Fight the Tide (21 page)

“I don’t know what to think.” Craig’s voice was hoarse. “I never imagined…”

“I know, it’s trippy.” Parker smiled hesitantly. “I couldn’t believe my eyes at first. But it gets normal really fast. You’d be surprised. I mean, we’re already dealing with a butt-load of crazy.” His smile faded as he turned to Adam, still gripping his hand. “And I’m sorry.” He blinked back tears. “You’re right. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the shitty people out there, like Shorty and his pirate friends. And I’m afraid to hope that there might really be a safe place.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Adam pulled him into a hug, holding him tight.

“And it genuinely is dangerous to cross the Gulf Stream,” Parker mumbled into Adam’s shoulder. “I didn’t make that up.”

He chuckled. “I know.” From the corner of his eyes, he could see the others staring dumbly. Stepping back from Parker, he rolled his shoulders. “I hope you can come to see that I’m not a threat to you.”

“Oh, and he’s immune to the creeper virus, FYI.” Parker gave a thumbs up. “Big plus.”

Lilly crept forward, shaking off Craig’s hand. She reached out and touched Adam’s fingers. “Does it hurt when you get claws?”

“Like Wolverine?” Jacob asked, leaning in.

“No. It’s a natural movement. It’s like extending your arm, or pointing your toes. Same with my fangs and the extra hair.”

“Whoa. This is…” Jacob trailed off, looking Adam up and down. Adam braced himself. A slow smile spread over Jacob’s pimply face. “This is
so cool
.”

Adam exhaled in a rush, and as the kids peppered him with questions, Craig tentatively joined in. Parker grinned beside him, and he knew everything would be okay, at least for today.

“I
t’s better to
go south past Daytona, then cross the stream.” At Adam’s raised eyebrow, Parker raised his own. “I’m not lying. You know I’m not.”

With a small smile, Adam nodded. He, Craig, and Parker were leaning over the table in the saloon, the nautical charts spread out before them in the murky afternoon glow from the skylights.

They’d managed to put some more miles behind them during breaks in the weather system the past couple of days, but it was slow going to the outskirts of Daytona, where smoke rose, almost indistinguishable from the steel sky.

“How can he tell that?” Jacob asked from the kitchen, where he sat on the counter with Lilly eating Jell-O cups. The fish hadn’t been biting, and supplies were dwindling. Parker’s stomach growled, but he ignored it. They needed to conserve their food.

“He can listen to my heartbeat and tell whether or not I’m nervous,” Parker explained. “When someone’s lying, they usually give it away to Adam and his supersonic hearing.”

“You hear that?” Craig said playfully. “No lying from either of you.” He forced a laugh, an actual
ha-ha
sound.

Adam smiled back, and there was a moment of awkward silence. Craig and the kids were trying, and in the days since Adam had come out, they’d gone back and forth between surreptitiously watching him when they thought no one was looking and making lame jokes. The latter was mostly Craig, who really seemed like he could use a beer or five.

Parker wiped the sweat from his brow. It was muggy, and they all wore shorts and T-shirts except Adam, who was shirtless most of the time. Parker wasn’t complaining, although maybe he was since he and Adam hadn’t been able to do more than snuggle. It was too quiet and close quarters to get freaky with other people sleeping nearby.

“Can you turn into an actual wolf?” Jacob blurted.

“Like Professor Lupin?” Lilly added. “Or smaller and with more hair?”

“Guys, don’t be rude,” Craig admonished. “Although, I admit I’m curious myself.”

Adam’s close-lipped smile was sad. “No. It is possible, but I’ve never learned how. Maybe one day.”

Parker gave Adam’s elbow a squeeze and cleared his throat. “Anyway, here’s the thing with the Gulf Stream.” He pointed at the map. “It starts down here, around the bottom of Florida. Adam, I think I told you it’s around thirty or so miles wide. So it’s like a river in the ocean, with no banks and no rigid course as it goes north. It meanders. It has eddies that can fool you and take you in the wrong direction. It’s also faster where it’s narrower.”

Craig nodded. “I’m following. You’ve crossed it before?”

“No. I’ve read about it, and my dad and brother crossed, so I remember them planning.” He pushed away the pang of regret that his father hadn’t allowed him on that trip. Regret and resentment—with a splash of guilt for having the resentment in the first place. He grimaced and refocused. “The biggest issue is the wind. If there’s any coming from the north, conditions will get rougher. Could be very rough, depending.”

