“I need you to give me a boost,” I said to Ash after a short break, nodding to the bench. “I’ll pull myself up and get the door open so we can get inside.”
“Then what?” Ava asked.
“We get to the other side of the boat as fast as we can.”
Once again, the teens chose to nod rather than respond, but I was too focused on the bench to know if they were terrified or just out of breath.
I twisted my body and shifted so I could place my feet on the thin metal bars behind my back, then stood. It was an awkward angle since we weren’t quite tilted enough for me to stand up straight, but the boat was no longer level, and I found myself in a position halfway between crawling and climbing.
Ash shifted too, positioning himself so he could help me. He laced his hands together in front of him, and I slid my foot in, my arms up and my hands grasping at the slick wooden deck as he lifted me. My fingertips brushed the metal leg of the bench, but it was too far away for me to grab hold of it.
“A little higher,” I called.
Ash grunted and lifted his arms, pushing me toward the bench. My fingertips brushed the leg again, but this time I was able to curl my fingers around it and get a good grip. Once I had, I threw my other hand up and grabbed hold. My foot left Ash’s hand when I pulled, my boots scraping against the slippery deck as I tried to find purchase. I grunted but kept straining. Even with as slick as the floor was, I felt certain my scrambling steps were helping propel me forward.
Finally, I was able to loop my elbow through the leg and haul myself up. I clung to the bench, gasping and limbs shaking, but only took a moment to rest. The boat had shifted even more, and we were now heeling at a dangerous angle. We had to get inside.
I twisted so I was facing the door and stretched my arms out. Reaching the doorknob took almost no effort, and when I turned it, the door flopped open. Thank God it opened out or we would have been screwed. From there, all I had to do was grab hold of the doorframe and pull myself inside, and once I had, I collapsed on the ground—wall, really—panting. My arms ached, screaming from exertion, but I hoped the adrenaline would carry me through a little farther, because I wasn’t done yet.
Two seconds in, and my gaze stopped on the hose. It was inches from my face, mounted to the wall behind a glass window that broke easily when I slammed my foot against it. Careful to avoid the glass, I pulled the hose free, unwinding it as I turned back to the open doorway. Below me, still huddled against the railing, Ash and Ava waited with wide eyes.
I tossed the hose out the door. “Grab hold!”
The clang of metal on metal echoed through the air when it hit, and Ash snatched it up, shoving it toward Ava.
“Go!” he called. “You’re lighter.”
The ship groaned, and somewhere behind me someone shouted. The crash of breaking glass followed, and the thud of things—furniture or other items that weren’t secured to the floor—slamming against the walls followed. We were close to toppling over now. Behind the teens, the water had risen even more. It was so close. It roared but seemed a lot less violent than it had. There was still debris, even more than had been there before, and I recognized more than one of the items floating by, carried away by the rushing water.
Ava wrapped the hose around her stomach twice before grasping it in her hands, and once she was secure, I pulled on it, crying out from the effort of hauling her up. The hose moved, slower than I wanted it to as I put hand over hand, dragging the teen toward me. Soon, a hand grasped the doorframe, and then another, and I dropped the hose so I could scramble forward. I grabbed Ava’s wrists and helped pull her in, falling back with a gasping breath when she dropped to the floor beside me.
“Ash,” she said, pushing herself up a second later.
Together, we dove for the door. Ash already had the hose, his big eyes staring up at us as the water behind him swelled, coming closer with each passing second.
“Pull!” Ava shouted, grabbing the hose.
I did, and we tugged, gasping for breath. Below us, Ash looked toward the swiftly rising water. It was right behind him now.
After a second, he looked back at us and dropped the hose. “Go!”
“No,” Ava cried.
All around us, the boat seemed to shudder and groan.
Ash shook his head. “It’s too late.”
Ava opened her mouth to say something, but it was cut off by the whine of the boat as it gave in to the demands of the river. I barely had time to blink before a wave of murky water swept over the railing Ash was kneeling on, sweeping him under and carrying him from sight.
“No!” Ava screamed.
I was shaking, but that didn’t stop me from grabbing her and pulling her away from the open door. The water would be here soon. We had minutes, maybe less.
“Follow me!”
13
I stood, pulling Ava with me, and managed to get my hand around the doorknob of the stateroom in front of me. I turned it and shoved the door as hard as I could in hopes of getting it to open, but all my first attempt did was move the door a few inches before it once again slammed shut. I took a deep breath, preparing myself to put everything I had into it, and tried again, this time shoving the door hard enough that it flew open, stopping halfway when it slammed into some unseen piece of furniture.
“Up,” I yelled at Ava, waving to the open doorway.
She grabbed the frame and pulled herself up while I stood behind her, pushing until she’d disappeared inside. The second she was in, I grabbed hold and pulled myself in behind her.
Once inside, I paused to look back, gasping and shaking at the sight in front of me. Water was seeping into the hall we’d just fled.
I spun back to face the room.
It was in total disarray. Some of the furniture had been secured to the floor and was still in place—the bed, for one—but everything that hadn’t been now littered what had once been the wall in broken piles.
