Beached

by Brenda Beem

  “They’re horseback riding. Your families could keep charging their phones in their cars. Mine couldn’t.”

  “Horseback?” Makala’s eyes lit up. “Your family rides horses?”

  “Yeah. They’re camping and herding cattle from Idaho to Texas.”

  “Do you know how to ride a horse?” Makala’s smile beamed.

  “I do.” Nick showed Makala pictures of his family that he’d taken the summer before. “The official on the radio said the government was restoring cell towers and nationalizing the cell companies. We probably need to hook up to the government cell program, but we don’t know how. Text messages are the easiest and least costly form of communication, so the government probably just lets them go through for now.”

  Zoë slammed down her fork. “Why are you guys all talking about cell phones? This is our wedding reception. Doesn’t anyone have a speech? And you’re supposed to give us presents, you know.”

  Presents? Was she serious? Even Dylan’s mouth hung open.

  “Good idea,” Angelina smiled. “Nick and I wanted you to have a wedding cake. We didn’t have much to work with, so this is our present to you. We hope you like it.” She went to the freezer that had been turned off since the start of the trip and pulled out what appeared to be a pile of snowballs.

  Zoë grinned and sat up tall.

  Angelina held up her creation for us all to see. “We added sugar and vanilla to some of the cooked rice, squeezed the rice into balls, and stacked them. I sprinkled powdered sugar over the whole thing, and voila. A wedding rice-ball cake. Anyone want to try it?”

  Zoë held up her hand. “Wait. Dylan and I need to cut the cake!”

  Angelina frowned. “I think it will fall apart if you try to cut it.”

  Dylan found a small knife. “Angelina and Nick. Thank you. This is great. We’ll cut just the top ball. Gently. Someone take our pictures, okay?”

  Zoë and Dylan pulled off the top rice-ball, cut into it, and fed each other bites. Zoë shoved a piece at Dylan, most of which fell apart and landed on the floor. Boots had it gone in seconds. Nick took their picture with his cell.

  Angelina’s creation was truly delicious but, I couldn’t stop feeling guilty. There were people starving on the beach.

  Makala stood and announced she was going to make a butterfly mobile out of the butterfly pictures and a coat hanger, and give it to the bride and groom. She hung her head. “I really wanted it for myself, but it is Zoë and Dylan’s wedding, so I’m going to give it to them.”

  While everyone chuckled, Dylan thanked her and suggested they share it. Makala’s face broke into a grin.

  I excused myself and went to the girls’ cabin to find something to give the happy couple. I had some jewelry, but nothing as grand as what Zoë had found on the yacht in Grays Harbor. My clothes wouldn’t fit Zoë. I rifled through my small supply of stuff, and then found it. The perfect gift. I wrapped it in a pillowcase and handed it to Dylan.

  He unwrapped the pillowcase gently and looked down at my gift for a long while. Zoë picked it up and scowled.

  “Turn it around,” the wedding party cried.

  Zoë turned a framed picture around so the group could see it. It was a photo of Dylan, Cole, and me when the boys were around eight and I was six. Mom had shoved it into one of the bags of clothes she’d packed for me.

  “Sis. I don’t know what to say.” Dylan kept his head lowered.

  “Cole would want you to be happy. This is from both of us.”

  Dylan gave me a hug, and hurried up top.

  “Dylan, where are you going?” Zoë cried.

  “He’s checking to make sure the boat’s okay.” I held up my glass of water. “I want to make a toast.” I gave the first of many toasts to the beautiful bride and when Dylan returned, the happy couple.

  Zoë beamed all evening.

  Dylan and I exchanged worried glances.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The exhausted crew finally went to bed. I’d never stayed up alone on deck before, but promised everyone I would be fine. I’d wake Nick and Angelina when I got too tired. I watched for some sign from the beach. Maybe Takumi would set off a flare or wave a torch around. But there was nothing. And no text messages.

