Fight the Tide (6 page)

Like if he’d hit you a little harder you might never have woken up.
“Okay,” Adam lied. It was healing, but seeing how the skin at Parker’s temple had bruised a deep purple was anything but
okay.

“Maybe I’ll have a few cookies.” Parker rolled up onto his knees.

“I’ll get them. You rest.”

With a little huff, he crawled off the bed. “I need to piss anyway. I can manage ten steps.”

“I can—”

“What? Carry me?” Rolling his eyes, he shuffled to the toilet while Adam waited uselessly.

A few minutes later, Parker sat on one of the long benches in the saloon and munched a cookie. He held out the box, and Adam took one even though the peanut butter tasted like chalk in his dry throat.

“So we should move in the morning. I feel better.” He peered across at the green radar screen. “Seen anything out there?”

“In the distance, another boat. But that was this morning. Miles away and gone now.”
It could have been them. I should have followed. Chased.

Parker chewed another cookie. “Heard anything?”

Adam considered saying no, but told the truth. “Another message from Salvation Island. Similar to before.”

“Persistent. They’re really trying to lure people in.”

“Or help people.”

“I don’t think anyone wants to help anymore,” Parker muttered, his gaze skittering away.

Adam thought about shutting the hood on the Ford Focus, the tears in the young woman’s eyes as she clutched his hand, she and her boyfriend thanking him desperately.

“I mean—” Parker’s nostrils flared. “Those fuckers acted like they were doing me a favor. Should have seen them coming.” Shoulders hunched, he shrugged unconvincingly. “Whatever. It’s over.” He went to the table and the charts. “So let’s plan out our route. Time to get serious about a plan. Winter’s closing in. Did you get any fuel yesterday? Those assholes took our extra, right?”

Adam joined him at the table. “They did. And no. The station was dry. We’ll have to get some in the next day or two.” Of course that meant going ashore. His gut churned. He wouldn’t leave Parker behind again, but what if there was trouble on land?

Parker consulted a chart. He simply said, “Okay,” as though it was no big deal, but Adam could hear his heart jumping. He wanted to pull him close, but wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. He wanted to kiss Parker and take him to bed, lay him out and hold him. He knew the headache wasn’t gone—in fact another wave was probably hitting now judging by the way Parker rubbed the back of his neck. Adam would just make it worse.

He tried to breathe deeply, but could only take in shallow gulps, images of finding Parker dead on
Bella
’s deck sabotaging his mind. Eyes glassy, chest not moving. That kind, loving, suspicious, maddening, beautiful soul just
gone.
Blood heavy in the air…

Dripping onto him, soaking into his skin where he was trapped in the back of the car. The four heartbeats that made up his entire world now silent.

Adam inhaled deeply, hoping the salt air could scrub away the sense memory. No, he couldn’t leave Parker alone again, even with the threat on land. But what if… What if they didn’t have to scavenge? If they could find a place to make a home somewhere down south, they could grow plants. Maybe even find livestock. Thrive instead of just survive.

What if it was like that on Salvation Island?

After a minute, Parker lifted his head with a frown. “What?”

Blinking, Adam said, “Huh?”

With a huff of impatience, Parker dropped his pencil. “I can feel your eyes boring into me. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He stood. “I’ll do a scan.”

“Cool,” Parker muttered. The purple bruise on his temple was a shadow over his face as he bent his head again.

On deck in the falling darkness, Adam looked and listened. With his night vision and the binoculars, he could see for miles. They were still alone, but the air was heavy. As he paced around, his hair bristled, but the horizon remained empty.

*

They didn’t get
very far in the morning before the wind that had been moving them along at a nice clip suddenly blustered, the boat leaning on a frighteningly sharp angle. Adam gripped the railing, waiting for Parker to shout instructions. The gunmetal sky unleashed, and the sails flapped alarmingly.

“We have to find a harbor!” Parker shouted, then said something about reefing Adam didn’t understand. “Take the wheel!”

