The Road Trip At The End (Book 3): Farm

by Wood, J N

  I should probably tell him at some point.

  I was mopping up the tomato sauce I’d spilt everywhere, because I was making another pasta bake, when the door to Roy’s cabin swung open and crashed into the wall. He grabbed the doorframe when the boat listed heavily to port.

  ‘It’s our shift in half an hour Chris,’ he said, his face pressed up against the doorframe. ‘Will the food be ready in time? What is it, more pasta?’

  I grabbed the knife I’d forgotten to put away before it slid across the worktop and skewered me. ‘Of course it’s fucking pasta. Yeah should be ready. If I can keep it in the pan. This is fucking ridiculous.’

  ‘You should have just heated something up,’ Benoit said from the dining table. He was anchoring himself down by clamping his hands on the edge of the table while trying to read a book.

  ‘It was calm twenty minutes ago,’ I said, trying to hold onto the sauce pan and make sure I didn’t slide into the other side of the boat.

  ‘Whose turn is it Chris,’ Roy asked.

  Fuck, it’s his go I think.

  ‘Yours,’ I told him.

  On mine and Roy’s shifts, we’d take turns in letting the other try to sleep. One of us would keep an eye on things while the other stretched out on the seats at the back of the cockpit. The heavy waterproofs can be quite insulating. We weren’t sure if the others did the same on their shifts, but Javier caught us literally napping a few times and never mentioned it.

  Roy took advantage of the main cabin being relatively level to run across to the dining table. We lurched to starboard just as he sat down. ‘I don’t really think it matters whose turn it is tonight,’ he said, doing the same as Benoit and gripping onto the edge of the table.

  The hatch opened up and a sheet of water poured onto the stairs, splashing down to the cabin’s wooden floor. Elena’s hooded face appeared in the opening. She screamed something in Spanish, the noise created by the wind and rain almost drowning her out. All I made out was Javier’s name.

  I looked to Benoit, but he just shook his head and shouted, ‘What?’

  Elena took a deep breath and tried again. ‘Send Javier up here. It’s turned really bad.’

  Benoit forced his way out from behind the table, just as the door to Javier and Elena’s cabin opened. ‘I am here,’ the dishevelled looking Spaniard said. ‘Do not worry. I am coming.’

  The temperature in the cabin dropped dramatically in the time it took Javier to get outside and close the hatch behind him.

  Just a few seconds later the hatch opened again and two sets of legs appeared. It was Elena helping Aurelie down the stairs.

  ‘Roy and Chris,’ Elena said. There was an obvious desperation in her voice. ‘You need to go up and help Javier.’

  ‘Aurelie,’ Benoit said, getting to his feet.

  ‘She hit her head,’ Elena said.

  Just as Elena spoke, Aurelie’s head lolled back to show blood on her forehead. Her eyes were closed and she looked in pain. Benoit rushed to her side and helped Elena carry his wife to their cabin in the aft.

  I was struggling to get everything secured in the galley, while Roy was also struggling to get his waterproofs on. All the while the boat was now rolling from side to side at unimaginable angles. Sometimes it felt like we’d carry on rolling all the way over. I cringed at every noise, worrying about the things I hadn’t secured properly.

  By the time I got to Roy, he was just zipping his coat up.

  ‘I’ll go up,’ he said, now frantically trying to stick the Velcro flaps down over the zip. ‘See you up there.’

  He closed the hatch behind him, muffling the storm outside. The floor was now soaking wet, making it even harder to get these fucking trousers on over my shorts. I quickly got the boots and coat on.

  My hood was immediately blown back off my head when I got outside. I couldn’t tell if it was rain or ocean water hitting me in the face. I spun around and closed the hatch, then tried to find Javier for instructions.

  Next to the boat there was something so bizarre I thought I must be imagining it. The lights from our boat illuminated a wall of water next to us. It was huge. Too many fish to count were swimming past, some of them above me. I looked up to see all the different colours shimmering beneath the surface of the water.

  ‘Harness him Roy!’ I heard Javier shout.

