I was lying in the berth of the cabin, my arms draped over my head as I tried to resist the feelings of seasickness and terror coursing through my body. As accustomed as I was to cruising, I had never been on a ship during weather like this and I was not responding well to the behavior of the water. This was not nearly as much fun as lounging by the pool or watching the gaudy shows at night. I wished that there was a cruise director I could complain to, but at that moment the only one controlling what was happening was a little bit more powerful than the captain of the cruise, so I didn’t think that putting in a formal complaint would be a very good idea. The sound of the storm outside was deafening and I reached for a pillow to hold around my ears to try to muffle it. I felt like I should be crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was as if I had cried so much over so many things that my body was simply unwilling to go through the motions any more. It was in protest.
The rocking of the ship was so intense that I felt like it would toss me onto the floor at any moment. This couldn’t be the only storm that had ever been like this and I didn’t see any sign of a seatbelt to hold me in place on the bed. I didn’t understand how anyone could get any kind of rest in this place if they spent more than a couple of hours aboard. Almost as suddenly as the storm had come on, though, it began to calm down. The shaking of the boat slowed and then nearly stilled. I wanted to get up to find out if the men had gotten through the storm safely, but I couldn’t bring myself to climb out of my place. It was almost as though I was positive that if my feet hit the floor of the cabin, I was going to find out that it was all just a cruel trick of the storm and it was going to start up again. Without even removing the pillow that I had used to muffle the deafening noise of the storm, I let my eyes close, and soon fell asleep.
I felt like I was no longer in control of my body. Awareness seemed to wash over me for a few moments at a time, but never close enough that I could actually latch onto it and let it drag me up into full consciousness. I woke suddenly, gasping for breath, feeling like the water had seeped into the cabin and risen up over the berth to swallow me. My hands clawed at the pillow and I desperately breathed in the salty air, relieved that it had only been my imagination that made me feel like I was drowning. As soon as my lungs filled, the darkness took over again and I fell back to sleep, my pillow on the floor now so that it couldn’t try to smother me again.
The next time I awoke, I could hear what sounded like screaming. I felt too afraid to move. The boat tossed violently and I realized that the brief moment of quiet before I first fell asleep was just the eye of the storm. It wasn’t over. In fact, now it seemed even more intense than it had been before. Now the wind was whipping around the cabin with a terrifying ferocity. The wind beating against the fiberglass was sharp and loud, combining with the screams until all the noise combined into a chaotic dissonance that reverberated through my mind. I wanted to investigate the screaming, but I couldn't force my body to budge. As the darkness started to dim the edges of my mind again, I briefly wondered whether there was truly a scream at all or if it was just the harshness of the wind.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when a sudden jolt woke me from a deep, dreamless sleep. The boat was finally calm, and relief poured over me as I realized that the storm had truly passed this time and we were, at least in terms of being sucked down into the waves, safe. I didn't want to move. Outside, the world was deadly silent, and I wasn't ready to face the potential array of horrifying scenes that might be awaiting me outside of the cabin. I was very aware that neither of the men had come into the cabin during the night, which meant that unless there was some hidden Batman-style cabin somewhere else on the boat, they had weathered the storm out on the deck. With as aggressive as the wind and sea had felt from within the protection of the cabin, I couldn’t imagine what it had been like to actually be outside, exposed to it all, and was afraid that they might not have gotten through it.
The boat stopped moving and once again I could hear the individual waves breaking against the hull. They were far calmer now, almost like they were trying to soothe the boat after the assault. The analogy sent an all-too familiar shudder through me and I forced the thought out of my mind. After lying awake for a few minutes, curiosity finally overpowered my fear and I carefully moved off of the berth and started toward the cabin door. I paused again when I reached the door, hesitating to step out onto the deck. I didn't know what I was going to find there; or what I might not find. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Ahead of me I saw the back corner of the boat crushed and tattered, pieces of the wood drifting away with the water.
"Oh, shit."
As soon as I heard Gavin cursing, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It wasn’t the most delightful of early-morning greetings, but spewing profanity required being alive, so I was willing to go with it. I climbed up the rest of the way out of the cabin and rushed toward the sound of his voice. He was on the other side of the boat, crouched beside Hunter where he lay slumped on the deck. I ran toward them and dropped to my knees beside the prone man, my heart pounding in my chest.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked frantically. "Is he…"
"He's not dead," Gavin said, taking his fingers away from Hunter's neck where he had had them pressed to his pulse point. "I woke up and found him like this. He must have blacked out, but he's alive."
"Where are we?" I asked.
I straightened and looked out over the edge of the boat. The small vessel was stopped a few yards away from a sandy beach. Branches and leaves scattered across the pale sand told me that the storm had hit here was well, but I was grateful to see dry land. I wouldn’t be planning another cruise any time soon.
Gavin was unlatching Hunter from the harness that held him in place and didn't look up.
"My navigation system is destroyed. I can't tell where we are."
"Apparently, we’re at the beach," I said, too tired to laugh at my own bad joke.
I glanced down and watched Gavin straighten Hunter out so that he was lying on his back rather than being curled partially on his side. Water dribbled from the corner of his mouth and he made a gurgling sound in his throat before choking and gasping for breath. Gavin lifted him up by his shoulders and Hunter coughed out more water before finally drawing in a deep breath.
"Are you alright?" I asked, leaning down to look at him.
Hunter's eyes lifted to mine and he stared at me for a few seconds, but I couldn't decipher the emotion in the look. Without answering me, he pushed himself up off of the deck and stood shakily, gripping the side of the boat for stability. He gazed out over the side just as I had, his eyes locked on the beach.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That seems to be the general consensus about our current situation.”
I heard a grinding sound and looked up to see Gavin trying to start the boat again. He shook his head, tried again, and then kicked the wall.
Well, good. I’m glad to see that he utilizes only the most advanced mechanical techniques.
"The engine's shot. No engine. No navigation system. No communication." He gestured toward the destroyed portion of their boat. "The boat is destroyed. What in the sweet fuck are we supposed to do now?"
"This island isn’t too far away from the course of the cruise ship. It can’t be. We haven’t been sailing for that long. It’s probably one of the ones that the ships stop on. If we go around to the other side, I’m sure we'll find other people and they can help us," Hunter said.
Despite some shakiness in his voice, he sounded strong and in control, and I felt myself wanting to trust him even though the thought of giving my trust to anyone right now after being so relentlessly pursued by anonymous killers was terrifying. Hunter made his way to the hatch on the back of the boat and forced it open. I watched him climb down and realized that the sandbar where we had crashed was high enough that his head was still visible as he made his way toward the water in front of us. I followed, making my way gingerly down the ladder and into the inches of water. The sand sank and slipped beneath my feet, and for the first time I realized that I no longer had my shoes.
"Oh, dammit!" I exclaimed. "I lost my shoes."
"That is really at the bottom of our priority list right now, Eleanor, and besides, I really don't think that five-inch spikes are best option for wading through the ocean, or all that appropriate for a woman…”
He hesitated, but I knew exactly what was on the tip of his tongue.