by M H Ryan
“Sorry, Cass,” I said. “I can’t leave you here alone; it’s not safe.”
“And you can’t force me to go, either,” Cass said, folding her arms.
“I know you’re having a tough time, and I’m trying to be understanding of your feelings, but if you stay here, things like that bird could decide to make a visit. Or the cats from Food Island.”
“Or the boars,” Sherri said. “Used to be a colony here.”
“Or the crocs,” Aubrey said. “They laid eggs in the forest, you know?”
“Fine, I’m going,” Cass relented.
“Good, we’ll be happy to have you,” I said.
“There’s something in the water,” Sherri said.
In the shallow waves, our sea cat emerged from the ocean. She held a fish in her mouth that looked about half the size of her cat body. I sensed happiness and satisfaction from her. Moshe was glad to have caught something and happy to see us.
Moshe hadn’t taken to well to our mostly vegetarian diet. She carried the fish to the green ferns and dropped it. Then she tore into its flesh, pulling out chunks from it.
“Gross, Moshe,” Benji said.
The cat glanced back at us, giving us a bloody grin as it chewed on the fish flesh.
“We need Moshe to teach us how to fish,” Kara said.
“No luck on the pole?” I asked.
“Nope,” Kara said, walking to the stick in the ground with a fish line running out into the ocean.
That pole hadn’t bent in the last few days, and I was planning on trying something different.
“I bet it’s the bait,” Aubrey said. “The fish must not eat those slug things we find in the forest.”
“Yeah, or they just don’t have the proper motivation,” I said.
The slugs were one of the small creatures we found on the island. There were a few insects, a black bug that appeared to be some kind of beetle. One day, we spotted what looked like a bumble bee, but it buzzed away before we could study it.
What I was really thinking about, though, was Danforth. I reread his journal last night, and he seemed to find a way to catch the fish with his mind. I had an idea of what he did and intended on trying it.
“Okay, let’s get every supply we can comfortably fit on this raft and get out of here today,” I said.
The girls gave me nods of acknowledgment, and Sherri saluted, saying “Aye, aye, Captain!” Which felt appropriate, with her attire. Most of them were back off to the camp in seconds. I heard yelling about who was getting what, but I stayed behind, as did Cass.
“Is it really that dangerous out there?” she asked, gazing into the waters.
“Yes,” I said. “Just make sure you stay near the middle of the raft and keep your wits about. Has anyone showed you how to use a weapon yet?” I asked.
“Yes.” Cass rolled her eyes. “Sherri is like a militant leader out here.”
“Good, because we’re going to need you out there, Cass. We’re rescuing another girl. One of your sisters.”
“Yeah, I know. Just hard to believe, I guess, until you see it.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” I said. “But most of the time, we encounter something out there.”
“Can you really feel the animals in the sea?” Cass asked.
“Yes, and any animal, for that matter. In fact, the only living thing I haven’t felt is women.”
“We’re too mysterious even for a superpower,” she said with a smile, one of the first I’d seen.
“Hey, you want to see to believe, right?” I said and walked to the fishing pole. “When we were searching for you, we found this crazy cave with a dead pilot in it—”
“Yes, I’ve heard about it from them,” she said, looking skeptical.
“Well, he had an ability like mine, but he got powerful with it,” I said as she gave me a side eye. “Okay, fine. Let me try something and see if it works. Grab the pole.”
“I don’t know how to fish,” she said.
“Apparently, none of us do,” I said. Eliza actually had many fishing plans, but none of them involved a fishing line and pole. She wanted to build traps. “Pull that pole from the stand and hold onto it. I’m going to try to get a fish on the line.”
“Like, with your mind power?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she said and shrugged. “This should be good.”
“If you feel a pull on the line, yank back on the pole,” I said.
Cass, still looking skeptical, pulled the pole out of the sand. Moshe had eaten her fill on the fish she caught and sat next to me, licking her paws and wiping the gore from her face.