  I glanced around to see where his voice had come from.

  Before I could find him, Roy shouted, ‘Hold on.’

  I reached my hands out to grab something, but was hit hard in the face. It felt like someone struck me with a shovel. As I flew through the air, the mainsail above me was engulfed in water. The same colourful fish I’d just seen looked like they were trying to escape the water, like salmon leaping upstream.

  Then I was in the water. I was in the Atlantic fucking Ocean, tumbling over and over again beneath the surface. The shock of the freezing cold water made me want to take in a breath. I tried swimming, the heavy waterproof clothing hampering my attempts to escape.

  Which way is up? Fuck. This is bad. Javier told us a hundred times to put on a life jacket whenever we went up top.

  But then my head was out of the water. I took in a lungful of air, desperately slapping my arms around to stop myself going under again. I coughed and spluttered, searching the water’s surface.

  The Penelope was below me, really far below me. As I looked around at the expanse of the water, it looked like an optical illusion. Then I realised they were in bottom of the trough, and I was as far away from the bottom as possible, on the peak of the wave by the looks of it.

  I started swimming towards them, the immense panic making me move my already numbing arms and legs. The boat disappeared and I was behind a black wall of water, the peak of it above me and getting further and further away.

  I’m sliding down a wall of water here. What the actual fuck?

  This is where I die then, drowning in the middle of the Atlantic.

  The water was so dark I couldn’t even see my red and yellow waterproof clothing beneath the surface.

  The Penelope appeared on the ridge of a wave above me. We’d exchanged positions, so I was now in the trough. Somebody was standing at the edge of the boat. They dived into the water and were completely submerged for too long. For too long a moment, I didn’t think they would resurface, dragged under and taken away by something horrible.

  A head appeared, following by two arms, forcing their way out of the water and back in to propel them forwards. It was Roy. I could see his face, grimaced and resolute, coming for me.

  I kicked out my legs, trying to help him close the distance. I couldn’t fight against the water, it was too strong. Roy on the other hand was almost surfing the wave. He was getting closer every second.

  The sight of him, surging towards me actually made a lump form in my throat. I swallowed hard to force it back down. I swam with all the energy I had left, not wanting Roy’s efforts go to waste. I could at least try and stop myself getting dragged further away from him.

  The water was rushing past me and pulling me with it. I stopped to try and get my breath back, the force of the water too much. I ripped away the Velcro and fumbled at the zip of my waterproof coat, before wriggling my numb arms out of the sleeves. Before I could even think about swimming again, I was swept backwards, up and out of the trough.

  ‘Fuck!’ I screamed. I was moving further away from them again. I frantically searched for Roy. The boat was still there, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. The water’s spray was lashing my face.

  ‘Chris,’ Roy shouted. ‘Chris.’

  I spotted him, his head bobbing up and down behind the choppy water. He was really close to me, about ten feet away, his left hand stretched out to me.

  Does he think he can reach me from there?

  ‘Swim Chris,’ he shouted over the storm. ‘I’m too tired.’

  For fuck’s sake Royston. Thanks for telling me that.

  I started swimming. My arms felt like they w
eren’t my own, just two giant sausages hanging from my shoulders. I heard and saw them slap against the water but didn’t feel a thing.

  It was definitely easier without the big coat.

  I bet Javier bollocks me for losing it.

  I think that may be optimism Chris. That means you’re expecting to survive this.

  Filled with this new found optimism, I carried on slapping at the water. We were getting closer to each other, with each swing of my big floppy sausages I gradually ate up the short distance.

  I probably look like I’ve never swam before.

  We were really close to each other, just a few inches. But I was so tired and cold. So cold a shark could’ve chewed my legs off and I wouldn’t have noticed.

  Don’t add the fear of sharks to the equation Chris.

  My hand touched his. I tried to grip onto it but I could barely feel my fingers, let alone bend them. I thought I would be dragged away again by a sudden surge, but Roy took my hand and pulled me closer to him. He took the whistle from his life jacket and blew.

