6th Horseman, Extremist Edge Series: Part 1 (35 page)

Then Ben speaks up. Damn him sometimes. He
points to the northeast where there had been a few lightning
strikes. I see more lightning now that the sun has vanished over
the horizon and darkness has set in. There’s trouble coming, but it
isn’t the walkers. It’s an act of God. I look at Markus.

I tack the boat back toward land. Suddenly, a
puff of wind whips across the tops of the small waves. The boat
tips on its side, heeled, as it’s called. Its rail almost dips into
the water. We are almost sideways. I immediately turn into the wind
and loosen the rope that leads to the main sail. The boat slows and
the sails start whipping back and forth. My adrenaline ramps up my
senses. I turn back toward land and let the wind fill the sails
again. I have no idea what to do next.

Another gust from the east knocks into us. It
heels the boat over again. I feel like I’m losing control. Rice
screams. Ben loses his grip on the railing and falls into the mast.
The wind eventually lets up, but for only a second. A more powerful
gust hit moments later. Tanis slips and falls onto the railing as
it dips into the water. I let go of the wheel and loosen the main
sheet again. The boat naturally turns upwind and slows. My heart is
on overload.

“Okay. . . if I remember right, we have to
shrink the sail size!” I yell. Dark clouds are coming from the
ocean faster than seemingly possible. The sea grows in size. The
rocking increases.

“I ain’t Captain Dick here!” Ben yells. “How
do we shrink the sail?”

I hand the wheel to Isabella. “Keep it going
upwind if you can.” She nods. I run to the bow of the boat. Ben
follows. “We have to take down the jib! That very front sail,” I
yell. A heavy rain starts to fall. The wind gets cold fast.

“Shouldn’t we take all the sails down?” Ben
asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I
remember something about needing a sail even during a storm. You
want to be able to steer the boat. Otherwise, we lose control.”

“Whatever you say!” Ben cries. The boat
heaves upward as the waves continue to grow in size. We struggle to
get to the bow of the boat. Water splashes over the side, drenching
us in a salty spray. My feet slip on the slick wood. The waves are
lifting the
Pioneer
up and down. The horizon disappears on
the upside of the wave.

I grab hold of a security line that leads
from the end of the bow to the deck of the boat. I cautiously work
my way to the furthest jib. I untie the halyard line that controls
it and hold it in my hand. I think I can pull it down and save the
sail. I’m wrong. The halyard rips from my hand. I lose my footing
as the boat tips over the crest of a wave. I’m caught by the
security line, but the halyard flaps around like a sea snake out of
water. The jib whips and snaps nosily in the wind and threatens to
rip from the ship and fly away. I can’t catch the line so I’ve
essentially lost the sail.

The boat rocks downward into the bottom of
the wave. I’m holding onto the security line with every bit of
muscle I’ve got. My stomach feels like it touches my toes. Then we
start rising again. It’s like a ride at an amusement park. A wave
of water hits me, dousing my thoughts.

I slowly work my way back to the forward
mast. Ben follows me. This time I grab the halyard and wrap it
around my wrist.

“Ian!” Hana yells. “We’re going right toward
the shore! We’re too close!”

I pull the halyard as hard as I can, trying
to pull the forward sail down. Nothing budges. I flap the line and
pull again. It frees and slides down. Hand over hand I pull until
the sail is bunched up at my feet. I step over the sail and yell to
Ben. “You secure the sail to the boom. We can’t lose it! Don’t fuck
this up!” Ben nods.

I run as fast as I can to the wheel. As I do,
it feels less like running and more like dancing.

“What do I do?” Isabella asks, stepping away
from the wheel.

The wind pushes us over hard again. The rain
intensifies. “We need to tack! I need you to lower the back
mainsail two spots!” I point out the ties that are a few feet off
the bottom foot of the sail.

“Too easy! Give me somethin’ harder!” she
yells, but looks confused at the mess of ropes everywhere.

I try to sound calm even though our situation
rapidly declines. “See that rope?” I point it out. “It’s the
halyard. It holds the sail up. So you untie it and pull it down
until you get to those ties. Then tie the hanging part of the sail
up. Got it?” I’m way out of my game. If I do anything wrong, we all
die. The boat will flip and drag us down into Hades. I look beyond
the stern of the boat. Our small wooden rowboat is still tied to
us, but might not be for long. It swings violently back and forth
on the waves.

I turn the boat back into the wind. The sail
luffs wildly, snapping back and forth. Isabella, with the strength
of two men, pulls the sail down two levels and then ties the
line.

Now we only have the small bit of main sail
left. I can tell things are better because we aren’t being pushed
around so much and I have more control. However, we are far from
safe. We’re still heading toward the shore. “Unless we want to
crash, we have to turn and head back out to sea!” Markus pokes his
head up from the ladder that leads to the galley. “We’re taking on
water, Ian. What should I do?”

“Shut all the windows and then you and Josh
look under the floor boards for pumps. The electric bilge will be
disconnected, but there should be manual ones! Look for a simple
baseball sized thingy that has a bar for a hand pump. Like an old
well pump!” I answer, hoping that there were manual pumps, and that
they look the same as the ones on my father’s yacht.

