Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0) (18 page)

“So, did you live in San Diego?” he asked after a while.

“Yeah. I go—went—to college there. I was jogging along the
boardwalk when the disaster hit.”

“I’d finished my shore leave the day before,” Michael said. “My buddies
and I went up to LA to see the Avenue of Stars. Even spent a day at Disneyland.
I’d never been there before. And now here I am.”

He removed his feet from Judith’s lap and began peeling off his own
sodden clothes. He had all the muscles of a football player too. His broad,
chiseled stomach was tanned but lighter than the deep, permanent tan on his
arms and face. Judith looked down at her towel-wrapped legs. A small-town
football player bound for the armed services, though? She didn’t even have
crushes on that type of guy when she was a teenager. She supposed a lot had
changed since then. Everything had changed.

When Michael went to dump his wet clothes in the bathroom, she noticed
an anchor tattoo on his arm. There was something sweetly cliché about it. She
felt a light flutter in her chest, soft as moth wings. No, there was no denying
she was attracted to this man.

“Any trick to the shower?” he asked. He wore only a pair of boxer
briefs now.

“What?
Um, no.
I can’t promise the water will
be hot.”

“Long as I can get rid of the sand and salt, I’ll be happy. Will you be
okay for a minute?”

“Of course. This is my room,” Judith said.

He gave a trace of a smile and then closed the bathroom door.

Judith shook her head.
Pull
yourself together!

She needed to rest. She’d be able to think more clearly in the morning.
She eased herself back on the bed, still wrapped in the towel, and brought the blanket
up to her shoulder on the left side. She couldn’t pull it any higher on the
right because her skin was too raw. She felt exposed, lying partway uncovered
and sideways so her battered skin wouldn’t come in contact with the bed.

She tried to doze, but she felt too wired from her dunking in the sea.
It was still stormy, though not as bad as last time. The sounds of the shower
came through the thin walls of the stateroom. It occurred to her that Michael
had nowhere to stay. Was he expecting to sleep here in her bed? She wouldn’t
mind the company, but she’d already shared an unusual level of intimacy with
this man. They’d been through a crazy ordeal together, but that didn’t mean she
knew him.
At all.

The water shut off. Judith couldn’t see the changing area outside the
bathroom or the stateroom door from where she was lying. If Michael thought she
was already asleep, he might slip away quietly. She lifted her head so he’d see
she was awake. She didn’t want him to go.

“Hey.” He came around the corner from the changing area. “You were
right about no hot water, but it feels good to be clean. I rinsed my clothes
too.”

He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets made tracks
down his chest.

“You might find some extras in the shopping arcade.”

“I’d like to wait until the storm’s over.” He stood in the doorway
expectantly.

“You can stay here,” Judith said, perhaps a little too quickly. She
blushed. “Until the storm’s over, I mean.”

He nodded and hobbled back to the bed. He gathered up some of Nora’s things
and moved them to the end. The mattress creaked when he sat.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like my side is on fire,” she said. “Helps with the cold, I guess.”

“You did well out there. You’re pretty brave.”

“We’d better still have those fuel tanks after this is all over.”

Michael grinned. “I tie a mean sailor’s knot. We’ll have one at least.”

“Good,” Judith said. “I don’t know where we’ll go with it, though.” She
shivered. They’d been turned away from Hawaii and from Guam. They had to find
refuge somewhere. “Where do you think we’ll end up?”

“Maybe nowhere,” Michael said after a moment. “At least not right away.
Moving around probably takes up eighty-five percent of this ship’s energy. The
fuel would go a lot further if we weren’t trying to get anywhere.”

“You mean if we just floated along until things calm down?”

“Something like that,” Michael said. “Things don’t seem to be any
better on land, if you believe the reports.”

“We just don’t know,” Judith said. “That’s the whole problem, right?”

“Yeah. No, we’ll have to go somewhere. I need to get home. Maybe there
will be news in the morning.”

They were quiet for a moment. Michael lay back and lifted his battered
foot onto the clothes piled at the end of the bed. He put his hands behind his
head and stared at the ceiling, preparing to sleep. Judith wanted to hear his
voice for a little while longer.

“How long do you think we could last, floating along like that?” she
asked.

“Depends how good we got at fishing,” Michael said. “And how long we
could avoid scurvy.”

“We’ve been eating a bit of seaweed already. That has plenty of nutrients.”

“
Blech
. I hate the stuff, but you’re right.”

