by Ava Harrison
I shoot.
The moment goes slow. Like a movie scene where the camera fades out and time stops for a beat.
“You’re incredible,” I hear Alaric say, and as my heart beats frantically against my breastbone, I feel at peace.
Neither of us speaks for the next few minutes as both of us bask in the weight of the moment. Eventually, I step away from where his arms are wrapped around me and turn to face him.
“Now?” he asks.
My eyes linger on him, soaking in every last inch as we prepare for this journey. After I nod, my gaze moves back to the island.
This small but beautiful island.
It’s the type of private paradise that if I could, I would buy it and build a house. Plant my own garden and live in peace. And a working boat, of course.
With a soft tug at my heart, I turn away from it and step into the raft and sit.
“We are going to have to paddle to get away from the land.” He hands me the paddles. “I probably won’t need your help. But here, just in case.”
“If you are the one doing the work, do you want the good ones?”
“I’ll be fine. Remember, I can build a coconut radio.” He smirks.
“Wait, a minute … I thought you couldn’t.” I laugh.
“I only said that to make sure you were stuck with me.”
“And why would you go through all that trouble for little old me?”
“Because you are worth it,” he says, and there is no humor in his voice.
For a second, I’m wondering if I’m imagining his comment, but his face is soft and thoughtful.
Then he turns back toward the island, one more look.
One more glance.
Before we put it all in the past.
“I’m going to miss it,” I admit. “Is that weird?”
“No. Me too.” His voice is so low I think I imagined his comment.
After that, we don’t speak. Alaric is deep in concentration, paddling us out to sea, and I stare into the horizon, a lonely tear dripping down my cheek.
I’m not sure why I’m crying, but I am.
One tear leads to two and three, and then they pour out of my soul.
When we are finally far enough out, he places the paddle down and then pulls me into his arms. He holds me tight as if it might be the last time. It might be.
Together, we hold each other, and with each second that passes, the island becomes one with the sky, lost in the deep blue ocean. A mirage.
If my heart wasn’t breaking, I would almost think this was all a dream.
38
Alaric
It’s been hours since we left. I have the canopy half down to steer, not that I know where I’m going.
If only I knew where I started.
The last time I looked at the map, there were too many tiny islands that I couldn’t pinpoint where we ended up.
On the ocean, we are a small speck, like a tiny grain of sand in a never-ending beach.
I’m not sure which way to go.
Even when the sky goes dark with the stars above us to guide, I’m not sure what direction home is in.
It makes me feel useless.
Something I hate.
It’s not that I’m a control freak. Okay, I am, which makes being lost in the ocean my biggest nightmare.
At least if I had something to go by … I’m resourceful, but this is a whole different level of fucked.
Phoenix has been quiet.
Eerily so.
This isn’t easy for either of us, but for me, I’m used to having to survive. I spend every day of my life doing so.
She, on the other hand, doesn’t.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
There is no way to cook out here, but we cooked all the fish we caught before we left. It will most likely taste like shit, but hopefully, it will be enough to give us a chance to live.
“No, not really.”
“You have to eat eventually.”
“I know.”
There isn’t much room in here, but since it’s a six-person raft, there’s enough that she’s on the other side.
“You don’t have to sit so far away.”
“I’m afraid.”
Her words make me tilt my head. “Afraid of what?”
“That the raft will capsize. What if the—”
I shake my hand at her, cutting off her words. “That won’t happen. They built this to last. It has weight stabilizers; it won’t flip.”
“Not even in a storm?”
“Not even in a storm,” I say.
The truth is, that’s how it was sold to me, that it won’t flip in the ocean, but under the right circumstances, it might. I won’t tell her as much. I already know how scared she is.
She weighs my words in her head, and then she moves closer.
Not too close, but close enough that she can rest her head on my shoulder.
From the angle, we both have an unobstructed view of the sky.
The stars above twinkle down on us like tiny tea lights.
I point out into the distance.
“You can’t see it now, but did you know there is a constellation called Phoenix?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s a minor constellation in the southern sky.” I pull back and look at her. “It was obviously named after you.”
She laughs, and the sound lightens the thick air. “Or it’s named after a mythical bird.”
“I like the idea that it’s named after you. A mythical creature who brought down the beast.”
“And what beast are you referring to?”
“Me.”
My hand reaches out and lifts her chin. Our eyes meet. There is little light, but enough that we can see into each other eyes.
“You did, you know.”
“Did what?” she asks, her expression confused.
“You brought down the beast. Made me care.”
“About?” she whispers, her voice low and unsure.
“You.”
In the darkness of the night, the words I have held inside me slip out. Normally, I would hold back, but with the future unsure, I don’t have that luxury. If we are to die here, I want her to know that she changed me, so I tell her just that. “You changed me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did. Knowing you. Spending time with you. Surviving with you … it changed me.”