  A couple more blows of his whistle and we were being pulled through the water towards the Penelope. I wanted to say something to Roy, thank him for coming for me, but I couldn’t say a single word. He didn’t say anything either. We were both probably desperate to get out of the freezing cold water.

  It seemed to take an eternity to get us back to the boat, and even longer for Javier and Benoit to pull us out. I was dragged out first. I think I tried to tell them to take Roy before me, but I probably just made an incomprehensible noise.

  It felt like the next time I opened my eyes I was laying on my side in a bed, in a ridiculous amount of pain. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. It felt like my teeth were about to shatter.

  However, I’m pretty sure I was naked, with a scantily clad Aurelie in front of me, pressed into my body. Somebody else was close behind me, spooning me. Both had their arms wrapped around me.

  Please be Elena.

  What a wonderful, albeit very painful dream.

  DAY FORTY SEVEN

  Chapter 18: Penelope Cruz

  I woke up when my head hit the wall by my bed. I knew that’s what it was because I’d done it too many times to count. I’m surprised my forehead isn’t constantly black and blue.

  It wasn’t a naked Elena lying behind me after almost drowning. It turned out to be the very hairy Benoit. I’d been in the middle of a Frenchie sandwich. It could have been worse. Roy had apparently been in the middle of a strange incestuous thing.

  I’m pretty sure he only jumped in after me hoping it would lead to him cuddling up to an almost naked Elena. Some dreams do come true.

  I’m told they took us to our beds, stripped us down and hugged us until our body temperatures got back to almost normal. Javier had dropped the sails and battened down the hatches, as they say. Then he’d joined his sister and a naked Roy in bed.

  We rode out the storm like that, lying in those positions. I can remember very little of it, what I can remember felt like a very odd fever dream. That wasn’t too far from the truth, as Roy and I both had a fever for a few days afterwards.

  They took care of us, force feeding us Tylenol and soup, or soup and Tylenol. I began to crave pasta.

  Javier blames himself for taking us into the storm. He’d not expected it to be so bad. He knew it was coming but thought it would be manageable. If he had a more experienced crew it might have been. He probably just had a bit too much confidence in us. We’d been knocked off course quite considerably, but he reckoned it would only add one day to the journey.

  I thanked them all profusely, obviously too many times as they all told me to shut up. I’ve cooked most of the meals since, mostly because of the guilt I feel. By not immediately putting my life jacket on, or a harness, something Javier drilled into us, I almost killed Roy.

  I dressed in shorts and t-shirt and opened my cabin door. The Frenchies were sat on the seats around the table, kissing very loudly.

  ‘Come on guys,’ I said.

  They noisily disconnected from each other and turned to look at me.

  ‘You’ve been married for seven years now,’ I told them. ‘You shouldn’t be kissing like teenagers anymore.’

  Benoit looked at his wife and smirked.

  ‘Sorry Christophe,’ Aurelie said. Javier’s nickname for me seemed to have stuck with the others as well.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I told them. ‘You carry on. I need some fresh air.’ I walked up the stairs to the already open hatch. The smell of the ocean flowed in on the salty breeze. Behind me the Frenchies started their sloppy kissing again.

  I walked up into the cockpit only to find Roy kissing Elena. They were sat on the back seats, blocking my path to the life jackets and completely oblivious to my presence.

  I stood and watched them for a few seconds, a big smile on my face. Then I realised how weird that is, so I very loudly cleared my throat. They both stopped and spun around to face me on the seat.

  ‘Hello Christophe,’ Elena said, smiling up at me, her hand still resting on Roy’s thigh.

  ‘Does your brother know about this little thing that’s going on?’

  ‘Yes he does,’ Javier said from behind me. I spun around to find him sat at the helm, defiantly facing the other way.

  ‘Well that’s weird,’ I said. ‘Doing it in front of your brother.’

  ‘We are not doing it,’ Elena exclaimed.

  ‘We’re on a very small yacht Chris,’ Roy said. ‘Where should we go?’

  ‘I don’t know. Your room maybe?’

  ‘Javier told us off for being too noisy in my room the other day,’ Roy replied sheepishly.