“Hmm . . . staying on the
Catalina
,”
Judith said. She did not like the idea one bit. She wanted to get her feet back
on land.
Real land, not just a patch of sand in the middle of
the ocean.

“It’s probably just the hypothermia talking,” Michael said. “We’ll be
able to disembark somewhere. There’ve got to be relief organizations on the
move by now.”

“I hope so. Maybe Nora can—” Judith fell silent abruptly. She’d
forgotten.

“She was your friend who . . .”

“Yeah. She was kind of a computer genius. She was helping us keep track
of what was going on in the world.” Judith swallowed and looked over at the window.
The wind howled against the panes, rattling them like ghosts.

“How close were you?” Michael asked.

Judith let out something between a sob and laugh. “I only knew her for
a few days. It seemed like a lot longer.”

“That’s how it works in traumatic situations,” Michael said. “That’s
why war buddies are for life. I’m sorry about Nora.”

“It’s stupid,” Judith said. “She made it out of San Diego. We were the
survivors. But she just couldn’t swim well enough.” Judith wrapped her fingers
around her blanket, as if squeezing it would somehow ease the enormous pain in
her chest. “It’s not fair.” She could barely hold in the tears.

“Nothing’s fair anymore,” Michael said. “The world has gone to hell.”

“It’s stupid,” Judith said again. She really was crying now. She hated
crying.

Michael sat up and reached across the small gap between them to put his
hand on top of Judith’s fist. His warmth relaxed and calmed her. Almost
involuntarily the tension in her body eased. Michael reached out to wipe the
tears off her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

He stayed like that, one hand over her hand, the other hovering near
her face, like he was ready to block out the rest of the world. She felt like
she was holding her breath and Michael was leaning forward, offering an oxygen
mask, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to take it.

Then the exhaustion of the day tumbled onto her. She closed her eyes,
relaxed. With Michael’s hand still covering hers, she succumbed to sleep.

Simon

When
the storm finally calmed, Simon looked out at a changed sea. He had no idea how
long it had been, but suddenly the water was as flat as glass. Clouds still
swirled above it, milky and chilled.

Ren
had finally gone to bed.
Vinny
and Kim
were
up in the radio tower, trying to figure
out where the storm had brought them and if there was anyone else out there. Captain
Martinelli
had returned to his quarters. As soon as
they were far enough away from the atoll to be safe, they’d shut off the
engines and allowed the sea to toss them where it willed.

The navy had forsaken them. They were being pushed away time and again.
They couldn’t communicate with the outside world. They had lost another of
their number. They had nowhere to go. Simon felt the clutches of despair in his
heart. When was this going to end?

Chapter 16—The Shops

Simon

Simon strolled along the
plaza in the early-morning
hours, surveying the damage. The plaza had been decorated to look like a
boardwalk, with tropical-themed shops along the perimeter. In addition to the
huge cruise gift shop, there were boutiques selling patio clothes, overpriced
artwork, sunglasses, and swimming trunks. There was even a bookstore, and this
was where Simon stopped.

The first storm had sent books and merchandise cascading to the floor.
Some effort had been made to clean up the mess, but they’d had the sense not to
put everything back on the shelves, stacking the books on the floor to prevent
them from being damaged further. This storm hadn’t been quite as bad as the
first, but the books had still scattered as the ship tossed.

Simon began shifting books, clearing a path through the shop. The sound
of paper against paper whispered through the air. One bookshelf had tipped
over. On the other side, Penelope Newton sat on the floor sorting through the
children’s section.

“Hello, Simon,” she said brightly.

“Penelope.”

“How are you holding up?”

“It’s been a rough night,” Simon said. “For all of us. What are you
doing?”

“Just picking out a few stories for my boys. I can’t approve of the
content of some of these so-called children’s books.” She held up a book with
some sort of sorcerer on the cover. “
Gotta
narrow it
down a bit.”

“You look out for them.”

Penelope sighed. “I’m not sure if it’ll matter in the end.”

“What won’t matter?” Simon asked. He had come to expect Penelope’s
persistent optimism. He might not agree with her on many things, but she always
seemed so cheerful.

“Whether they read one more story with magic or too much sex,” Penelope
said. She frowned at the small pile of books she had stacked in front of her.
“I want to keep the same standards despite everything, but sometimes I don’t
know if it’ll end up being all that important.”

“I think it’s important,” Simon began slowly, “that you continue to
parent them in the midst of all of this. And you’re trying to be a good parent.”

