Waves of Fate | Book 1 | First Fate

by Talbot, Kendall

  His world became a series of devastating snapshots.

  The trapped raft slamming against the ship.

  Blood dribbling down his wrist.

  Rose shuddering beneath him.

  Mangled and bloodied fingers.

  A lone albatross ducking and swooping across the brilliant blue sky. It looked impossibly serene, like an angel.

  Maybe it was an angel.

  Zon appeared out of nowhere. He must’ve climbed up the rope. “Fuck me. You’re fucked.” He had a weird smirk on his face, like he was enjoying himself. Gunner wanted to punch that grin right off the cocky asshole’s mouth.

  But he couldn’t move. “Cut the rope.” Gunner hissed through clenched teeth. “You need to cut the rope.”

  “I figured that.” Zon held up an axe. Its highly polished blade glinted in the morning sun.

  “Cut it.”

  Zon cocked his head. “But the raft’s gonna go and you’re gonna die on this fuckin’ ship.”

  “I know. I know. Just do it. You have to save them. Do it. Now!”

  Zon nodded. But he didn’t do anything. The bald man looked down at the raft, looked up at Gunner’s hand, and then the smirk on his face grew wider. “I got another idea.” The glint in his eyes had madman written all over them. Zon raised the axe. “You might wanna look away.”

  “What’re you doing?” Gunner screamed.

  Zon wrapped his arm around Gunner’s waist, clutching their bodies together. Then, with a flash of steel, the axe slammed down.

  Gunner howled as he slumped free. A spray of blood spurted across Zon’s face.

  Fighting through the agony, Gunner looked at his hand.

  Everything below his wrist was gone.

  Chapter Forty

  Gabby had screamed as the life raft plummeted. It was barely a four-second free fall, yet it had been the most terrifying moment of her life. It’d hit the water with a shattering jolt that had shot right up her backbone. When the raft had flung sideways, her cheekbone had hit the side wall. The pain was like a dozen wasps simultaneously stinging her left eye.

  The raft had flipped from one side to the next in rapid succession, then, as if a giant had steadied it, it stopped.

  Max was trying to placate Jennifer. The poor girl was utterly sobbing. Rubbing her cheek, Gabby reached over to Adam. “Hey, you okay?”

  His lips were drawn into a thin line. His chin quivered. “I hit my head.” He rubbed behind his skull.

  Gabby strained against her belt to check his head. Thankfully, there was no blood. She wanted to wrap her arms around her son, to tell him everything would be okay.

  But without Sally, nothing was okay. Their family was forever shattered.

  She would never sleep soundly again not knowing what happened to her baby girl.

  Max’s eyes were riddled with pain, yet he held it together. Probably for the sake of Jennifer, who was clutching Max’s good hand with both of hers.

  The other passengers’ reactions were a mixture of relief and shock. Gabby had seen scenes like this many, many times. How people coped during extreme life-threatening situations could never be predicted. A big, burly man with a buzz cut could crumble to a fetal position, while a feeble grandmother could look fear right in the face.

  Through the circular window beside her, she spied the other life raft. She lurched forward. “Shit!” The raft was dangling at a precarious angle by just one rope. Her stomach writhed as she imagined what those poor people inside the raft were going through.

  The ship rolled into the water and she saw both the Captain and Zon. What was Zon doing up there? That wasn’t the plan. Her stomach dropped. Captain McCrae was holding his arm. Blood squirted from his wrist. His hand was missing.

  She wanted to pull her eyes away, but couldn’t.

  A week ago, she would’ve cursed herself for not having her camera. The gruesome scene would’ve been a gripping newsflash. She could picture the headline: Ship’s Captain makes bloody sacrifice.

  But the concept of sharing his agony with complete strangers made her blood curdle. Too many times, she’d captured people at their lowest point, in extreme conditions. She’d relished in their vulnerability. Guilt and revulsion threaded through her. She was a monster. An evil, soul-sucking monster.

  And for what?

  For her own selfish reasons.

  A vile cascade of self-loathing oozed through her.

  Her chin quivered. It was a wicked twist of irony that she too had reached the lowest point in her life. She was worthless. Nothing she did was valuable to anyone, unlike nearly everyone around her. Her husband. The Captain. The crew. Gladys, the elderly woman in the wheelchair, who’d stopped nursing over a decade ago—even she was more valuable than Gabby. All of them were worthy of every accolade possible.

  At great peril to themselves, they were helping others.

  Especially the Captain. She peered at him through the porthole. Zon was holding him up. The Captain writhed and cried in agony.

  His evacuation strategy had careened irreversibly off-course.

  Their situation was growing more deadly by the second.

  Sykes stood through the hatch and yelled toward the ship. His bellows got louder. But the ship’s shrieking upped a crescendo too.

  Movement on a lower deck, to the far right of the dangling life raft, caught her eye.

  A flash of red. A waving hand.

  Her heart lurched to her throat. Her eyes bulged. With trembling fingers, she scrambled to unclip her belt. She shoved forward and stood in the hatch next to Sykes.