  It didn’t make any sense that we were getting our messages and he wasn’t. Takumi was even closer to the cell tower and should have great reception. But, for whatever reason, he didn’t. Or, maybe he didn’t want to communicate with me. Maybe he had changed his mind and had chosen Kat. Maybe he hadn’t known how to tell me, so he just didn’t.

  And what was the deal with Zoë? I’d just thought she was self-centered. What if she really couldn’t deal with the way the world had changed? What if she was really pregnant?

  My thoughts kept me wide awake. I fed the fire, stayed wrapped in a blanket, and every hour walked around the boat checking to make sure we weren’t about to crash into anything.

  Around midnight, the military scavengers finally headed back to the base. I wondered what treasures remained on some of the big ships. A find of toilet paper would be huge. I decided to talk to the crew about boarding one of the ships before we left the area.

  Off our bow, a short ways away, a huge cruise ship floated. It was over twenty stories tall and the size of a city block. It would be a good place to search for supplies, even though the military had been all over it. I studied the huge boat closely, trying to find a way for us to get on board. It seemed to be listing hard to one side. I hadn’t noticed that before, but then, I’d been busy.

  Suddenly, I heard the creak and groan of bending metal. The entire cruise ship shook, and then crashed with an enormous splash onto its side. The splash created huge waves. And the waves were headed right at us.

  “Wave! Hold on,” I yelled to the sleeping crew, and turned the wheel to aim Whistler into the waves. But without the sails or power, the boat didn’t respond. I braced myself. Dylan, Angelina, and Nick raced up on deck.

  “What’s going…?” Dylan stared at the approaching ten-foot wave.

  I gestured. “That cruise ship just flipped over.” The first wave hit us from the side. We rocked so hard I had to hold on tight to keep from falling off.

  Whistler righted herself and we braced for the second wave. As the wave grew near, the cruise ship shuddered, then sank, stern first, into the sea. The sea above the ship began to fill with bubbles. Frothy water churned and fizzed.

  A second wave hit. Dylan and Nick wrapped their arms around the mast as they worked to raise the sail. The third wave headed toward us was much smaller. With just a little of our sail up, I was able to turn Whistler into it.

  Nick and Dylan hurried to pull up and out our sails. I checked the boats that were still scattered around in the bay, searching for any that were listing hard. We watched the air bubbles spread over the sea. Dylan and Nick finally had both the main sail and the jib up. They were securing the lines and facing away from where we were headed.

  A life raft that had come off the cruise ship bounced over the water where the ship had gone down. Suddenly, it sank in the frothy water the sunken cruise ship had created.

  Angelina grabbed my shoulder. “Did you see that? The little boat just disappeared in the bubbles.”

  “Ready to come about!” I screamed.

  “What?” Dylan dropped the line he held and stared at me.

  “Bring the main in. We have to get away. Boats are sinking in the bubbles.” I nodded at the churning water.

  Nick ran to the stern to grab the jib line. Dylan held his hands on his hips. “We need to head into the waves.”

  “No! The waves are not our biggest problem. The sea is full of air. Everything in it sinks. Watch.”

  A tugboat that had been floating close by the cruise ship drifted near to the churning water. Suddenly it disappeared beneath the surface. Just like the life raft had.

  Dylan gasped and brought in the main.

  We were only about a hundred feet from the bubbling sea. I
spun the wheel. Dylan let out the main. The sail luffed.

  Dylan screamed. “Turn us!”

  I shoved the wheel around as far as I could. “There isn’t enough wind.”

  “Do something!” Nick yelled.

  We watched a small pleasure boat sink in the froth. We were fifty feet away.

  Whistler was still floating towards it.

  A gust of wind hit the boat. For a moment, the sail filled and we heeled over. I yelled as I gripped the wheel to keep from falling.

  Then the wind died.

  A tugboat, dead ahead, sank in the air bubbles.

  Another blast of wind overpowered the sails. Whistler spun around. We were finally moving away from the bubbles.

  “That was close.” My legs felt like rubber and I plopped down. Angelina took the wheel.

  We left the bay and entered the open waters. A steady wind filled the sails and we picked up speed.

  We were headed away from Santa Barbara… and Takumi.

