearing the shirts into strips and stuffing one end into each of the bottles of alcohol sadly going to waste. Her brow furrowed with concentration as her eyes repeatedly darted to the sea, monitoring their progress.
Finished with her task, she set the bottles neatly in a row, tapping her pockets until she pulled out a lighter. She knelt down to test the lighter, shielding its warm glow from the wind and sight of the other ship. Satisfied, she stuffed it back inside her pocket, pacing as she contemplated her next course of action.
“Think they’re friendly?” she wondered, her agitated eyes scanning the horizon.
“I dunno. But I don’t really want to stick around to find out.” Erik adjusted the sails and rigging, trying to build speed.
She flicked her eyes toward the engine sitting idle. “Should we start her up?”
“Maybe. Or do you think it might give them more of a reason to pursue us? If they thought we were running away?”
“Good point.” She peered again at the growing light. “They’re still gaining on us.”
Erik didn’t reply. He was thinking about how much he’d like a pair of binoculars to get a closer look at the approaching boat and the numbers aboard. Yet he’d already chewed Alyssa out enough for her lack of help back in Miami.
At the time, he hadn’t known the extent of the trials she’d endured. And now–despite everything she’d been through–she was ready to fight for their lives.
Chapter Forty-Three
“GET DOWN!” Alyssa ordered. She pushed Erik flat on his belly just as a bullet whizzed past their heads, puncturing the mainsail. Prone against the floor of the cockpit, Alyssa turned her head toward Erik. “Still think they’re friendly?” she said sardonically as another shot screamed over the gunwale.
Too afraid to speak, Erik hoped her question was rhetorical. Here they were–being shot at–and she was cracking jokes. What a warped sense of humor.
After a third bullet sailed overhead, Alyssa got up from their hiding spot and leaped down the stairs into the cabin. Where’s she going now? Erik wondered; petrified to move a finger, much less leave his spot on the floor. Within seconds she returned carrying a small handgun.
“Where’d you get that?” Erik gasped, his face drained of color.
Alyssa shrugged. “Something I picked up when shopping in town.” She nestled herself against the gunwale, squinting her left eye to aim at the approaching boat.
Erik lifted his head enough to watch her first shot. His stomach fluttered uneasily. Who is this person? Certainly not the same incompetent wreck he’d pulled off the street. He managed to squeak out a few words, “But how’d you know how to–?”
“What?” she asked, dodging below the gunwale for a moment as the other boat returned fire. “Shoot a gun? From weapons and defense tactics training, I guess. Kind of a required thing.” She scampered back to her knees, took aim, and fired again.
How can she be so nonchalant? Erik shuddered as he heard a loud splash in the distance. She just killed a man.
Erik had never gone hunting, never even held a real gun before. The closest he came was playing paintball with some guys in college a couple of times. Eventually, however, he lost interest–due largely in part to the series of circular welts across his back when his roommate, Lucas Jenkins, tagged him at close range in enemy territory.
He swallowed hard thinking about Lucas and the guys, and the mock reality of their game. Only this was no game. Here, his life was at stake. And he felt utterly helpless in protecting it.
Alyssa, on the other hand, appeared completely in her element, as if conducting a mere training exercise. She seemed cool and collected, while Erik couldn’t stop the sweat from pouring down his brow. Secretly, he thanked Rachael. What would he have done in this situation, alone?
Erik watched Alyssa aim and pick off three more men in succession, his jaw dropping to the floor. Not just any men, but pirates, no doubt. Just thinking about the word made his skin crawl. He’d always thought of pirates as historic fiction from the early days of Caribbean settlements. He never expected to actually endure an attack by pirates. And if captured, these men certainly wouldn’t bother to hold them for ransom…not after 7G. So that meant only one thing.
The men aboard that ship would stop at nothing to kill them both and take claim of the Golden Sunset and all their supplies onboard. A shiver of fear racked Erik’s spine.
Alyssa shot again. Erik heard a splash as a body fell overboard. Then the firing ceased.
“Think you got him.”
“Yep,” Alyssa nodded. “But it’s not over yet.” Spotting two men still standing, she set aim and clicked the trigger. Only this time, nothing happened. She popped open the magazine, finding no rounds remaining.