“Why’s that again?” Adam asked.

“Since the stream is moving north—” Parker slid his fingertip along the worn paper from Florida up past New York. “If the wind is coming from the north, it’s moving against the stream.” He drew his finger back down. “This makes waves. And remember, even though the stream is closest to shore off Florida, once we’re out there, it’s still the open sea. No ducking into a harbor if the weather turns.”

Craig blew out a breath. “Okay. How do we cross it? Assuming the wind is coming from the south and it’s all good.” He leaned over the chart. “If we go south, where would we leave from? Maybe Cocoa Beach?” He smiled wistfully. “I always wanted to go there growing up. Thought it sounded so exotic. I used to watch the beach volleyball competitions on TV. It all seemed so glamorous. You know Abby—” He glanced at Jacob, his smile disappearing. “She had a cousin there. Bill, I think?”

Staring at his empty plastic Jell-O package, Jacob shrugged his bony shoulders. “Dunno.”

In the silence, flashes of Abby’s blond hair and easy smile filled Parker’s mind. He shoved them away and jabbed his finger on the map, on the mark he’d made of Salvation Island’s alleged location. “This is our ultimate destination.”

Adam jumped in, rubbing a hand over his hairy face. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and his beard made a scratching sound against his fingers. “Okay, so if the Gulf Stream pushes us north as we go across, should we go from down here, up across like this?” He drew his finger across the map from Cocoa Beach in a straight diagonal line to Salvation.

“No,” Parker said. “That’s a rhumb line.” At the blank stares from everyone, he tried to remember the actual definition but came up empty. “Basically, when you’re sailing, a straight line isn’t actually the fastest way, because the earth is curved. In navigation, there’s the rhumb line or the great circle, which is usually faster.” He drew his finger in a semi-circle around the diagonal. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. If we go across the stream on a rhumb line, we’ll be crabbing.” At the further blank stares, he added, “Going sideways. We don’t want to do that.”

“Right. So what do we want to do?” Craig asked.

“When we hit the stream, we set our course at a ninety-degree angle. We’ll still be going diagonally, but at a much steeper angle. There’s no point in trying to fight the current. So we’ll end up north of Salvation, and then we can go south again once we’re on the other side of the stream. Get it?”

“Yeah. Makes sense,” Lilly said. They all looked at her, and she shrugged. “What? It’s just algebra.”

Craig beamed. “She gets that from her mother. My math skills are limited to figuring out a twenty-percent tip.”

“That’s useful,” Parker teased.

“It sure is. We want to reward good service in the end times.”

“This all sounds good,” Adam said, eyeing the chart. “If we end up north of the island, we can approach in the night. How long will it take to cross?”

“Depends. Say we’re going five or six knots… Probably ten hours. Maybe more.”

“Seriously?” Adam scratched his bare chest as he stared at the charts. “Wow.”

Parker said, “Yeah. That’s what I’m trying to tell you—this isn’t nothing. We’re going way offshore. We really need to plan for this. Without weather reports, a lot of it will be dumb luck. We need to stock up on fuel in case we have to drop sails and use the engine.”

“Can’t we just do that in the first place?” Craig asked.

Parker examined the chart. “Maybe. But depending on the conditions, we could really eat through fuel and then end up in the middle of the ocean with dry tanks. I think we should keep it as a backup plan. Either way, we need to hope for a good window in the weather. Southern wind, not too rough. Fifteen knots max, I think.”

“You think?” Craig asked.

“I may be the expert on this boat, but I’m not actually an expert. If we had Google to refresh my memory, this would be a hell of a lot easier. And if we had Google, I guess we’d have weather, which would help the most. But we’ll just have to pretend it’s the olden days.”

“It’s the ‘nolden’ days,” Craig said. “Get it? New-olden days. If we still had Twitter, we could totally get that hashtag trending.”

“Sure, Dad.” Lilly giggled and toyed with her empty Jell-O container. “What’s for dinner?”

As the others discussed their meal options, limited since the fish weren’t cooperating, Parker studied the chart. He had it memorized by now, but he still examined the little markings. The X he’d made on Salvation Island drew his gaze again and again. His stomach twisted, and he tugged at his T-shirt, pulling the damp cotton away from his skin.