“You act like we’re going to die out here and these are your last rites …” She narrows her eyes at me, her jaw tight. She doesn’t want to ask what hangs in the air, but she does. “Are we going to die?”
I answer the best I can. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Together, we stare at the stars, and we both stay silent, the weight of all that’s happened sitting heavy on top of us. Through the endless darkness of the night, stars twinkle from above, the vastness humbling. A reminder of how small we are and how fleeting life is. I pull her tighter to me, encasing her in my warmth.
A part of me wishes this moment could last forever, that it could be endless like the glittering sky above us.
I count seconds that pass by the breath she takes, and finally, when her inhales soften, I know she’s fallen asleep.
My mind won’t shut up, though.
Endless possibilities of where I will steer us tomorrow play on a loop.
If we go north, will we find someone?
South?
Not knowing drives me mad. A part of me just wants to leave it to fate. Don’t steer and just hope.
That part of me is foreign. I’ve left nothing to chance. My upbringing fights with my subconscious over what to do.
In the end, I decide I will try to move us northeast. When the sun peeks out against the horizon, I will use it as my guide.
I remember the islands from the map and better than that, civilization.
It might take a few days, but if we are lucky, we might stumble upon about another boat on the way.
> There’s no way we won’t.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I close my eyes. I won’t sleep long. Just enough to be ready for tomorrow and whatever it will bring.
39
Phoenix
The soft rocking of my body stirs me awake. As my eyes open slowly, I don’t remember where I am at first. But now that I can see, and all I see are dark skies, I remember.
I’m on the raft.
Adrift at sea. With Alaric.
I turn to find him. He’s looking out into the ocean from the opening of the canopy. What he’s looking for, I’m not sure, but he seems tense.
His shoulders are tight, and his jaw even tighter.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and that’s when he turns around and looks at me.
His face has been on edge.
It’s pale. His eyes are large, and they seem hollow.
“What’s wrong?” I ask again.
Something isn’t right, but then something dawns on me. “What time is it?”
The sky is black, but there are no stars. There’s no sun either, just endless black clouds above us.
A storm.
“How long until it hits?”
As if Mother Nature answers us, a bolt of lightning cuts through the sky in the distance.
“Sooner than I had hoped.”
“This is bad, right?”
“This raft can withstand it,” he answers, but the monotone way he says it gives him away. Maybe when I first stowed away on his boat, I wouldn’t have heard it, but after endless hours of getting to know him, I hear in his voice everything he doesn’t say.
This is a very big deal.
“With our track record, it’s going to sink,” I deadpan.
“It won’t sink.” He is tight-lipped again.
“And you know this how?”
“Because I did my research before purchasing it. Just in case something like this happened.”
“And what did you find out?”
“The raft can survive the open sea.”
“Good to know. But for how long?”
“I’m not sure. The longest anyone has been on a raft like this at sea and lived to tell is seventy-five days … I imagine the rest died.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.” I shudder at the thought. “So … what you are saying is we should be fine.”
“Hypothetically speaking.”
I groan. “Oh lord, Alaric, just lie to me.”
“Do you really want me to?”
“No.”
We stare at each other, neither of us knowing exactly what to say. This storm changes everything. Although there was a good chance this plan wouldn’t work, the storm makes those chances even higher.
“I’m going to seal this up.” He points to the canopy on top of us, to the hole he unzipped for us to look out of. “It will protect us from the rain that will come.”
He moves to his knees and closes it. Soon, we are bathed in darkness, none of the gray skies showing anymore.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Now we wait. It could be hours, or it could be minutes. The water will get rougher.”
“Great.”
We both sit on opposite sides of the raft as we wait, each needing our own space to come to terms with what is about to happen. As time passes, I can feel the swells of the ocean getting larger.
The sound of raindrops hitting the covering echoes around me.
With each second, the sounds intensify, as does the beating of my heart.
The air in my lungs tightens until it seems it’s becoming nearly impossible to breathe.
Alaric must sense my distress because he’s up and next to me before I can even open my mouth.
“Breathe,” he orders. “Inhale deeply and then exhale. You are having a panic attack.”
I want to scream, No shit, Sherlock, but I can’t find it in me to voice those words, let alone find my voice.
“I have you. Breathe.”
He does, I know he does, but it still feels like a weight is sitting on my chest.
“Everything will be okay.”
But how? I want to shout.
How will it be okay?
As if the universe is playing a wicked trick on me, the raft thrashes around, each wave making us sway back and forth. When a big one hits, I find my voice in the form of a gasp or maybe a scream. I’m not sure what leaves my mouth.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and his fingers wipe them away.