“We’ll catch one too, Moshe,” I said. “You’ll see.”
She looked up and meowed. Moshe and I had become closer over the last few days. She had become a subject of mine as I tested my powers. I had been giving her the simple idea that the chickens were not only her friends but her family and she would protect them with her life if needed. Right then though, she just eyed me with little confidence.
“Another skeptic,” I said, shaking my head, and then reached out with my senses into the ocean. “I’m going to try and get a fish on the line. Get ready.”
Cass let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a huff and a laugh.
As usual, I felt the static in the ocean, but I had been practicing. I pushed harder and found I could separate the noise and find a single tone. A smaller fish, maybe a sea bass. I concentrated on the fish. Its thoughts were based on food, for the most part, as it swam near our line. Taking a deep breath, I squinted and sent the idea that the slug would be the perfect thing to eat. It seemed disgusted by the idea, but I pushed harder, and its simple mind quickly took to it as fact. I felt it searching and then exhilaration poured from it as it spotted the dead slug floating in the water. It bit and pulled.
“Whoa,” Cass said.
“Pull back,” I said, opening my eyes.
She yanked back on the pole, shaking it frantically. “What do I do?”
“Walk backward, slowly.”
“It’s not a shark is it?”
“No,” I said, laughing.
Moshe went to the shoreline, interested in what we were doing. I got next to Cass and touched the line with my hand, feeling the tension.
“It’s huge,” Cass said, pulling on the pole.
It wasn’t.
“Just keep walking back,” I said.
Cass walked backward, getting close to the edge of the forest before the fish jumped from the shallow water and flopped on the sand as the wave retreated. Moshe moved toward it.
“No, Moshe, this is ours,” I said, rushing to the fish.
It looked like a sea bass, but I made sure it didn’t have shark teeth before stuffing my fingers in its mouth and pulling the hook free. Then I picked it up by the gills and held it out.
“Come on, see what you caught,” I said.
Cass came running with a pole in hand. “Oh my God, I caught that. None of you could catch it, but I did.” She jumped up and down, excited.
“Yeah, good job,” I said, and raised my free hand to give her a high five.
She slapped my hand and then stared at the fish. “What do we do with it?”
“Typically the person who catches it cleans it,” I said.
Her eyes went wide in terror.
“I’ll clean it,” I said, laughing.
“Oh, good,” she exhaled.
Benji and Sherri came running up with handfuls of weapons, another area in which we had made drastic improvements. Now we had ax weapons. Also, the spears and arrows had stone tips that were razor sharp. Plus, they looked badass. Kara and Benji had been in charge of the weapons makings and they were just incredible. Benji seemed magical with a rock in her hands.
“You guys caught a fish?” Benji said, eyeing the thing in my hand.
“I did,” Cass said. “Jack here had his eyes closed the whole time.”
Benji’s gaze narrowed on me. “
Did he?”
“I’ll clean this up. It isn’t much, but it’s some protein,” I said.
“Mango fish,” Benji said, eyes going wide open. “I know a perfect recipe.”
Benji rushed to the raft and threw the spears onto the deck.
Chapter 6
The raft was loaded with most of our supplies. I took a quick inventory, making sure what wasn’t strapped down was in the shack. One of the aluminum plane panels we took from Cave Island, we turned into a cooking sheet of sorts. We bent the sides up and used it to cook some of our veggies and now our fish. It couldn’t hold soup, but it was a heck of a lot better than a rock.
Moshe rubbed against my leg. I sensed her anxiety. She knew we were leaving and the chickens weren’t on board.
“Moshe, you’re staying on the island,” I said, reinforcing the idea that she had to defend the chickens on the island.
We thought about bringing them, but they hadn’t produced a single egg yet, and Benji thought they had been too stressed since the last trip to be anything of use. We built them a small chicken coop, but really, it would be up to Moshe to defend the island for them. Hopefully, by the time we got back, they’d be happy egg-producing chickens.
