Reckless Girls(16)

That wakes her up. Her eyes go wide, and she turns to say something to Amma, who I can see sliding out of the bed behind her.

“What do we need to do?” Amma asks.

Nico pauses. “Look, I’m going to do my best to keep us out of the worst, but you should go ahead and get dressed, and grab life jackets. And even if you don’t usually get seasick, take some meds now.”

He goes to the counter and pulls out the red plastic medical kit, grabs a blister pack, and tosses it to Amma.

“And be sure to stay below,” he tells them both. “Just hunker down.”

Then Nico lifts his eyes to me, his expression as serious as I’ve ever seen it. “You’re with me, babe.”

The words warm me even as real fear takes hold.

We’re a team.

We’re in this together.



* * *



IT COMES ON SLOW, THEN all at once.

The first sign is the way the air gets colder, enough that I’m eager to slide on the slicker Nico gave me. I have a life jacket on under that, and the entire getup is bulky, and only made worse by the fact that I also have a nylon belt around my waist, clipping me into the ship.

That’s what suddenly makes it feel real for me: the idea of wind and waves that are strong enough to send me over the side, with this one strap the only thing between safety and all that ocean.

I’ve had sailing lessons, both from Nico back in San Diego and in Maui. Sometimes Nico teaches me, sometimes it’s one of the guys at the marina, and I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable on the water, enough so that I’ve taken a boat out on my own several times now. But all of those lessons had happened on calm water under bright blue skies.

This is different.

Within a few hours, the sky goes so dark it almost feels like night. The wind that slaps me in the face is cold, the rain that slithers inside my jacket even more so, and I feel like the whole world has turned upside down, almost literally.

Nico is at the wheel, his feet planted firmly, and I blink, my vision blurry with rain and seawater. I tell myself it’s better being out here on the deck, that if I were below like Brittany and Amma, it would drive me insane to not actually see what was happening.

But as I watch a wave swell up in front of us, higher and higher, I close my eyes instinctively. I don’t want to see this, don’t want to witness climbing that wall of water even as I feel the Susannah begin to rise. The wind is howling so loudly that I can’t hear what Nico is shouting to me, and I try to stay on my feet even as the boat tilts at a crazy angle.

This is not how I want to die, swept overboard into that roiling water.

The deck is slippery as I clutch the handholds bolted to the sides. The sails are down, obviously, but our engine is still running, propelling us through the water, and I slowly make my way to Nico, shouting to be heard over the fury of the storm.

“What can I do?”

Water is streaming over his slicker, and his hands are red, knuckles white from where he’s gripping the wheel. “We’ve got to try to keep her steady!” he shouts back. “If she turns sideways…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence.

If the Susannah turns to starboard or port, one of these waves can roll her, and then it’s over.

I put my hands alongside his on the wheel, feeling the incredible pull of ship and sea, and through the sheets of water pouring over us, I see the cabin door open.

At first, I think it’s just the force of the ship that’s pulled it, but then I see Brittany’s dark hair, a bright orange life jacket, and she’s moving slowly out onto the deck, ducking her head against the wind and water.

“Fuck!” I hear Nico shout, and he jerks his head at me. “Get her back inside. She’s not clipped in.”

I let go of the wheel as Nico grunts and grips even harder, and slowly inch my way toward her.

“Get back down below!” I yell, but she either can’t understand me or doesn’t care, because she’s on the deck now, looking around in amazement or shock, I can’t really tell.

“Brittany!” I yell again, and finally she turns and looks at me.

“I’m sorry! I just couldn’t stay down there!” she shouts back, shaking her head. “Not knowing—”

“Okay, well now you know!” I shout back. “It’s scary as fuck!”

She laughs, even though she looks pale and green, and I move closer, urging her back toward the cabin door.

It happens so fast.

One minute, I’m on my feet, my hands out in front of me, the next, the ship is lurching, my feet are slipping, and I’m falling.

The deck tilts, and I see white-capped, frothy water rising up at my side, and I’m sliding toward it.

NO!

It’s the only thought in my frantic mind as I scramble for purchase, a constant litany of no no no NO NO NO.

My feet flail on the wet deck, desperate for something, anything to grab on to, and I clutch at the lifeline around me even as the nylon pulls through my fingers, tearing skin.

I hear a distant pop, and for a second, I think I’ve broken a small bone in my hand. It’s only when the tension around my waist gives way that I realize my line has snapped.

There’s nothing tethering me to the ship.

My hands sting, wet with seawater and blood, but I plant both palms down on the deck, trying to stop this slide into nothingness. Red streaks follow me down, and I watch almost from a distance as the water turns them pink, washes them away.