“Well,” she said grimly, “I guess we wait.”
“How many do you think are left?” Erik ventured. His voice cracked mid-sentence.
Alyssa shrugged. “I counted two.”
That’s good, Erik thought. One for each of us.
“But who knows how many are waiting below.”
Erik’s stomach flipped upside down. Each passing minute seemed like an hour as he huddled next to Alyssa in the cockpit, sneaking peeks at the approaching ship. His body shook with anticipation. Would he be able to kill someone in defense, like Alyssa had so easily done? Would he risk losing her because he was too afraid to fight?
A vice gripped Erik’s heart, crushing it once more. He’d already lost Rachael without confessing his true feelings. If he was about to meet his end, he didn’t want to take that chance again. His eyes glistened over, fearing the worst. In desperation, his fingers sought Alyssa’s, squeezing them tightly. Alyssa met his worried gaze.
“If anything should happen,” he began, “I want you to know that–”
She smiled confidently. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen.”
“It’s just that…” Erik frowned as the words got stuck in his throat.
“Nothing.” She returned his squeeze. “I promise.”
He tried to smile back, but it came out as a strained grimace. Alyssa didn’t seem to notice. She released his hand, her attention once again focused on the approaching ship. With his good ear, Erik detected the splashing of water against the hull of the other boat and the purr of the engine’s motor, closing the gap. Quickly, Alyssa reached for one of her bottles, flicking the lighter to ignite the scrap of shirt fabric sticking out the end.
Erik finally understood. She’d assembled a series of firebombs.
Rising to her knees, she launched the flaming bottle over the side of the boat. Erik watched the tongues of fire lap the dark night as the bomb sailed over the water, landing helplessly in the deep, black sea. Alyssa swore under her breath as she lit a second bottle and threw again. This time it splashed a few feet short of the ship, its flames instantly extinguished in the water’s murky depths. With dismay, Erik glanced at the remaining bottles lined neatly in a row. Her supply rapidly dwindled.
When she reached for a third, Erik placed his hand on her wrist, stopping her. “Here. Let me,” he offered. Grabbing the lighter from her, he f
licked it until the T-shirt tail caught fire. Rising to his knees, he cocked his arm and released. The flaming bottle arced across the water, exploding on contact with the intruding boat. A series of panicked shouts in a language Erik didn’t understand followed as the fire traveled up their mainsail halyard.
“Yes!” He exclaimed as he ducked back down, his fist pumping in jubilation. Pleased with himself, he grinned at Alyssa.
“How’d you do that?” She wore an exasperated look upon her face.
Erik shrugged. “I used to play third base.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but readily handed over the rest of the bottles. Adrenaline pumped like hot lava through his veins as Erik launched the last of her firebombs, successfully hitting the cockpit twice. Flames erupted around the boat; the pirates fought madly to extinguish the blazes. They cut the engine, but still approached steadily, flames and all, preparing to board the Golden Sunset.
Alyssa nudged Erik’s arm. With a wink, she advised, “Get ready.”
Erik’s face turned green.
“It won’t be so bad. Just try not to think about it too much.” Smiling in an amused way, Alyssa leaned toward him, suddenly pressing her lips to his mouth. Time slowed to a crawl as her soft lips tenderly touched his. He closed his eyes, wishing to be anywhere but here, on the eve of this forthcoming battle. He yearned to hold her again, finding comfort in their closeness. To feel her heart beating against his chest in energetic bursts, unlike the multitude of silenced ones he’d encountered in the aftermath of 7G. To have her soothing fingers run through his hair, erasing the painful memories forever.
But time was cruel. Alyssa’s lips left his as quickly as they met. She flew to her feet, just as the first pirate leapt across the water, successfully landing on the stern of the Sunset. Alyssa reached inside her pocket, pulling out a knife as she dashed across the cockpit to engage him.
Why didn’t I think of that? Erik wondered as he warily rose, taking in his surroundings. Alyssa was right about one thing: there were more pirates concealed below. With dark faces covered in printed scarves, Erik couldn’t determine their ethnicities. Possibly Middle Eastern or African in descent, he guessed. And he spotted five pirates remaining, making them easily outnumbered. A loud splash off the stern made Erik spin. Alyssa stood alone, waiting for the next to board.
