Lenny said, “Would take us about six hours to get close enough.”
Beckett’s head snapped up. Were they actually discussing going? He hadn’t considered it a possibility. He hoped. But actually going had seemed a long shot.
Captain Aria said, “I will give you the chance to ask Rebecca, Sarah, and the group. If they are finished with the bulk of their research and willing to go out of the way, we’ll discuss the change of course.”
Beckett said, “Oh my — thank —” Her hand shot up, stopping him mid sentence.
“I’m not saying yes. Ask the researchers, they get to make the final decision.”
Beckett said, “Okay, definitely.” He made to roll up the charts, but Captain Aria stopped him.
“We’ll need those. Leave them.”
Beckett made an awkward half-bow out of the room and jogged to the galley.
“Rebecca! Sarah!”
Chapter 8
Luna lay curled around her knees, staring at her arm, at the band of the watch, dazed. How long had she been here? For too many long uncountable hours. She sent the pooled water away with a splash. It filled immediately.
Her ears hurt from the deafening noise, and now her whole head hurt. like it was squeezed, pressure, noise, ache, stress. Her jaw was constantly clenched. She was shivering cold. Her skin hurt because of the wet-cold-clammy everything.
How many hours? She shifted her arm to allow herself a glimpse of Beckett’s grandfather’s watch. It didn’t help. Time had passed, too much and too little, an endless loop of night and day — and she had thought herself found, but no.
She was lost.
She kept thinking about what her brothers would say: she was an idiot. A dying alone, idiot. A couldn’t do anything right, not even the most basic things, deserved what happened to her — because what kind of person ends up like this, alone, terrified, lost, making these kinds of mistakes? Life and death. Bad knots, poor directions, unsafe tent positions. These weren’t just mistakes. These were the kind of things that caused calamity. People could die. Would. Did. And she was a navigator. A part of a nomad family. A paddler. And she was going to die lost, alone, on land. A storm raining down.
A never-ending storm.
Because of never ending mistakes. Bad knots.
And she thought she was going to live with Beckett on a mountainside. Happy.
God, she was an idiot.
She couldn’t even cry anymore, her head hurt too bad, her insides dried and withered, in opposition to her sopping wet outsides.
She wrapped around Beckett’s watch and really did Go Bird. Past thinking, past hoping, past surviving.
Chapter 9
He had interrupted the hung-over munching and commiserating of the group as they swigged coffee and amicably bickered over who drank most and who suffered it more. Dan seemed to win with most. Rebecca felt it a lot. She held a wet compress to her head moaning when Beckett yelled her name.
Sarah said, “Shhhh, Beckett, we’re right here.”
Beckett slid into the booth beside Jeffrey across from Rebecca. “I have a thing to ask. I—”
Rebecca groaned and dropped her head down on an arm. “I can’t think right now Beckett; can’t we sit here quietly and not talk?” She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
“Not really, I don’t have time.”
She slid to an upright position.
Dan grabbed the coffee pitcher and refilled mugs. “From the look on Army’s face we’re going to need the caffeine.” He sloshed the pitcher back to the counter and slid beside Sarah who immediately draped her head and arm across his shoulders, lazily.
Beckett looked around at the group, hung-over, tired, barely knew him, busy researching, and he was going to ask them to aim their ship in a different direction. To sail into a storm. He swigged coffee. “Luna is gone. I believe she’s in trouble.”
Rebecca lifted her head.
“I have her coordinates, but there’s a big storm, and she’s in it alone. I spoke to Captain Aria about it. It would take us six hours to get there. But I need you all to agree.” Beckett’s bandaged hands were out in front. He hurriedly put them under the table. He wanted this be a no-guilt decision.