“This isn’t just a storm, is it?”
I look up at him, and when he doesn’t answer right away, I know what he’s not saying. It’s not. It’s much worse.
“We’re going to die.” My limbs shake, and he holds me.
He holds me as I cry, as I tremble in his arms, and he tells me repeatedly that he has me.
All the things I’ve never done, all the missed opportunities, all the things I will never do play out in my brain.
And then, as my tears dry up because I have nothing left inside me to shed, I look at him.
I look at this beautiful, broken man. This man who has shown me more comfort and compassion in the past couple of weeks than anyone else ever has.
I never questioned my father’s love, but even when he took me in, he never took care of me like this.
I’m not ready to say goodbye to Alaric.
At that moment, as the raft hits wave after wave and the sounds of thunder and rain beat around me, I look at him and see a future I’ll never have with him.
At that moment, I realize I want that future.
That I want to go back to the island and just be with him.
That I want to love him.
My tearstained eyes look up at him with unshed tears threatening to fall when we lock gazes.
“Alaric …”
He must see it because he shakes his head. “Not like this.”
“Then when?”
“Dove …”
I lean forward and place my lips on his. “We will die,” I say against his lips.
“We might.”
“I don’t regret it.” His brow pinches at my confession. “I don’t regret any of it. Not one minute of the time I have spent with you.
“Phoenix,” he says my name like it’s a benediction. Then he takes his hands and pulls me closer, his mouth sealing over mine.
He tells me without words that he feels the same way.
No matter what the outcome, we wouldn’t change it. No matter the pain, hurt, lies, and death … whatever brought us here, we welcome.
He kisses me as if I’m his oxygen. And as if he needs me to survive, I kiss him back. The raft tips to the left then back to the right. It moves like a ball in a pinball machine, bouncing around the ocean with nothing left to hold it steady.
Our outcome is unknown, but if I die in his arms, I’ll be okay.
Neither one of us profess our love, but we don’t need to. It’s written in every touch.
Maybe because saying it would be too final.
Maybe admitting you have fallen in love with your enemy is too much right now.
“Phoenix Michaels, no matter what happens, I will never regret you,” he whispers against my lips.
And then we hold each other.
Silently waiting for the end to come.
Knowing if it does, we will have forever been changed by each other, and that is enough.
40
Alaric
A sound pulls me from the deep black abyss of my mind.
It sounds like a motor.
I jolt up, my eyes still hazy from sleep.
“Phoenix …” I shake her, and her eyes flutter open. “Do you hear that?”
She wipes the sleep from her eyes. “What’s going on?” she asks, and I place my finger to my mouth.
“Listen. Do you hear that?”
We both go quiet, and then I hear the sound of the engine or motor or whatever it is again.
Lifting my body up, I move to open the top.
Rain pours in. The storm still rages, but we didn’t die last night. The ocean is rough, the raft still bouncing around under dark gray clouds, but in the distance, I swear I hear something.
I don’t see anything because the hazy sky is too dark, but I can’t mistake the sound.
Water continues to pour down on us, and I know I need to act fast. If there is anyone out there, we can’t risk losing them, but at the same time, I can’t risk taking on too much water.
“Flare gun,” I shout, and Phoenix grabs it and hands it to me. “Cover your ears,” I say, and then I fire into the distance. As soon as the gun fires, I move to close the top.
“What are you doing?” Phoenix asks as I close it completely.
“I can’t risk too much water coming in.”
“But what about the sound?”
“We have to hope they see the flare. I can’t see where the sound is coming from, so I won’t be able to steer there, regardless.”
“We just wait and see?”
“Yeah.”
The look in her eyes tells me she is thinking what I’m thinking. To have come this far only to be teased with rescue would be a cruel joke.
I don’t want to think about it now. There is no part of me that is ready to let her go, but I have to if they come back for us, which I know they will.
When we are rescued, that’s exactly what I will have to do. I’ll also have to put this all behind me.
No matter what Michael did, my feelings for Phoenix are too intense to act on them.
I’ll need to call off the hit.
When Phoenix slipped into my life, I meant to do it because him dying by another man’s hands didn’t seem right.
When everything first happened all those years ago, I just wanted revenge. I placed a hit on him. In turn, Michael went into hiding.
Now …
I shake off the thoughts in my head. If this is my last moment with Phoenix, I’m not going to spend it thinking of her father.
My feelings are a storm inside me. It’s as if the ocean water is rising, and there is nowhere to escape. It pounds against me, but when she takes my hand, she’s the calm. She makes the tide recede.
With our fingers entwined, I grab her and pull her toward me. Her pupils grow large as my hand cups her jaw, and I bring her mouth to mine.