He did, and Parker pointed to the right. “Keep it going in that direction.”

Parker leapt about, untying knots and bracing his bare feet on the slanting deck. He expertly tugged and the sails got much smaller. The boat lurched upright, the boom swinging around. But Parker ducked before Adam could even call out a warning, and he continued his work, his T-shirt and jeans soaked.

He opened one of the seats and yanked out orange life vests, zipping his up securely before tossing Adam the other. After tying a rope around his waist, he yelled some more, and Adam turned the wheel as he was told.

Unlike the week before when they’d anchored in a harbor and holed up in the cabin, fucking to pass the time and feeling safe in their cocoon, Adam was most definitely not enjoying a moment of this. Salt stung his eyes, and it got darker as the wind grew stronger. The sky churned, a dense gray, and the boat rocked like a toy.

Even with his enhanced vision, he could barely make out land, though they were getting closer. Parker scurried about, doing things with the ropes and rigging, his feet slipping in the torrent of rain. Unafraid and in control, Parker’s eyes snapped intelligently, his lips thinned, and he moved without hesitation, strong and capable.

Pride warmed Adam’s chest at the sight of him in his element. He clutched the slick wheel as they rode over a too-big wave. Then someone was talking, and it took a few seconds to realize the voice wasn’t Parker’s. Adam stared dumbly at the radio as a man’s voice rang out.

“Mayday, mayday! Please help! Is anyone out there?”

Parker tied a knot with quick hands, then skidded over the deck and stared at the console. The voice cut sharply through the downpour and the whipping wind.

“We’re taking on water. Mayday! Is anyone listening? Help!”

Adam’s pulse raced. “Do you recognize the voice? Is it one of them?”

Staring at the radio as if he could read the answer, Parker wiped water from his eyes. The boat pitched and rolled with another set of waves, and they held on. “I don’t think so.” He met Adam’s gaze. “But we can’t help anyone. We have to find shelter or we’ll be in our own trouble.” He blinked. “Why aren’t you tied on? Didn’t you hear me?” He tore off the lid of one of the seats and yanked out an orange rope that he looped around Adam’s waist.

“You said a bunch of stuff!” Adam held the wheel and let Parker do his thing, securing him to the boat. The speed with which he tied complex knots was dizzying. Adam stared at the radio, his fingers itching to pick up the transmitter and offer help. He knew they had to take care of themselves, but sick dread sank through him at the thought of ignoring the call.

The radio blared again. “We’re south of Cape Hatteras. Please help!”

Adam shouted, “Are we close?”

Parker slid into him and steadied himself as another set of waves rocked them. He leaned down and inspected the radar screen, gnawing on his lower lip. “Yes, but… Fuck, we can’t. What if it’s a trap? What if—”

“Is anyone listening? We’ll give you food and fuel! We’ll give you anything! Please just help!”

In the background, another voice cried out, “
Daddy
!”

The young girl’s voice sent a shiver down Adam’s spine, and he and Parker looked at each other. Parker grabbed the transmitter.

“Hold on—we’re coming.”

A
t the helm,
Parker squinted at the compass, shaking icy water from his eyes. The temperature had plummeted, and his fingers were numb on the metal wheel.

The boat in alleged trouble was fortunately near Hatteras Island, but Parker wasn’t sure they’d make it in time. His chest felt hollow, his heart clanging around, adrenaline giving his stiff limbs energy. The pistol Shorty and his pirates had missed hidden in the bedroom now pressed into the small of Parker’s back, the steel cold. Whatever happened, he’d be ready this time.

Wind and salt scoured his face ruthlessly as the girl’s cry for her father echoed through his mind, and a memory thrashed to the surface.

The water churned around him, his lungs burning as he kicked desperately. He’d always been afraid to open his eyes underwater since Eric had told him about fish that ate your eyeballs. But he opened them now, searching for safety and seeing only blackness.