  “I’ll go down and check on Makala.” Angelina squeezed my shoulder.

  “Get some rest. I’ll take over,” Nick told Dylan and me.

  Dylan tried to argue with him, but Nick kept reminding Dylan that it was his wedding night. Dylan hadn’t slept for days either.

  I left the boys and crept below.

  Angelina stood in the doorway of the girls’ cabin. “Makala didn’t even wake up. I’ll stay on deck and help Nick.”

  I nodded and climbed next to Makala, and Boots came and snuggled. I buried my face in my pillow and let the tears flow.

  We’d left Takumi behind. I’d never see my grandma again. My best friend from home was trapped in the snow. Cole was dead. And there was nothing I could do to make any of it better.

  It was still dark, when I woke up to still-rough seas. Makala sucked her thumb and rolled back and forth with the waves. I checked my cell and saw I no longer had service.

  Unable to sleep, I put my phone away, and waited for morning.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I don’t know how long I lay there, trying to force sleep to come. I couldn’t keep going without it. But Dylan was yelling up on deck and he sounded upset. I groaned and wondered, “What now?”

  I rubbed my eyes and felt around on the bed. Somehow Makala and Boots had left the cabin. I hadn’t heard them, so I must have gotten at least some sleep.

  Nick called out, “Twenty-three feet.”

  “Drop anchor,” Dylan ordered.

  The boat shuddered and I heard a splash. We’d returned to the island of Santa Cruz. I hopped out of bed and climbed up top. The tacky wedding decorations were gone. The only reminder of the wedding fiasco was Zoë. She wore a sheer white nightgown under her heavy jacket. I couldn’t believe she’d actually stolen a nightgown from the yacht in Grays Harbor.

  I joined the rest of the crew, who were staring out at the long beach dotted with kayaks, rowboats, and half a dozen tents.

  Were my parents in one of the tents? My heart thumped in my chest.

  “Good. You’re finally awake,” Dylan grinned. “Want to go ashore and find Mom and Dad?”

  “I’ll get a jacket,” I said and headed below to check my cell. Still no service. The time was eight a.m. Early, but not too early… I was surprised the people onshore weren’t up and out of their tents already. I shrugged. Maybe they were on island time.

  At the last minute, I grabbed one of the water bottles we kept refilling and a leftover rice ball. Dylan rowed ashore while I ate. I jumped out of the dinghy and held onto the line while Dylan climbed out and pulled the dinghy a ways up the beach.

  “It’s strange everyone is still asleep.” I tied the line to a beach log.

  “Maybe they partied late last night.” Dylan glanced nervously around at the tents.

  We hadn’t talked about it, but I knew he was as worried about seeing our parents as I was. There was no good way to tell them Cole was gone.

  I took a deep breath and walked toward the closest tent. Flies on the beach were horrible and grew worse as I neared the small dome. I slapped the canvas door and a swarm of flies flew out. That was gross. So was the terrible smell. I held my nose.

  “Hello!” I called. “Hate to wake you. We’re looking for our parents.”

  There was no response. I pounded on the tent again. Dylan and I exchanged looks. He leaned down and opened the flap.

  “Oh, God!” He turned and vomited in the rocky sand.

  I held my nose and peeked inside. Two people were lying on top of sleeping bags. They were covered in flies. At first I couldn’t tell if they were male or female. As I moved closer, I could see that one was a man, the other was a woman.

  Were they our mom and dad?

  “Mom?” I squeaked and entered the tent. A fly crawled out of the mouth of the male. I shuddered and swatted at the flies. They flew up and into my face. I screamed, closed my eyes and covered my nose and mouth.

  Before the flies could settle back down, I knelt beside the woman. Her hair was long and dark. Nothing like my mother’s.

  “Toni! Get out of there. They might be contagious!” Dylan screamed.

  If they were, it was already too late for me. I found a towel and covered the woman’s face. I threw a sweatshirt over the guy. As I backed out, the flies returned.

  Dylan grabbed my arm.