Moshe meowed, as if acknowledging my thought to protect the chickens. Some of the girls expressed concern about leaving such a valuable asset behind, but Eliza had when she came to find us. The chickens were survivors, much like us. With the help of Moshe, I had high hopes they would make it. Besides, we had greater things to worry over, like the idea of crossing the ocean once again.
The girls seemed just as nervous as Moshe, and most of them held weapons, looking out at the ocean. They had every right to feel that way. More times than not, we had been attacked by the sea. Creatures of all types seemed to want us dead. Aubrey had said once that every time we go out, we risk our lives and either get lucky or get dead. When was the luck going to run out? I had to make sure that never happened, even if it meant risking myself. Nothing could be allowed to happen to these amazing women.
“What are these handles for?” Cass asked, putting her foot inside one of the rope loops attached to the floor.
“Those are our oh-shit grips,” Aubrey said. “Just keep your arms and legs inside the craft at all times, and you should be fine.”
“If we get topsy-turvy, just grab onto one of those and hold on,” Benji said.
“Topsy-turvy?” Cass asked.
“You’ll definitely fucking know when it’s time grab one of those, because you be calling those grips by name,” Aubrey said.
“Oh shit!” Kara called out, laughing.
“Okay, looks like we got all the essentials,” I said.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Sherri said, and saluted.
I smiled and nodded my head. “Let’s shove off then. Benji, can you set the jib?”
It wasn’t exactly a jib, but it was the emergency blanket we had previously used as the mainsail. Now, it was the sail below the mainsail, on the same mast. Benji went to it, and with Aubrey’s help, pulled up the sail. The breeze pushed against the sail, and it stiffened. The boat moved ahead, picking up a small amount of speed.
We made the mainsail a bit different from the jib. The jib was more or less a square surface held up by two horizontal sticks. On the smaller, lighter raft, it worked well. But this big boat needed a big sail. We also wanted it to be adjustable, so we didn’t get blown off course like we did when we were escaping Snake Island.
None of us knew that much about sailing, but we knew that a triangular sail would be easier to manage and deploy. Thankfully, when we took the parachute pack apart, it was as good as new. I wouldn’t have jumped from a plane with it, but it worked great as fabric for the sail. Kara knew about sewing and such and was happy to show us how to sew up the holes in the chute. At night, while we were around the fire, we all had the parachute on our laps, sewing up the holes with a piece of rope we took apart down to just a few threads. We used the fishing hooks as needles and created an island sewing circle.
Up the mast, the sail was tied off at various points going up. We had a parachute rope running up to near the top of the mast and then down along the chute. That rope then attached to a boom that held the chute against the mast. When we untied the rope, we could lower the sail down and open it up, much like a handheld fan. When we wanted to close the sail, we could pull the rope back up and close it against the mast and tie off the line to the deck.
I just hoped it all worked.
One thing about a large craft is that it goes through the small waves like nothing. Soon, we were out into the open, calmer waters.
“Should we give it a go?” Sherri asked, looking at the mainsail.
“We didn’t come out here for suntans,” I said. “Take the line down slowly and be careful— a gust of wind might rip the rope right out of your hands. Cass, you want to do it?”
“Me?” Cass asked, looking confused. “I’m not ready for that.” She stood next to the shack at the middle of the boat, holding onto it like a husband going off to war.
“I got it,” Sherri said. “I’ve got the strongest grip here anyway.”
“Oh really?” Aubrey said, getting below the boom rope on the other side.
“Yeah,” Sherri said and then flexed.
“Those legs might be stronger, but you’re looking at an all-around here, girlie.” Aubrey flexed, and I had to admit, she looked stronger in the upper body department. She even flexed her stomach, emphasizing her six-pack abs. Good God was she hot.
“We’re arm wrestling once we’re out on the waters,” Sherri said, continuing the friendly conversation.