“Take that rope,” I order Ben. “It’s the
sheet that controls the main sail.” I point it out. “You and
Isabella pull it tight until that boom is centered. Then as I turn,
let it out until I say stop.” They nod. “Jibe!” I yell and turn the
wheel hard to port. The boat rises on the back of a huge wave and
turns. We soar up the huge swell then back over it. The main sail
flaps like a broken-winged bat. As I continue to turn, the sail
picks up the wind and locks into shape. Isabella and Ben let out
the sheet allowing the boom to swing out. Just then the
Pioneer
hits the bottom of the wave. Our bowsprit plunges
into the dark water. The crest of the wave is taller than us!

My stomach seems to drop into my colon like
I’d swallowed lead. Only after we start back up the wave do I feel
the blood pumping in my veins again. I figure we should head out to
a safe distance and heave-to to wait the storm out. I desperately
try to remember how to do that. Back in France we were taught to
heave-to if we got injured or if something broke. I remember only
having to push out the main sail as far as it would go and turn the
wheel the opposite way and then tie it down. I only hope it would
work because sinking and having to use the row boat to get back to
the land is not an option.

Thunder and lightning fill the sky. Ben runs
to the railing and barfs over the side. Hana is getting sick, too.
I can see it in her face. I order everyone to go down below.

Now it’s just me at the helm. I watch the
dark clouds roll over themselves. Lightning snaps through the
atmosphere and rips the sky apart with thunder. I’m drenched. The
rain stings my face and my visibility is decreasing.

“Oh yeah, you stupid storm?! I’m fucking Ahab
now! I got you!” I yell and turn the boat into the next wave.
“You’re gonna kill the last people on Earth? Piss on you!” Thick
saliva is building in my throat. I spit. My stomach tightens. I’m
sick, so I keep yelling. “God, you better do this right and kill
me! I’m the one that killed your children! You know it and I know
it. It was me and Zilla!” I laugh. “You knew I’d do what Zilla
wanted. You knew this would happen and you didn’t stop it! Fuck
you!” I spit with as much vehemence as in the cries of a million
suffering voices. My throat feels like it is bleeding.

A huge wave breaks on the bow and sends so
much water onto the deck that it pushes my feet out from under me.
I hold on to the wheel and pull myself back up. I’m crying now.
“How the hell was I supposed to know this would happen? I’m sorry
mom, dad, to my half brother Rick, my whole goddamn extended
family. Oh, Tammy, my little niece.” Tears fly out of my eyes and
snot from my nose. I continue yelling, “I took down the system,
didn’t I? I fantasized about it, and I did it. Shit, man. I
committed genocide and I didn’t even know it. I was the puppet on a
string.”

I throw up into the splashing ocean water
around my feet. I grip the wheel so hard my knuckles ache.

A million years seem to pass. All sound is
drowned out. I feel like I’m under water, submerged in pain and
remorse. It is probably a hallucination, but I can see thousands of
lights around me. They look like fireflies. They blink and skitter
around the splashing water. One comes close to my face. I flinch.
The sickness in me pauses while I watch those lights. Then, as the
Pioneer
dips down, down, down into the bottom of the wave,
the fireflies fly up. They rise into the dark sky until I can no
longer see them. The boat hits the bottom of the wave then rises.
I’m dizzy. So dizzy.

I fight the waves for over an hour before
fatigue gets to me. I can’t fight anymore. I tighten a lever on the
wheel, locking it from moving. Then I struggle to the main mast
sheet. I can’t control my muscles. I have to scream to tell them
what to do. A wave of nausea rolls over my consciousness and I feel
like I’ve just blacked out. My vision returns. I let the main sheet
out as far as it would go and tie it down. It is hard to do, but I
get it. We are heaved-to. I struggle to the cabin. I throw up some
more but there is nothing left in my stomach. A wave knocks my feet
out from under me. Water bathes me violently. I slide to the other
side of the deck like I’m on ice. It is still and silent now. Just
a hint of white noise.

The boat rocks dangerously. I’m spinning. I
search for a handle but can’t find one. Then my fingers find rope
and latch onto it. It is tied to something. I pull myself up only
to get hit by another wave. I pull harder than I ever have in my
life. I fight the water and the wind until I get to the cabin door.
The boat rocks. It’s almost completely sideways. I can’t reach the
door handle.

Suddenly, the boat rocks the other way. It
feels like we are spinning. I’m holding onto a handle on the side
of the cabin, but my fingers weaken. If I let go I will be thrown
off this boat and into the ocean. My fingers loosen as temptation
teases me. I feel okay about this end. Maybe this is what I
deserve. I let go. I close my eyes. My body slides on the wet,
wooden deck and slams into the rail. I thought I felt myself going
over.

My body is held by the railing as if in the
grip of a giant hand. When the opposite side of the boat drops
below the horizon, I slide back toward the cabin. I see the wave
that is about to hit. There is a shadow in the wave like a demon is
inside it. It looks into my soul and burns me.

The cabin door opens. There is Hana. I fall
toward her. She reaches out for me and I plummet into her arms. My
face smashes into her skull. She pulls me inside. We fall down the
few steps to the floor.

K
at is an Australian
Shepherd mix. He’s only about forty pounds and is mostly hair. He’s
white, marbled grey, and brown. His long nose is white and his
small ears are floppy. He’s a great dog. He listens to everything I
say. Kat’s pretty light, so I tuck him under my arm and climb the
ladder to the deck of the
Pioneer
. He doesn’t mind all this.
Even when I threw him into the small rowboat and he landed on a
bunch of canned food, he didn’t yelp or anything. I think he is
just happy to see me.