“Yes,” Penelope said. “You’re right. It just gets hard sometimes.”

She met his eyes for a moment. There were new lines in her face, and
her gaze was vulnerable and sad. Her eyes were quite pretty, really. There was
more to Penelope than Simon had thought at first.

Then she gave a little sniff and resumed sorting through books.

“Do you need any help?” Simon said.

“Not with this, but it sure is a shame to leave all these books lying
around like no one cares about them,” Penelope said. Her voice was determinedly
cheerful again, though she still sniffled every once in a while. “That’s why
you’re here, isn’t it?”

“I needed somewhere to think,” Simon said. “This seems like the most
sensible place for it.”

“What are you thinking about?” Penelope asked politely. She shifted the
stacks of books across the floor, back to her usual bustling self.

“What to do next,” Simon said. “After Guam didn’t work out . . . I
don’t know where to go from here.” He knelt on the floor of the bookshop and
began picking up paperbacks. “We have the fuel tanks now, and we salvaged a few
extra things that might be useful. I just don’t know when it’s all going to
end. If we were going to hold on for another week, I could take it. If we were
going to hold on for exactly two months and four days, I could take it. It’s
the not knowing that worries me. Should we be rationing for the long haul? If
so, things are going to get a bit less comfortable around here.”

“Well, the Lord always said we wouldn’t know the day or the hour of His
coming,” Penelope said. She took a book with animals on the cover out of
Simon’s hands and added it to her small stack. “I believe we’re seeing signs of
the End of Days. We don’t know when the Second Coming will be, so we’ve got to
hang in there. The apostles believed the Lord would come again during their
lifetime. That didn’t happen, but I think it’s a good bet He’ll come again in
ours, what with all the signs. I’ve been doing some reading . . .”

Penelope stood and retrieved a worn Bible from where she’d placed it on
a now-empty display counter. It was in a carrying case made of some sort of
quilted fabric, and the corners were frayed. The tome overflowed with sermon
notes and pretty bookmarks printed with inspirational sayings.

Penelope opened the Bible to the very end.

“Seven years, Simon!” she gushed. “That’s what we’re looking at. Seven
years of tribulation before the last battle. I’ve always been in the Pre-
Trib
camp myself. I thought we’d be
raptured
before the Last Days because I didn’t think Jesus would want his people to go
through all this. But I’ve been faithful, and he wouldn’t have left me and my
boys behind, so we must be looking at a Mid-
Trib
—that’s
three and a half years—or a Post-
Trib
scenario.”

Penelope explained the signs and portents she believed heralded the
Last Days. She catalogued the events, referenced verses. Simon didn’t think
they were living in some cosmic end-time, but Penelope’s voice was calming. The
order and methodology of her words soothed him. She was carving out meaning for
herself in the madness of the last week and a half. It must be easier than
questioning why all this was allowed to happen in the first place. Even if she
was completely wrong, her soul was more at peace than Simon’s. He wished he too
could simply study the right passages in a book to find the answers to his
doubts and fears.

It was one of the things he had always liked about being Jewish. He
hadn’t followed the rules to the letter for years, but there was a consistency
and staidness to his heritage that he appreciated. Regardless of whether or not
he was personally religious, the tradition was something to study and to
practice. But now he wanted an explanation for why all this had happened.

Penelope noticed he had fallen silent. “I’m sorry to babble on like
this, Simon,” she said. “It . . . it helps that we might be able to work out
what’s coming next.”

“I almost hope you’re right, Penelope,” Simon said. “But like you said,
we won’t know the hour, so we need to focus on what to do in the next few
days.”

“How far
d’you
think we can get on that extra
fuel?” Penelope asked.

“
Ren
thinks we should be able to get all the
way to Southeast Asia on it . . . or all the way back to Hawaii. We can’t do
both. We don’t want to make the wrong choice.” He hesitated,
then
voiced the doubt he hadn’t shared with anyone else yet. “I’m not sure we’ll
find solace in either location.”

Penelope gasped. “You don’t think they’d help us? Of course they’ll
help us!”

Simon smiled. Despite everything, she still had faith in humanity as
well as in God.

“No one else has helped us so far,” he said. “I hope they will, but
they’re dealing with problems of their own. We’re almost better off sailing
around for a little while.”

“We have to get back on dry land, Simon,” Penelope said. “We can’t
raise our kids on this boat.”

“Maybe it’s like the Ark,” Simon said. “Maybe the
Catalina
will keep us safe.”

Penelope smiled. “It already has.”