“Hey.” Adam ran his hand over Parker’s back.

“I’m fine.” He edged away. “Need to cool off. Too humid today.” He ducked into the main cabin and changed into the swim shorts he’d scored in a marina up the coast.

“Good idea,” Craig called. “You go for a swim and we’ll make dinner. Rice and beans, my specialty.”

On his way through the saloon, Parker forced a smile. “Awesome, thanks.”

The acid in his stomach roiled as he hurried up to the deck, whispers slithering down his spine.

What if there’s nothing there? Where do we go? What if something
is
there and it’s just as bad as I think it will be? What if, what if, what if…

In the fading light, Parker dove off the stern. They were anchored in a harbor with empty docks in the distance, and as he resurfaced, reveling in the cool water, he wondered where the boats had gone.
Maybe they’re all at Salvation Island having a barbecue. Maybe we’re the only ones left behind.

The lack of other survivors was becoming more and more pronounced. They still heard them on the radio, but the infection’s spread seemed relentless.

“Can I join you?”

Treading water, Parker spun back to face the boat. Adam stood on the rear platform by the dinghy in his swim trunks, which hugged his slim hips and powerful thighs. Parker nodded, letting the frisson of desire ripple through him.

They paddled away idly, but not too far. Parker floated on his back in the bobbing, gentle waves. The sky was finally clearing, and he could see stars twinkling into sight in the pink-red of sunset’s final sigh. He let his ears fill with water, reaching out to snag Adam’s fingers so they didn’t float too far apart.

In the muffled peace, he could hear the faint beating of his own heart and wished he could hear Adam’s too. He threaded their fingers together, watching a star that was too bright.

“Imagine being that satellite up there,” he murmured as Adam caressed the back of Parker’s hand with his thumb. He could almost see it, the earth looking so peaceful from orbit, like nothing had changed. “I guess it’ll stay up there forever, going round and round.” He took a shuddery breath. “That could be us on the ocean. Just going forever, never stopping.” His breath caught on the swell of loneliness.

With a little splash, Adam sat up and tugged Parker’s hand. Trying to shake the water from his ears, Parker rolled from his back and treaded water. Adam watched him with kind eyes, so close that their legs brushed as they kept afloat with rhythmic movements.

Parker inhaled deeply through his nose. “I don’t want to be a satellite. But what if this all goes wrong?”

“I know you’re scared. Especially after what happened that day I left you alone. We’re all scared.”

“It’s not even just if Salvation Island is a lie. The more I think about crossing the stream without knowing the forecast, the more freaked out I get. I’m not an expert. I’m really not.”

“You’ll do your best.”

“What if that’s not good enough? I don’t want to be responsible. I promised Abby I’d take care of them. What if they get hurt because of me? What if you do? What if I’m not enough?”

Adam reached out, smoothing a hand over Parker’s wet hair. “You’ll be your best, and that’s all we can ask. We have faith in you.”

“But why?” he whispered. “Eric was always better at this stuff. My dad—”

“Your dad underestimated you. And I think he would be so proud if he could see you now.”

“You really think so?” Parker knew he sounded pathetic, but couldn’t stop himself.

“I know it.”

“You sound so sure of it. Of me.”

“That’s because I am.” Adam kissed him with a little splash, awkward as they kept afloat. “I’m afraid of a lot of things. But never when it comes to you. Not since that night you saw my true face.”

“But I freaked out.”

“For a minute. Then you asked me if the Loch Ness Monster exists too.” He smiled, his teeth flashing in the gathering dark. “In that moment, I knew you were different. That I could trust you. And in the morning, we fucked like nothing had changed. Like I was the same. I never thought… That meant so much to me.”

“Baby, I will always want to fuck you.”

Adam’s laughter rumbled, and Parker joined in, kissing him messily and letting the worry slip away beneath the water’s surface. “Speaking of which, it’s safer for us to all be on
Bella
, but it’s murder on our sex life.”

“Guess we’ll just have to do what we can, when we can.” Adam tugged open Parker’s swim shorts, tearing at the Velcro fastening.

“Uh-huh. Yep.” Parker yanked on Adam’s trunks. “Get those down.”

When both their cocks were out and Parker had narrowly missed elbowing Adam in the forehead, they took each other in hand, jerking roughly as they cycled their legs to stay afloat. Their shafts soon swelled.