  “Maybe you should keep away from me too,” I told him. “I might be contagious now.”

  “You’re right. But it’s probably too late for me as well.”

  I collapsed on the log we’d tied the dinghy to and smashed three flies between my hands. “Dylan?”

  “What?” Dylan stood staring out at Whistler.

  “Nobody has come out of any of the tents.” I scanned the beach.

  “I know.” Dylan joined me on the log. Gentle waves lapped at the shore. Our boat glistened in the morning light.

  We had five tents left to investigate.

  The excitement we’d felt earlier turned to dread as we approached each tent. The next two tents held dead young men. None of the bodies had any wounds I could see, although I wasn’t willing to touch them or look under their clothing. In one of the tents, the guy had been sick. There was vomit around the bed. But the young couple and the other guy just seemed to have died in their sleep.

  Who would we find in the last three tents? Is this how we’d see our parents––dead and covered in flies? I started to shake. Then I heard a noise. I grabbed Dylan’s arm. “Listen!”

  We squinted at the tent we were about to investigate. Then I heard it again. A moan. Dylan and I looked at one another. Someone was still alive. I ran to the tent. “Mom!” I prayed as I threw back the flap.

  The flies were almost as thick as they had been in the other tents. Although this was one of the smaller tents, there were four people in it. Two children and two adults. None of them were my parents.

  The man opened his eyes, stared at us for a moment, and mouthed, “Water.”

  I scanned the others. One of the kids moved. At least two people were still alive. I ran to the dinghy, grabbed my water bottle, and hurried back.

  “What’s going on?” Angelina called out from Whistler’s deck.

  “What are you doing?” Zoë sounded annoyed.

  I gestured toward the tents. “The people in those tents are dead, but we just found a family. At least two are still alive.”

  “I’m coming ashore,” Zoë yelled.

  “No. Stay back. Let us check things out.” I entered the tent. Dylan held the flap open.

  “Small sips,” I told the man as I held the bottle up to his lips.

  He took a drink and fell back on the sleeping bag. “My family…” he gasped.

  I carefully climbed over arms and legs and went to the child that had been moving. I propped her up. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Here,” I whispered. “Water. I have water.” When she didn’t respond, I poured a tiny bit into her mouth. She coughed and most of the water dribbled down
her chin.

  “Come on!” I begged. “Wake up. Drink.”

  She choked again but opened her mouth. I poured a tiny bit in. This time she swallowed it. I tried again. Just a little. She swallowed again. Four more times I got her to take small sips. Finally, I laid her back down.

  A woman lying next to her was not moving. I started to check her out when I heard a faint whimper. I stepped over the woman to a toddler who was curled up next to her. His eyes stayed closed when I picked him up and carried him outside. I poured a little water into his mouth like I had the little girl. He made a gurgling sound, but swallowed it. I took off my coat and laid him on it.

  Dylan and I pulled the father out of the tent and into the fresh air. I leaned him against a log while Dylan went back for the girl. He laid her on the rocky sand next to her dad.

  I took turns giving them all sips of water until my bottle was empty.

  “I need more water. I’ll be back,” I told the man.

  “There’s no water,” he said in a raspy voice, and grabbed my hand. “Don’t go.”

  “We have water on our boat.” I stood. “I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll go,” Dylan offered.

  I nodded and walked with him toward the dinghy.

  “What about the mom?” I whispered to Dylan when we were far enough away I didn’t think the dad could hear.

  He grimaced. “Dead.”

  “And the rest of the tents?”

  He shook his head.

  My hand flew to my mouth. “Are Mom and––”

  “They aren’t here. There’s another couple. They’re dead too.”

  “We have to stay away from Whistler until we find out what killed all these people. We can’t take an illness back to them,” I whispered.

  “Dylan!” Zoë yelled. “You get back here.”

  “But…!” Dylan whispered to me as he held his hand up to Zoë.

  “No buts. Have them throw supplies at you, or better yet, float them in one of the plastic bins. We are going to be here a while helping this family and we can’t be around anyone until we are sure we aren’t contagious.”