They returned to sorting through the books. Simon arranged them by
topic and author, even though he knew another storm could pick them up and toss
them about again at any moment. It made him feel better to find order in the
midst of the chaos.

Judith

Before
Judith opened her eyes, the pain reignited in her side and arm, reminding her
immediately of what had happened. Her dreams had been filled with dark waves,
ropes tangled around her like snakes, and Nora disappearing beneath the ship
again and again.

The next thing she became aware of before she opened her eyes was deep,
heavy breathing. Warmth touched her face with the sound of each breath. She remembered
this part even more clearly. She opened her eyes.

Michael lay beside her, partially on top of the covers. He had fallen
asleep holding her hand instead of climbing beneath them. Judith sat up slowly
so as not to disturb him. Each movement hurt worse than the last. She must have
pulled every muscle she had.

She eased herself out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. She managed
to undress without crying and took a cold, head-clearing shower. She scrubbed
her hair and winced through each drop of water that fell on her wounded skin.

She thought about the man sleeping in her bed, recalling the feeling of
his hands on hers the night before, the way the muscles rippled in his stomach.
His strength was positively seductive.

But she reminded herself these were extreme circumstances. They had
been through a very intense day. She had latched onto him in the midst of the
crisis. It didn’t mean anything. It was the danger, the adrenaline. She didn’t
even like jocks! They spent too much time in the gym and not enough time doing
useful things, like homework. But that gym time paid off . . . Judith let the
shower
water course
over her face, her sore muscles
forgotten for a moment.
Stop it! Just
because the world is ending, doesn’t mean you need to throw yourself into the
first muscular pair of arms you find.
They’d be getting off the ship soon
anyway.

Judith turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She wiped
the fog from the bathroom mirror to reveal her reflection. She looked like a drowned
golden retriever. She grabbed the spare towel from the rack to dry her hair,
then ran her fingers through it, trying to make it look tousled and
beachy
.
Get a grip,
Judith. When have you ever used the word “
beachy
”?

She yanked open the bathroom door. Michael was standing right outside
it in the changing area.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

She quickly swung the towel around herself. In her haste, it scoured
against the scabs forming on her damaged skin. The pain made her angry, as well
as embarrassed.

“I wanted to see if you were—”

“What? Naked?” Judith shrieked. “Yes, genius. I was showering. Get
out!”

“I was just trying to—”

“Out!”

Michael shrugged and ducked back around the wardrobe.

Judith finished drying herself off. There was blood on the towel now
from where it had rubbed against her raw skin. What was he thinking, lurking
outside the door while she showered? Obviously, he could hear the water
running. Judith realized she didn’t have any clean clothes to put on. That made
her even more annoyed.

She wrapped the towel tightly around her body and stalked out of the
changing area. Michael was sitting on the chair, slowly putting on his shoes.

“Sorry about that,” he said breezily. “I was worried you were having
trouble moving and thought I’d see if you needed help.”

Face burning, Judith sat down across from him. She had overreacted. It
was not like she’d never been naked in front of a man before. They were both
adults.

“Look, if you want to make yourself useful you can do me a favor,” she
said stiffly.

Michael grinned. “What kind of favor?”

Judith fought a smile and scowled unconvincingly. “You can go to the
plaza two decks below us and find me some clothes from the shops. Just take them.
No one will stop you.”

“Sure.
Any particular requests?
Lingerie
or—”

“Leave them outside the door when you come back.”

“I’m just
jok
— ”

“If you can’t find the plaza, someone will direct you. And get
something warm, if you don’t mind.”

Michael chuckled. What did he think was so funny? He retrieved his
now-dry undershirt from the bathroom and came back into the room to put it on.
He did it slowly, reaching his strong arms above his head and pulling the hem
slowly over the muscles in his stomach. Judith pretended to look the other way.

As soon as he was gone, Judith wished she could call him back. She
hadn’t meant to snap at him. She’d been embarrassed. It was not like he could
hear what she had been thinking about him. She should really apologize.

No, it was probably just as well. Michael was a distraction, one that
would never go anywhere. And he had no right to flaunt himself in front of her
like that! She ran her fingers through her hair and gingerly began to check her
wounds.

Simon

When
Simon left the bookstore, he felt calmer about their next course of action.
They’d have to press on and find somewhere to make landfall in Asia. There was
no point going back. He needed to talk to
Ren
about
the particulars, and he wanted to run the idea by Judith too. He had come to
rely on her judgment.