  Gabby squealed. “Look!”

  Hope surged through her veins.

  Sally was there. Her fuchsia shorts stood out like an oasis to her nightmare. But her elation exploded in a heartbeat.

  Sally was in a man’s arms. Her body was limp. “No!”

  Icy shards shot up Gabby’s back. “No. No. No!” Horror gripped her heart in a vise and strangled it.

  “Sally!” Her daughter’s name was clawed from Gabby’s throat. “Sally!” She screamed louder than she’d done in the thousand times over the last four days. But there was so much noise, it was impossible to know if they’d heard her.

  Max squeezed up next to her, and she pointed. “Over there. With those people. It’s Sally. Oh God, Max, is she alive? Tell me she’s alive.”

  “She must be. Why else would they be holding her?”

  “Yes! Exactly. Sally! She’s alive. Max. I told you. I knew it. She’s alive!” Gabby waved her hands and the woman waved back.

  “We have to get her!” Gabby dug her fingernails into Sykes’ forearm. “We have to get my daughter.”

  Sykes yanked his arm free. “We will. Just hold on.” He turned his gaze back to the Captain and the dangling life raft.

  “No. I won’t hold on.” Gabby climbed onto the small ladder.

  Max clutched her wrist; his eyes were enormous. “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m saving my daughter.” With one last glance at Sally’s lifeless body, she dove into the turbulent water.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Zon felt the moment Gunner lost his shit. One second, Captain Dickhead was staring at the bloody stump at the end of his arm. Next second, he slumped forward, nearly dragging the both of ’em overboard. Lucky Zon was hanging onto a pole at the time.

  Zon hauled the Captain backward and he flopped onto the deck like a dead man. His chest was still moving though, so he wasn’t a goner just yet.

  The boat suddenly dropped out from beneath him and he crashed to his hands and knees. The whole fuckin’ place was buckin’ and movin’. It was like diving onto a wild boar and trying to figure out which way it was gonna go.

  Projectiles were shootin’ everywhere. Smoke was so thick it burned his throat. And the damn noise, it was disturbing.

  He stepped toward the edge of the deck. Down below, the raft was still dangling about like bait on the end of a line, and the screaming from inside was louder than his bitchface
sister. Zon raised the bloody axe and chopped the rope. The raft plunged like a brick, hit the water and nearly upended itself.

  That was when he remembered all his booze inside.

  “Fuck!”

  Scowling, he pictured his bottle of fancy brandy smashing and the liquid gold spilling out all over the place. He shoulda thought of that. Stupid! If they saw that brandy, they’d find his other stuff.

  There was no chance anyone would find the gun though; he’d found the perfect spot for it. But the rest of his loot—the poker chips, the money, his booze, his snacks—all of that took up space, which was why he’d volunteered to pack the raft. He weren’t stupid.

  He just hoped like hell they was still tucked in beneath all them seats.

  His lucky streak had been treatin’ him good lately. Maybe it was still going.

  Down below, Sykes had moved his raft closer. He was lookin’ up at Zon with his mouth wide open and eyes bulging. Given that Zon was still holdin’ the bloody axe, it was kinda justified. Not too many people woulda done what he’d done to Captain Dickhead. But he’d just saved the Captain’s life. Stupid fucker was gonna go down with the ship. That was a guaranteed way to get dead. Now, as long as he didn’t lose too much blood, he’d live.

  Provided Zon could figure out how to get ’em both down to them rafts.

  The ship was still joltin’ all over the place, slamming up and down non-stop. Going up was kinda smooth but the down was like dropping into a canyon. Each time the ship hit the water, it wobbled for a couple of seconds before it rose again. That pause, just before it started upward—that’d be when to jump.

  If he got it wrong, he and Dickhead were dead.

  Zon had no intention of face-plantin’ into the hull. Not when his booze, poker chips, and all that money was stashed on the life raft below, waitin’ for him. And Jessie. She was worth more than all that other stuff.

  That thought came outta nowhere.

  He’d never put a chick in front of anythin’ before, especially money. All this bullshit was makin’ him mental. Just like his granddaddy. By the end, the stupid bastard had been crazier than a raccoon in a spring trap, sayin’ all kinda weird shit that had his grandmama whackin’ him over the head all the time.

  That blonde TV bitch was next to Sykes, wavin’ and carryin’ on. But next second, she dove off the raft. Maybe she was coming to help him. He’d a thought Sykes would a done that. But her arms and legs were all over the place, and the stupid bitch was going in the wrong direction. She weren’t doin’ no rescue. He had no idea what the fuck she was doin’.

  “I’m over here, ya stupid bitch,” Zon hollered at her and waved, but she swam right on past them. He shook his head. “I’m surrounded by dickheads.”

  Speaking of dickheads . . . He turned to the Captain. He was still dead to the world. Zon was gonna have to do everything for him. He waited for the slow rise of the ship upward before he hauled Gunner’s body from the ground and tossed him over his shoulder.