  ‘Yes he did,’ Javier called out.

  I laughed much harder than Javier would have liked. He turned and shot me a look of disgust.

  A few hours later it was mine and Roy’s shift. We were in the cockpit, both awake for once.

  ‘You kept that quiet,’ I said. ‘How long has it been going on for?’

  ‘Four days.’

  ‘Four days? How have I not noticed?’

  ‘We were discreet.’

  ‘You must have been.’

  Hang on. We both still had a fever four days ago.

  ‘We were still pretty much bed bound then,’ I reminded him.

  Roy stood at the helm, smiling as he stared at the mass of water in front of us. ‘I know. That’s when it started.’

  ‘All I got was soup,’ I complained.

  ‘Do you think it’s too soon? Am I disrespecting Sarah or something?’

  ‘No I don’t think so, but it’s obviously up to you.’

  ‘I really like Elena.’

  ‘Yeah I figured that out.’

  ‘I mean I really like her,’ he explained. ‘I couldn’t stop myself. But it was like Sarah was in the room, watching me.’

  ‘That sounds a bit scary, and kinky. I’m sure Sarah would be happy you’ve found someone you really like. Life’s too short mate. Just do whatever makes you happy.’

  ‘Jack and Beth will be nearly half way through their quarantine now,’ Roy mused, obviously trying to change the subject.

  ‘Yep, hopefully they’re doing okay. The Rodriguez’s too. It’s a good job Canada is okay, and will still need lawyers and shit, because Jack wouldn’t be able to do any manual work. There’s no chance he’d be able make anything. He’s useless at DIY.’

  ‘I wonder why they never attacked Canada,’ Roy said. ‘Whoever they may be.’

  ‘Maybe they thought the virus would travel up there from America.’

  Roy removed his glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of his t-shirt. ‘Yes I suppose. It takes a long time to get anywhere in America. Maybe the Chinese and the Russians weren’t aware of that.’

  ‘I think they have access to maps,’ I told him.

  He put his glasses back on. ‘Haven’t we spoken about this before?’

  ‘Probably,’ I replied. ‘There’s not much we haven’t talked abo
ut on this never ending boat trip. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you about your family in England.’

  ‘No, don’t think you have,’ Roy said, and then stayed silent.

  ‘So?’ I asked.

  ‘Just my mum and sister. Not heard anything from my dad for years.’

  ‘Are they in Norwich?’

  ‘My mum is. My sister lives in London. I think I’ll check on them and then get myself a boat, something like this.’ He gestured to the helm’s dashboard. ‘Then I’ll sail back to Canada.’

  ‘To be with Elena?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, why not? And because, like you say, Canada is still the same.’

  ‘I think you should go for it. Good for you mate. Do you think you’ll be able to sail it on your own?’

  ‘I can only try. I’ll see if anyone wants to come with me. Javier has been a good teacher though. What about you? What are going to do?’

  ‘Find Joanne. After that I’ll go to Middlesbrough to find my parents.’

  ‘What do you think we’re going to find in Europe?’ Roy asked. ‘Zombies everywhere? Or Chinese and Russian soldiers killing everyone?’

  ‘Fuck knows.’

  ‘Is that a boat?’ Roy said, pointing behind me.

  I pushed myself away the side of the Penelope’s hull and spun around, trying to find what he was pointing at. There was another boat on the horizon, seemingly travelling in the same direction as us.

  ‘I’ll go and get the others,’ I told him, and walked over to the stairs.

  Half an hour had passed and Javier was still peering through his binoculars at the new boat.

  ‘She is angled towards us slightly,’ he said. ‘We might get close when we cross paths.’

  ‘Do you think it is more pirates?’ Aurelie asked.

  ‘Not this far out,’ Javier answered. ‘Probably just people like us, trying to get home. I’ll keep a watch on them.’

  Javier was right. We were going to get close, very close by the looks of it. A couple of hours passed with all six of us in the cockpit, staring at the boat. We could make out the people on aboard, and even exchanged a few waves.