The hands that grabbed him were strong, and when he gasped in air and rain, held afloat by his father, he felt loved, even when Dad screamed at him for not wearing his life jacket.

He couldn’t leave a little girl to drown, but…

Shuddering, he flinched as if Shorty was there again, his palm cracking down on Parker’s bare flesh. Shorty or anyone else could be out there, wanting to hurt them. Waiting. Using a kid to do it. It would be a risky trap to set given the storm, but it wasn’t out of the question.

But what if the kid was a prisoner?

He glanced at Adam, who peered anxiously off the starboard side. He’d never know if
Bella
changed course. Parker could tell him the boat must have sunk, and they could stay safe, just the two of them. It wouldn’t even necessarily be a lie given the ferocity of the growing waves…

In that moment, Parker hated himself possibly more than he ever had in his life, and that was saying something.

“There!” Adam pointed into the swirling gray.

He pushed his horrible thoughts away. He wasn’t going to trust anyone, but he wasn’t going to become a sociopath either. “Take the wheel!”

After cranking the winch and bringing down the sails completely, Parker peered at the dangerously listing boat to starboard. He cursed these people for still having the sails up and luffing wildly, flapping in the howling wind, then shouted for Adam to turn on the engine, giving them as much control as possible as they neared. The boat was smaller—twenty feet long, and it was going to capsize any fucking second.

Scanning the frothing sea, Parker searched for survivors, running through the emergency checklist in his head. There was a flash of orange and blond hair before a wave swallowed it. Muffled shouts echoed dully, and he spotted a man and boy braced on the tilting deck. No sign of a little girl.

“Adam! Cut the engine! There’s someone in the water. Throw them the life ring!” Parker’s frozen fingers barely cooperated, but he finally got the knot around his waist undone. Down in the dinghy, it took three desperate yanks to get enough juice to the outboard motor. It was thirty feet to the crippled boat, and he spit out saltwater, practically blind in the relentless rain but trying to spot anyone else in the waves.

“Parker! Come back!” Adam’s shout was nearly lost in the wind.

Parker ignored him, because if they were going to risk everything to save these people, he was going to save the hell out of them. They were clearly clueless, and if this was a trap, they’d be sorry.

He pulled up alongside, relief flickering through him as he got a good look at the man: tall and slim, African-American. No one from
The Good Life.
Parker called out, “Uncleat the main and jib!”

The man looked up from a tangle of lines and shouted, “What?” He and the boy were braced on the side of the cabin, the boat tilted and close to capsizing. They were wearing life jackets, at least.

After choking down a surge of irritation that they’d even be at sea, Parker yelled, “Come on! Get in.” The sails flapped violently overhead, the mast leaning out at an unnatural angle.

The man nodded and held the boy’s arm as the kid tried to walk down the sloping deck without tumbling.

“Get on your butt!” Parker shouted.

The boy, a skinny white kid around thirteen, did as instructed and slid the rest of the way before climbing over the railing. He blinked down at Parker from about ten feet up, gripping the rail, his dark hair in his eyes.

“It’s too far!” The boy had one leg over the rail.

“I won’t let you fall!” Parker attempted to sound as reassuring as possible.

“Get in the boat!” A woman’s voice reached them through the roiling thunder of rain, and Parker spotted the blond who’d been in the water now stumbling on
Bella
’s deck, Adam at her side. “Jacob! Do it!”

The man was suddenly there, crashing into the railing, taking the impact with his legs. A girl of about eight was wrapped around him. After a suspended moment, Jacob lost his balance, plummeting into the dinghy and bouncing half out. Parker hauled him back and reached up for the girl, who shrieked as her father dangled her over the side.

The mast creaked ominously.

“Let go!” Parker stood and grabbed her calves, his muscles screaming as he tried to keep his balance in the roiling sea. “I’ve got her!”

Well, he barely had her, but he managed to break her fall and stay in the dinghy, so that was a win. After thrusting her at Jacob, he said, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He shouted up, “Throw me a rope!”