Nothing.
Cadence let out a small sob as panic gripped her, and Dorie felt her heart squeeze. “I know!” Fumbling through her purse in the dark, her fingers finally closed over what she’d been looking for.
Her penlight.
She clicked it on, and a small beam of light cut through the dark.
Cadence threw her arms around her. “I love you!”
Dorie laughed and hugged her back. “It’s the bag. This baby has everything we need.” She flicked the light down the narrow hallway just as the boat tipped and listed hard to the right. With no warning, they both went flying against the wall, as did Dorie’s purse, which flew out of her hands, slid down the floor, and emptied out everywhere.
Dorie went crawling after it on all fours, and Cadence went after her. But then the boat rocked to the left, and to the left they all went; Dorie, Cadence, and brush, dental floss, sketch pad, charcoal, sugar packets, box of condoms…
They landed in a tangled heap at the end of the hallway, and slowly, a little dazed, used the light to stuff the things back into the purse.
“Good thinking,” Cadence said, holding up the condoms.
“More like wishful thinking.” Dorie put the box in the bag. “They were on sale.”
“You bought a box of condoms because they were on sale?”
“Yes. You can see why I needed this cruise.” Dorie slung the strap of the purse over her neck and shoulder, tucking it against her back. “You okay?”
“As long as you have that light.”
“Want to know something pretty pathetic?”
The boat swayed and dipped again, and they grabbed each other, huddled there on the floor in the hallway. “Yes,” Cadence said, sounding desperate for a diversion.
“I even have a spare flashlight.”
“That’s not pathetic, that’s just smart. Oh, God.”
“What?”
“My motion sickness patch isn’t working.”
The boat did some more of that horrible shimmying, and Dorie gulped hard. “It’s going to be okay.” God, please let it be okay.
“I wanted a kick in the ass,” Cadence said. “But I wanted a change in my life, not death. I don’t even have a will.”
Dorie let out a weak laugh. “Me either. But I hereby will all my worldly possessions to you. How’s that?”
“Oh, Dorie,” she said, sounding unbearably touched.
“Don’t get too excited, all I have is a portfolio of designs.”
“If I die, you can have my stuff, too. It’s just my art, and my fish Sparky, who sleeps upside down, but he doesn’t eat much.”
Dorie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Better idea. Let’s not die.”
“Yeah, that’s my first choice, too.”
“Hey, you guys okay?”
Dorie lifted the light and revealed Brandy and Andy, both crawling back out of Brandy’s room. Brandy was pale, still green, and yet somehow managed to look like a gorgeous actress playing the part of the distressed victim. “I think fear has overridden my sleeping pill. I needed to see if you’re okay.”
Andy’s face was taut with all sorts of emotions one didn’t usually experience on a dream vacation. But he looked big and strong and capable, which Dorie had to admit was a comfort. “We’re okay.”
“Sure?” He peered into their faces with sweet concern.
They both nodded, and he pulled them in close, giving them a warm hug. “Hold on,” he said, tightening his grip on them. “Another wave.”
Once again the boat tipped, accompanied by a horrendous sound of something tearing, breaking. They all gasped, and as before, slid down the hallway, hitting the wall in unison.
Dorie braced herself, terrified that Christian and the others on deck wouldn’t have the same luxury.
“Hard to believe I was safer at my damn job,” Brandy said with a groan as she sat up and untangled herself.
Then Cadence asked the question they were no doubt all thinking. “Do you think the ship’s okay?”
“Don’t know,” Andy said quietly. “But I’m going to find out. Stay here.”
“No. Andy-”
But he was gone, making his way through the dark and up to the deck above, leaving Dorie sick with worry.
Brandy pulled a flask out of her pocket. She took a deep pull. Her eyes watered and she coughed, then passed the flask to Cadence.
Cadence shrugged and drank, choked, then passed it to Dorie, who took a swig and then nearly died as flames burst down her esophagus. She dug into her purse for gum. “Always prepared for the worst, you know.”
“Hopefully this is the worst,” Cadence said.
They all looked at each other as that somber thought sank in.
“Hey, it’s better than a lot of things,” Brandy decided.
“Like?” Cadence asked.
“Prison, for instance.”
Cadence gaped at her. “Have you been to prison?”
“Oh, just the once.”
Cadence blinked. So did Dorie.
“I blame my wild youth,” Brandy said.
Cadence looked at Dorie, then closed her eyes, looking like she was concentrating on not getting sick.
“What are you all doing down here like this?” Everyone turned at the French accent coming down the stairs.
Dr. Christian Montague, of course, and Dorie nearly leapt toward him to throw her arms around him for still being alive. He was drenched, frowning, and intense, and far more edgy than she could have even imagined, but he was breathing, and breathing was good.
Just behind him came Andy and Bobby, who looked as overjoyed as always. “You should be hunkered down in your bunks,” Christian said, shining his flashlight over them. “Trying to sleep through the storm.”
“As if we could.” In contrast to Christian, Andy sounded extremely Texan as he looked at the women. “We’re blowing out sails left and right. There’s only one left.”
“Andy,” Christian said in a warning voice. “That’s not really-”
“You were yelling at the captain.” Andy turned to Bobby. “I heard you.”
“Not yelling,” Bobby corrected. “More like… talking loud. We do that when things are going bad.”
Everyone looked at him in horror.
“Bobby,” Christian said softly.
“Hey, things go bad at sea. It’s the nature of the beast.”
“Not exactly helping, Bobby.” Christian turned to Andy. “And what you heard was a private conversation.”
“The outcome of which affects us.” Andy looked at the women. “There’s a problem with the storm sails, specifically something called a gale sail.”
“Problem?” Cadence asked weakly.
“Yeah. As in we don’t have one.”
“Oh, God.”
Dorie’s stomach dropped like a two-ton weight. “Maybe we don’t need it.”
“We don’t,” Christian said, his gaze running over her with what she wanted to think was warm approval. “Not when there’s a hanked-on storm jib.”
“And we have that?” Cadence asked.
Christian hesitated.
“Do we?” Cadence’s voice shook.
“We did.”
“Did?”
“We lost it twenty minutes ago,” Bobby informed them. “But-”
Whatever he might have said was lost under everyone talking at once, until Christian stepped in the middle of them and let out a sharp whistle. “Listen up,” he said when everyone looked at him. “Under the right circumstances, the force of the wind on the hull and rigging can generate enough force to propel the craft with or without a sail.”
Brandy let out a laugh that held no real amusement. “But do we have the right circumstances?”
“No,” Bobby said.
“Goddamnit,” Christian murmured, and sent him a sharp look. “Fermez l’enfer.”
Bobby’s mouth tightened.
“What did he say?” Cadence whispered.
“He told me to shut the hell up,” Bobby said.
Christian drew in a long breath.
“So it’s true. We’re all going to die.” Cadence staggered back until she bumped into the wall, as if desperately needing the support.