Rebecca looked groggy and half asleep, with a crease on one of her cheeks, a bit of dried drool on the corner of her mouth, and her bangs stuck straight in the air. She twisted in her seat and spoke over her arm to Sarah in the next booth. “Didn’t I tell you, Sarah? I said, ‘This guy is going to be trouble with his dimples and tattoos and those abs.’ I said, ‘Yum,’ and I said, ‘He’s going to cause nothing but trouble. He’ll smile at me and then I’ll do anything he wants.’”
Sarah raised her head off Dan’s shoulder joined in pretending as if Beckett wasn’t there. “You did say exactly that, but if you’ll remember I disagreed; I said he wasn’t your type. He was neither pasty enough, doughy enough, nor was he a comic book reader. I told you you would be fine.”
Rebecca sighed. “We are done with the research we needed, everything else is just cake.”
Sarah said, “That it is.”
Rebecca said, “And he wants to ride into a storm for love. How am I supposed to say no to that — so I can continue to celebrate that my research is over?”
Sarah said, “My head wants to vote ‘no’ on the ‘continuing to celebrate.’ And it is for love.”
“What about you, Dr Mags? Any reason why we shouldn’t let Beckett talk me into this romantic folly?”
Dr Mags said, “Well I didn’t want to mention it before, but this has been a pretty boring trip, you know, except for the whales, and the turtles, and the injuries, and the nomads. When I think about it most of the exciting things that have happened have been because of Beckett. So, why not?”
“Jeffrey?”
Jeffrey bobbed his head, “Not a big fan of storms, but I’ll do what everyone else wants.”
“Okay, Dan?”
“One of my basic life principles is to never ask an Army guy what direction my ship should be pointing.” He grinned and tightened his arm around Sarah’s shoulder. “That being said, I’m a sucker for a romantic story, aren’t I baby?”
Sarah kissed his jawline. “You cried like a baby at our wedding.”
“True that. I’m in.”
Rebecca dramatically sighed and turned to Beckett. “You want me to agree to riding into the storm so you can save this love of your life?”
Beckett smiled. “If you want I can bring up my Calvin and Hobbes comic book, prove that I’m a comic book nerd to sweeten the deal.” He batted his eyes and made his dimple really dimple.
Rebecca laughed, begrudgingly. “Fine. But now that we’re in close proximity, I see you really aren’t my type at all. Sarah was right, despite the epic tattoos — I’ve always dreamed of a guy with an eagle on his back — you aren’t doughy enough. I definitely shouldn’t be with someone cuter than me. So, fine. We’ll go rescue your girlfriend. Definitely.”
“Thank you.” Beckett stood. “Thank you so much everyone, I don’t deserve this much, but Luna does, thank you.” He raced up the steps to tell captain Aria to pretty please sail their ship into the Sierra Squalls.
Chapter 10
The rain slowed to a steady downpour. Relentless but not as threatening. A lot less loud. Luna stuck her head out of her tent and looked around. The whole place looked flattened, like a giant had stepped on her camp, crushed everything, and left pooled water, six inches deep in most places, including a fresh pond pressing against the tent.
Her tent was damming a newly formed lake. Great.
She climbed out and sloshed a few feet away to pee, then poop. Rain poured down her face. There weren’t any dry spots because most of the tree limbs were down. Crash! — another branch fell causing Luna to scramble her pants back up and dive for the tent. She huddled around her knees.
Night was coming on.
Nothing she could do about any of this until tomorrow.
She hadn’t even b
een out long enough to check her boards.
But then again, did she really want to know?
Chapter 11
The H2OPE followed the tail end of the storm as it swept through the Sierra Islands. A bank of clouds blustered and preened up ahead, looking mighty and terrifying, but Beckett tried not to look. Captain Aria aimed for the coordinates — where Luna might be. Possibly.
Dan explained that squalls in this area would sit on one spot and stir for three days. He called it “plaguing.” Which seemed apt. There would be a break of seven days, and three more days of squall again. The whole season.
Luna had picked the wrong week.
Her safety depended on how long it took her to get through this area. But also, no one should ever try to paddle board through the Sierra Islands. Not during squall season. Not without a backup plan.