“Up!” I shouted, hauling myself onto the mounds of now useless items.
We had to use the debris to our advantage to get away, and so I climbed, pulling myself over the items now lying scattered around the room, then hauling myself higher using the bed. It was like scaling a mountain. Kind of.
The rush of water had gotten louder, but I refused to look back unless it was to make sure Ava was doing okay. She had followed my lead and was pulling herself up behind me. We were almost there. All we had to do was make it to the other side of the room, and we’d be able to climb out the window. Then we’d be okay.
At least I hoped so.
We reached the window, and I had to brace myself between the wall and a dresser as I strained to get it open. At my back, Ava gasped for breath as the water got closer. I could hear it, could feel the occasional sprinkle of moisture, but I refused to look back, instead focusing on getting the window open.
When it finally slid up, I almost let out a shout of joy. I turned back, my hand out and ready to grab Ava, and froze at the sight of the water only inches behind her.
The teen followed my gaze, her eyes wide.
“Don’t look at it,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Just climb. Now.”
She nodded and obeyed when I pulled her up. I shoved her forward, helping to push her out through the window, and once she was through, I pulled myself after her.
Rain pelted me in the face as I plopped down at Ava’s side. The sun was still obscured by the clouds, but it was brighter than it had been earlier. We were in calmer water, too, having been pushed back down the river. I couldn’t see the river from where I was, but I could tell it wasn’t as violent here by how much quieter it had gotten.
“I can’t believe that happened,” Ava said.
I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the swell of water, the boat listing to the side, or Ash getting swept away by the river. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but we couldn’t have done anything.”
She swallowed, nodding.
I rolled to sit up, looking
around as I did. The boat was now completely on its side, and there wasn’t another person in sight.
My chest tightened, but I worked hard to focus on what we had to do next instead of thinking about what might have happened to Kellan. The most important thing at the moment was to figure out how to get to land as fast as possible once we did end up in the water. I knew it would happen. Most of the boat was already underwater, and with all the rain we’d been getting, the river levels had risen dangerously. It was going to swallow us, and Ava and I had to be ready.
I twisted to face her. “We’re going to go down, and when we do, I want you to do everything you can to get to shore. Understand?”
Ava’s eyes were wide when she nodded.
“There will be debris, but if we’re lucky most of it will have swept farther down the river by then. We’re already in calmer waters, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be rough. You’re going to have to put everything into it. You’re going to have to fight. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” Ava swallowed, her gaze moving past me to the distant shore.
I turned to look as well, watching as old buildings, long ago swallowed by nature, flew past. We were near a city, and I struggled to remember the map I’d looked at only a few days ago when we talked to the captain. Little Rock, maybe? We were supposed to have passed it in the night, and since the river pushed us back the way we’d come, it was possible we’d ended up back there.
“What happens once we get to shore?” Ava asked, drawing my attention back to her.
“We stick to the river.” I swallowed when emotion squeezed my throat. “Anyone else who makes it off the boat will do the same, so it’s possible if we stick to the river, we’ll eventually run into someone else.”
At least that was what I was praying would happen.
I moved to the edge of the boat and got on my knees so I could get a better look around. Like I’d thought, the water was calmer, but we were still being carried downstream. The water level was only a few feet below us, meaning we’d be completely underwater very soon.
The city I suspected was Little Rock was a little behind us now, but that wasn’t what I was focused on. I was looking at the riverbank, trying to gauge how difficult it would be to climb up—assuming we could fight against the current and get there. It was steep but rocky and covered in foliage, which we might be able to use to pull ourselves up.
The ship creaked beneath us, and Ava grabbed my arm. Her eyes were wide, her hair wet and plastered to her face as rain continued to pound down on us. I’d been so focused on surviving that I’d barely noticed my wet clothes, but now, as the river rose higher with each passing second, I realized how weighed down they felt. It was lucky I’d thought to put my boots on when I left our stateroom, but they would be a disadvantage once I was in the river.
“When you get in the water,” I yelled over the roar, “kick your feet as hard as you can. Don’t give up no matter how tired you feel. Your clothes are going to drag you under if you don’t fight. Understand?”
Ava nodded but said nothing.
Another groan filled the silence following my statement, and beneath us the boat shuddered. Water lapped up over the side in front of us, and I stood, grabbing Ava’s arm and pulling her back. My gaze stayed glued to the water as I moved, walking backward, trying to get to the middle of the boat where we’d be able to stay out of the water longer. More sloshed over the side, coming closer to us. Soon, most of the boat was covered, and I began to brace myself for what came next. This was it. Sink or swim. Literally.
The boat seemed to disappear in seconds, and the river rose to suck us down. The comfort of having something solid beneath my feet was swept away, and the water swirling around me made it impossible to hold on to Ava. I let go, losing her as she was pulled under. Kicking and using my arms, I did my best to force my body to stay up as I scanned the murky water for her. Once she bobbed to the surface, not too far from me, but then I was pulled under, and I lost her again as I fought against the current trying to drown me.
Kick. I had to kick.
I did, propelling myself up until my head broke the surface. Gasping, I filled my lungs and kicked harder while I swung my arms, my gaze focused on the bank of the river. Kick, swing. Kick, swing. I could do it. I could make it.
