A strike of lightning blinded us for an instant, followed by the deep rumble of thunder. The clouds opened up an instant later, washing us down in icy rain. More lightning followed. The ocean rocked us as the wind started picking up. It seemed as if it had no fixed direction to go, pushing at us from one side before hitting us with another. Or maybe it was our raft that was spinning around like a disco ball. With the clouds hiding the stars, oceans both above and below us, it was impossible to tell. All I knew is that we were right in the middle of it.
Another lightning strike hit close by, making me glad we’d taken the time to take out the heavier parts of the tail, the ones made of metal and alloy. Yes, using wood and plastic for most of the construction had been a very smart move on our parts. Lightning was a big part of how we wound up here in the first place.
It felt as if we were witnessing a contest between the ocean and sky. The thunder roared as its winds pushed down on the watery surface. The ocean gave back as hard as it got, pulsing and pushing upwards. Caught between Mother Nature’s erratic spawns, our tiny raft felt like an unhinged rollercoaster cart. But there was no track to guide us, no safety bar to hold us in the vessel. Only a flimsy floor on which we rode the beasts of beasts—the ocean itself.
It was like crossing the island barrier all over again. I was paddling left and right, doing my best to take each wave upfront. Though these waves weren’t as big as the ones from this morning, the rain in my eyes and dim light made the task difficult, to say nothing of the saltwater spraying up and blinding me.
Something groaned beneath my feet as we lurched to the right side, but I didn’t have time to look at the disturbance. A large wave threatened to topple us from the left. I pushed on the right oar and tugged on the left, fighting to place us at that perpendicular angle again. Balance was everything.
Mere seconds later, Killian did what I couldn’t do. He got to his feet and checked the bindings. I urged him to be cautious but the winds swallowed my voice.
Once we’d made it over the wave, I prepared for the next one. A glance to the side showed that Killian was trying to reattach the elevator flap we’d placed under the raft as our fin keel. It must have taken a lot of abuse this morning; it fought hard to escape. I was an idiot not to have checked on it earlier when the ocean surface was flat and there was daylight enough to see. Well, duly noted now, I thought sarcastically.
The angry ocean continued rocking us back and forth. I couldn’t keep checking on Killian’s progress if I wanted to keep my full attention on the threatening waves. I used the frequent lightning bolts to look out for oncoming threats.
Killian’s voice came at me, distorted by the howling winds. I chanced a glance at him and saw that he was returning to his spot on the side of the boat. He looked defeated. I didn’t need to ask what that meant. We’d lost the fin.
I wouldn’t have needed him to tell me that anyway. I felt its absence the second we crashed through the next wave. My aim had been good, but the water rocked us more than it should have as we hit the wave’s highest point. As it toppled over to the other side, I called out to Killian to hold on. I fought hard to keep us level. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like the storm was quieting down. The lightning bolts were less frequent, the thunder more distant.
I turned back to Killian to share the good news, but couldn’t find him. My arms turned to lead as my heart rate picked up. He’d been thrown overboard.
30. FLIGHT FOR LIFE
The water was colder than anything I’d ever experienced. I was single-malt scotch poured over ice cubes, crushed beneath them while someone shook the tumbler. Relentless waves came at me, hitting me in the face, submersing me again and again. Each time it got harder to stay afloat.
How long had I been in the drain? It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two but the raft was growing already smaller in the distance. Time was but a foreign notion. Another thing crushed at the bottom of the tumbler beneath the mighty ice. A figment in the lesser sense and a God in the greater.
Swimming was out of the question. Strong waves and treacherous currents were in league against me, teaming up to drown me. As it was, keeping my head above water took all my strength. A large wave, higher than her brothers and sisters, came right at me. There was nothing I could do.
It swallowed me whole, rocking me backward into an ocean of blue and black, hot spikes of ice piercing my skin. Someone had turned the tumbler upside down, making the ice cubes shake. The impact as they hit each other was a cavernous roar.
Eyes burning, limbs on icy fire, I fought as hard as I could to return to the surface. The journey was arduous, an ordeal within an ordeal. The undercurrent pushed me in one direction, the waves in another. But I kept on fighting. Kicking with my legs, stabbing at the surrounding blackness with my arms, searching for precious air. My left arm found it and so I moved in that direction, squeezing myself through the mousse gap that led to freedom.
Air… Cold, crisp, fresh air arose to greet me. Not any warmer than its aqueous friend, but at least I was able to synthesize its energy into life. I swallowed as much as I could, gasping as it burned on the way down, much like whiskey would. I wanted to shout to the angry skies that I wasn’t giving up. I’d fight on, right to the last drop.
I… I wanted to live.
After everything, I’d been through—we’d been through, Anne-Marie and I—we were worth this life and more. Something deep within me uncoiled at that thought. Freed at long last, the realisation dawned on me that I wanted to live.
What for? I had no idea. That was a question for later. For now, the thought was enough. The will was enough. And so I kept fighting to stay afloat.
The boat was far but in sight, Anne-Marie still safely onboard. She’d gotten to her knees by the side, reaching out her hand to me. Her curly hair was untied, beating down on her fear-stricken face. I could see her mouth moving, screaming my name. But the waves were fighting me back, making sure to drown out her words of encouragement.
I tried to swim to her. I truly did. But the cold was settling in, numbing everything it touched. My arms first. Then my legs. It made every kick harder than the one before. I started to wonder how long I had until those frosty tendrils reached my heart… numbed it too.
Another wave hit me, making me lose sight of the boat again. I went under, making my lungs scream in protest, burning in their desperation for air. And I couldn’t give it to them. I didn’t have the strength anymore. My arms and legs had finally turned to ice.
I felt like a sinking statue, burning on the inside, freezing on the outside. It was a war of will and the fire was losing that war. I was going out the same way I’d lived most of my life. Was this a fitting end? I wondered. Alone and out in the cold?
I rather thought it was. If these were my last moments on this earth, then I wanted to take a peaceful memory with me into the void. With no effort on my part, Anne-Marie’s face sprung into my mind. She was standing on the beach, dressed in that stupid chocolate aficionado shirt, a pair of too-large denim shorts, basking in a warm summer afternoon glow. Hands on her hips, head turned my way, there was an intelligent gleam behind her round blue eyes, an easy smile on her lips, always that wild mop of curly brown hair surrounding her.