Sherri got the rope untied and slowly let out slack, one hand over the other, so it didn’t slide through her hands. The boom, tight against the mast, began to lower, and Aubrey grabbed the rope leading out from the end of the boom.
The parachute fluttered as the wind caught it.
“Whoa,” Sherri said, the rope pulling her up, almost off her feet.
I left the rudder, running to her, but Kara got to her first and grabbed the rope below Sherri. I jumped in, grabbing the line above her and pulled it toward me. The rope heaved forward, in spite of all our weight on the other end.
“Okay, we’re going to move it slowly down. Always have one hand tightly on the rope,” I said.
This could go bad with one strong gust of wind. I let go with one hand and let the boom pull more of the rope. Eliza and Benji went to Aubrey’s side of the boat and helped her with her line. Cass clutched the center shack, watching in terror.
I eased the rope out, and we got into a good rhythm. The boom went all the way down at a right angle, and Kara tied off our lines to the deck.
“We’re good,” I yelled over to Aubrey.
Eliza tied their end off to the deck, and we all stepped away from the ropes as if we had just put a cobra in a basket.
“Holy shit,” Sherri said, staring at the mainsail, and raised a fist in triumph. “That was awesome!”
The white fabric tightened against the breeze, and I heard the boat creaking as the pressure pulled at the mast. The sail and the lines attached to it tightened, and the raft picked up speed.
I rushed back to the rudder, excited to see the sail working. We needed to make some adjustments, so we didn’t almost die when we set the sail, but it worked.
The raft cut through the water at a speed we’d never come close to achieving on our own. Sherri walked back toward me, admiring the sail.
“Nicely done,” I said.
“I’m in shock,” Sherri said. “I mean, we built this.” She rubbed her palm with her thumb.
“You okay?” I asked. “Let me see your hand.”
Sherri got close to me and showed me her hand. Her palms were red, but the rope hadn’t broken the skin.
“Just hurts a little,” she said. “No biggie.”
I kissed her palm softly.
“You kissing boo-boos now?” Sherri said.
�
��My hand hurts as well,” Aubrey said, extending her hand to me.
I laughed and looked at her hand. Her hand actually looked worse. She might have a blister forming. I kissed it, and she sucked in a breath.
“You know, I had that rope between my legs as well,” Aubrey said, putting her hand at the waistline of her short shorts. “Might need some kissing elsewhere.”
“Oh my God, Aubrey,” Benji said, standing a few feet behind her.
“He’s passing out boo-boo kisses. I’m not missing an opportunity,” Aubrey said. “And if you had the kind of kisses he gives, you wouldn’t either.”
“Be careful with that hand. It might blister,” I said.
“Please, you don’t get these muscles from lifting air,” Aubrey said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Shark!” Eliza yelled out.
Shit, I hadn’t been searching for them during this whole sail launching. I reached out and felt them. There were five of them surrounding our boat. One common emotion among them is they wanted to not just kill and eat us, but shred us apart.
Chapter 7
“It’s the mako sharks,” Sherri said, looking over the wall that surrounded the boat.
Benji grabbed her bow and arrows. Eliza picked an ax, while the rest of the girls opted for a spear. Cass remained in her spot, nervously watching the shark fins cutting through the water.
“I’ll try to get rid of them,” I said and closed my eyes, feeling for them. Hey, if it worked from some sea bass, why not a shark?
A big male in the group dominated what I felt. The others were females. They were taking his lead. If I could get rid of the male, they’d follow. I closed my eyes tight and sent a thought to the male, telling him he needed to leave and that we weren’t to be bothered.
A crackling sound smashed into me and I swayed, gripping the rudder tight to keep from falling overboard.
What the hell was that?
I reached out to the shark again to see if it worked. Nothing had changed. It had the same emotions: capturing and consuming the prey, which in this case was us. My influence didn’t work, and now my head pulsed with pain. Grabbing a simple sea bass had been easy, but this thing felt like trying to push against a Mack truck. I wasn’t strong enough.