Water lapped up over my head, pushing me down until the chilly river had engulfed me once again. I fought against the murky prison, kicking my legs and flailing my arms in an attempt to propel myself up. Seconds later, I broke through, resurfacing with a gasp as I filled my lungs.
The roar of the water was too loud for me to know if Ava was anywhere nearby, maybe calling out to me, but I scanned the area as the river tossed me around anyway, hoping to catch sight of her. A short distance from me, a wooden chair I recognized from the bar bobbed before being pulled under. There were other things, too. A mattress, a lampshade, what might have been a rug. I thought I saw an arm reach up out of the water, and I kicked, swimming toward it on instinct despite the fact that I’d told Ava to head to shore. I couldn’t help it. She was so young, and she was alone, and it was instinct to help her.
When I got close to where I’d thought I saw the arm, I reached for it, treading water with great difficulty. My heavy clothes were weighing me down, making it feel like I was dragging weights behind me. When my hand touched something soft and fleshy, I wrapped my fingers around it, pulling before my brain had time to register how mushy the skin was.
A putrid head surfaced in front of me, teeth already chomping, and my hand slid along the arm, the rotting skin giving way to bone before I’d had a chance to release it. I let go with a shriek, but the zombie had already seen me. Never before had I considered that these things might have been able to swim, but there must have been some part of the thing’s decaying mind that remembered to kick its legs and thrash its arms, because it moved closer instead of away.
I lashed out, slamming my boot into its stomach and pushing it back. Doing so sent me back as well, and I was once again swallowed by the river. My mouth filled with water, and I kicked again, harder this time, breaking the surface only seconds later. I spit the water out, but the taste of dirt still filled my mouth, and sandy particles crunched between my teeth when I gritted them.
I was still looking for Ava when I kicked, heading for the shore. The water continued pushing me downstream, but I put every ounce of energy I had into fighting it, pulling myself toward land with my arms while my feet kicked. Before long, my boot hit solid ground, and I reached forward, grasping at underwater plants and using them as handholds so I could pull myself forward.
I was soon half out, the water only up to my waist, and then I stumbled a few more steps and collapsed in the mud, free of the river except for my legs, which were almost too tired to carry me any farther. Instead of trying to stand, I pulled myself forward with my hands, my fingers sinking into mud, rocks scraping against my arms and stomach. I didn’t care, not as long as I made it to safety.
When I was finally out of the river, I rolled onto my back, gasping for breath and staring up at the sky. The rain had slowed but hadn’t stopped completely, and despite the clouds clogging the sky, here and there a sliver of blue was visible. The sun managed to penetrate the gloom, making me squint.
I’d made it. I was alive.
The relief was bittersweet, because I had no idea if anyone else had made it. Even if they had, I didn’t know where they were or if I’d ever find them.
Still, I had a feeling, deep in my gut, that Kellan was okay. Maybe it was only wishful thinking, I didn’t know, but I felt certain if he were dead, I’d know it. That I’d be able to feel it with every inch of my being.
Something scraped against the ground behind me, and I shot to a sitting position, my hand already on the knife at my belt. When I spotted her, standing five feet away and soaking wet, her shoulders heaving with the effort of filling her lungs, I almost laughed.
“Ava.” I dropped my hand and sank back to the ground. “I
thought I’d lost you.”
“I did what you said,” she replied between gasps. “I swam for the shore.”
“Good girl,” I said.
She dropped at my side. “What now?”
I shook my head as I ran my hand through my soaking hair, brushing it back and then twisting it. A waterfall dropped to the ground, splashing against the damp earth beneath me. I was scanning the area, barely realizing what I was doing. Across the river, the city I’d seen loomed in the distance, but we’d passed it by a lot. Several miles. Plus, we were on the wrong side. It was something I hadn’t thought about before we were thrown into the river.
“We’re going to have to cross.” My gaze moved farther, stopping on a bridge. It was impossible to gauge the distance, but it wasn’t close. Maybe, if we were lucky, we’d make it there before dark. We were pretty worn out, and most likely we’d have to find shelter on this side of the river.
We were also going to need supplies. Food and water, if nothing else.
“Are you armed?” I asked Ava as I dragged myself to my feet.
She followed my lead, patting her hip once she was up. “Yes.”
“Good.” That was something, at least. “We should get moving. If luck is on our side we’ll get lucky and find a good place to hole up for the night.”
14
The trek up the bank to higher ground was rough. The rain had saturated the ground, making it soft and slippery under our feet. Even worse was how heavy our clothes were. I felt like I was dragging half the river with me as we climbed, but determination won out over the many hurdles in our path, and before long, we’d made it to the top.
Sometime during the climb, the rain had eased off and my hair had started to dry in places, making it a combination of wispy tendrils that tickled my face and matted clumps that made me cringe when I ran my fingers through them. It was hot despite the still dark clouds clogging the sky, hiding the sun from view, and I did my best to twist the thick rope of damp hair into a messy clump that was somewhere between a bun and a ponytail while I looked around.
The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 70