Beckett was the backup plan, except there wasn’t a plan, just finding her again, in a different part of the massive ocean.
But Beckett was grateful the storm was gone. It would have sucked if the ship had been pitching and tossing in a storm that he asked the crew to sail into. But also, the storm was past. Had passed. If something had happened to Luna in the storm, it was probably too late. Probably.
According to the coordinates, Luna was near here, or had been on that last day. Possibly one of these (many) inlets.
The H2OPE anchored offshore in the evening and sent up a few flares.
Dan drove Beckett in the Zodiac to the two closest inlets, but Luna wasn’t to be found. Dark came on. They returned to the ship without her and the only thing to do was be patient. Morning. They would search more at first light.
Beckett and Dan sat in one of the booths in the galley and Dan asked, “Are you sure she’s worth it? I mean, I get that we have to save her life, but are you sure about the whole other part?”
Beckett said, “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure.”
“But how do you know — you just met her, right?”
Beckett held a glass of water, feeling the now familiar pitch and roll of the ocean under him. “You know how the world feels tragically wrong, you’re following orders and trying to get through to your next duty? I met Luna and she made me forget all of that. I forget to be worried when I’m with her. But also, and this doesn’t make a lot of sense, I want to make sure she’s okay.”
Dan dropped into the booth. “Before Sarah, I was going to reenlist, ten more years because I had nothing, no family, no home. I figured I might as well go East and die in the war. At least I’d die with honor. Because I had nothing else. Until I met Sarah and her work, and now I’m a cook, saving the whales, waking up with her in my arms — now I have something.”
“Luna’s my something. And I have to find her.”
Dan nodded “Okay then, I ought to stop asking questions and help you.” And with that Dan went to bed and a few deep breaths later, Beckett followed him to the bunks.
Chapter 12
Dan drove the Zodiac, while Beckett perched in the front, scanning, searching, occasionally calling, “Luna! Luna!”
He thought he’d see her boards, tied up in the water, possibly dragged up a little way, although he wasn’t sure. He wondered if Waterfolk would hide their boards while they were on land and wished he knew anything, anything at all. He called “Luna!” As the Zodiac sped buzzing around the rocky outcropping of a small island. Dan slowed down as they putted close, scanning the beach. Beckett cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Luna!” again.
Chapter 13
Luna’s eyes jerked open. That was an engine, buzzing, in the distance. Her heart raced. Crap. She was alone. Alone alone. There was a chance that the engine had a friendly person attached to it. A helpful, kind, generous person. But that chance was very very small. Her breath gasped. She glanced around the broken tent at her sopping wet EVERYTHNG. There was a real possibility that Luna, alone, was in a dangerous situation. Best case scenario? She lost her stuff. Worst case? Crap. She definitely didn’t want any worse cases.
But it was seriously hard to think this all through because her head, her heart, her mind, were all broken. That was the only explanation for how she felt: broke, near-drowned, sodden, desperate. Maybe she could stand on the edge of the water and wave her arms and beg to be taken on board. Surrender.
God, she wasn’t capable of this. She wasn’t strong or brave or —
She grabbed the radio (battery dead because of the lack of sun), her wet sack, and the water desalination kit with Beckett’s name scrawled on it, unzipped the tent, looked both ways, and lugged it all to the tree line, hurrying, splashing through ankle deep puddles all the way. When she made it to the tree line, she shoved further in through the underbrush and stashed everything under a bushy mass of ferns. She tried to calm her mind and breath to listen — the engine still sounded very far away.
She raced back and yanked up the tent’s stakes, her body moving without her brains, heaved a corner of the tent (still pretty full of gear), and dragged it through the muck to the hiding spot under the trees. The tent billowed. She threw her body on top, begging the tent to collapse, but it obstinately continued being a tent. “Damn it, deflate, tent. Deflate.” She twisted and folded it, and dragged it farther into the woods, hoping it couldn’t be seen. It was bright yellow — it needed to be dark and easy to hide.
The engine was coming closer — she dropped down beside the tent and wrapped her arms around her knees and pressed her kneecaps into her eyes — if it made it to the inlet, it would see her boards for sure — Breathe gasp breathe gasp breathe gasp breathe —
Chapter 14
Beckett’s voice was hoarse. “What I need is a bullhorn.”
“I don’t think she could hear you over the engine anyways. And she can hear the engine. She’ll come out.”
Would she? That seemed like another bit of Waterfolk information that Beckett lacked. Did Nomadic Waterfolk trust strangers on motorized boats? When Beckett had lived on the Outpost he had found them to be very untrusting. Of him, personally, perhaps especially.
They turned into another inlet. This looked more promising. So far the islands had been banked with cliffs, or other inhabitable outcroppings, but this one had a sloping hill, trees, ferns, even rocks to tie off her boards. But there weren’t any boards. They puttered the engine and scanned the hill above.
“I should get out. Check the hill there.”
“Sure,” Dan spun the Zodiac to the right and deftly up against a rock. “Step careful.”
Beckett climbed from the rocking Zodiac to the slanting rock and then scaled it, trying to look casual and knowledgeable. He jumped from the rocks to land. This would be a perfect inlet. He scaled the hill, jumping across small gullies, pushing aside dripping limbs, slipping in mud, to the top and looked down. There were plenty of places to harbor, but no signs of life. After scanning the hill and around at the horizon he jogged, slipping and sliding, back to the Zodiac.
Dan asked, “Next one?”
Chapter 15
Dan drove the Zodiac around yet another small island and into a tree covered inlet — Beckett yelled, “A board, wait — Luna’s board. It’s right there!” He stood, the Zodiac rocking under his excitement.
Dan said, “Hold on Romeo, don’t swim it, that’s why we have a boat.”
“It’s right there!” Beckett scanned up and down the hill. A waterfall rushed down the middle of the slope. The banks of the river were fern-lined. Further along was a wooded area. No sign of Luna.
Her board, Steve, was right here, but… he half-stood and peered around. Luna’s trailing board, Boosy, was crashed against some rocks. It did not look good. The pot was overturned. Tree was —
His heart raced. The hill was deserted. Dan pulled to a boulder, and Beckett leaped from the boat as Dan tied it off. Dan called, “I’m coming too.”
“Good, I’m going to the top.” Beckett bounded up the sloping terrain, jumping back and forth across the downward rushing gully, stumbling
and splashing.
_________________
Dan scrambled up the hill toward the woods. He was ankle deep in mud so he jogged, splashing through a marshy muck-filled field. He reached the tree line as Beckett yelled, “Nothing, nobody — you see anything?”
Dan peered into the heavily shadowed woods. He crept through the darkness, searching. Something looked weird — a billowing shape glowed a bit farther in. He moved closer to inspect it and found a sopping, overturned, twisted, broken, tent.
“A tent!” Dan spun and caught sight of a lump of a person huddled around her knees, it took two steps to get to her. Luna, her hands pressed to her ears.
He reached out and touched her shoulder and she started screaming.
Chapter 16
Luna pushed away, screaming and holding her ears, her eyes clamped shut. Dan said, “Hey, I’m with—” Luna pulled farther away, her screams loud and terrible and terrified.
Dan clutched her shoulder, afraid she might fight or run away.
He yelled, “Beckett!” Footsteps thundered down the hill and splashed through the ferns.
Beckett dropped to his knees and grabbed her by the shoulders. Her screams grew louder and more frantic. “It’s me. It’s me Beckett.”
He tried to pull her toward his chest, but she sobbed and shoved and struggled, and frantically tried to get away. “Stop! I’ve got to go I have to paddle, I have to paddle — stop, you’re hurting me!” She swung wildly and scratched Beckett across the face.
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