  It was just like he’d done with Zombie, who like he’d kept tellin’ everyone, ended up dead anyways. Zon smiled at the memory of tellin’ Sykes ‘I told ya so.’ Stupid fucker shoulda listened to him. Woulda saved ’em a whole lotta time.

  Captain Dickhead’s blood was drippin’ onto Zon’s favorite shirt as he stepped toward the edge of the deck. Sykes had moved his raft closer, but he was still a good fifty or so feet out. Probably too scared ’bout the ship slammin’ down on top of him or something.

  A rumble, like the thunder in a good ol’ Louisiana storm, roared from within the ship. Zon glanced sideways. His jaw dropped. A giant split was carvin’ its way through the deck. Plank after plank snapped in half like they was just kindling. The gap got bigger, and within seconds, it was so big it coulda swallowed his prized gator catch whole.

  The whole fuckin’ ship was ’bout to split in two.

  Time to get the fuck outta there. He adjusted Captain Dickhead on his shoulder and rode the ship’s rise and fall twice more. Each time, the gap openin’ at his side grew bigger. The ship was no longer smooth on the way up neither; it jolted more than his mama did when she started dancin’ after a bottle of tequila.

  Decidin’ that the next one was gonna be it, he waited out the ship’s rise and when it slammed back down, creatin’ a wave that charged into Sykes’ raft, Zon gripped onto Gunner’s legs and jumped.

  Zon didn’t scream or nothin’; that was for pussies. He hit the water feet-first. Captain Dickhead slammed face-first into the ocean. If that slap in the cheek didn’t wake the Captain, nothin’ would. Zon aimed for the churning surface. The second he sucked in fresh air, Sykes was swimmin’ toward him. Treading water, Zon turned Gunner over and the Captain spluttered.

  “Jesus, Zon. You’re fucking crazy.” But despite his words, Sykes was smiling. “Help me get him up.”

  Together, Sykes and Zon dragged Gunner, who Zon was pretty sure was crying, toward the closest life raft. Once there, a man and a woman dragged his ass up.

  Zon reached for the ladder, ready to climb, but Sykes grabbed his shoulder. “Hang on, bud. We got a few more to rescue.” He pointed over his shoulder to two people standing in the giant hole in the ship. The guy had what looked like a dead girl in his arms. Sykes began swimming toward ’em.

  Zon had already seen firsthand just how useless Sykes was when it came to rescuin’ people, so he figured he’d better go help or they’d never get outta there.

  TV bitch was splashing up a storm just out from the ship. The stupid cow was always stickin’ her nose up at Zon like she was better than him or somethin’. If she wanted savin’ too, then he just might accidentally-on-purpose dunk her under a few times first. She fucking deserved it.

  “You have to jump.” Sykes was at TV bitch’s side, yellin’ up to the people still on the boat.

  Zon swam to them and when TV bitch smiled at him it was like he was lookin’ at a different person. The stick up her ass musta been pulled out or somethin’, ’cause she touched his shoulder like they was long-lost buddies.

  The boat reared up again, but this time when it reached the top, a huge explosion detonated somewhere inside the ship. Fireworks sprung out of every crack and next second, the entire ass-end dropped away. When it hit the water, the woman fell from the ship, her arms and legs flapping like she could fly.

  The wave it created barreled over him and the others, spinning him around like he was in a fuckin’ washing machine. When he came up again, Sykes was swimmin’ toward the woman. Zon followed.

  She was still screaming for help when Sykes grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the ship. “Look after her.” Sykes shoved the woman at Zon.

  Before Zon could do nothin’ she wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing him under. He clawed her hands off his head and kicked up to the surface. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna drown me.”

  “Sorry.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Jump, Sterling! Jump!” She squealed in his ear, just ’bout sending him deaf.

  The guy holding the girl jumped and they hit the water together. Sykes swam in to get ’em. TV bitch did too.

  Figurin’ he weren’t needed no more, Zon swam back toward the rafts.

  He needed to make sure no one was touching his stuff.

  Especially his gun.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Madeline dived off the raft, plunging into the tiny ocean pool created by the four pods roped together. She popped up to the surface and waved at Sykes who was overseeing the swimmers.

  It had taken three long days in the raft before Sykes had agreed to let people swim in that area if they wanted. Every day since then, everyone except the severely injured, and poor Gladys with her crippled legs, had taken a dip. It helped to reduce the body odor that was festering in the life pods. And it allowed them to go to the bathroom.

  She and Sterling had spent the morning fishing. Sterling had made it fun, and they’d both laughed so much. Maybe too much, given their situation. It was stupid really.
They were lost at sea with the remaining seventy-two survivors. Nearly every day since they’d crawled into the rafts, they were down one person. Yet she wasn’t as scared as some of the others were. Fresh water and canned food were being rationed, but they were fed enough. And the fish . . . the fish were abundant. Every line they tossed out came up with a decent-size trevally or cod. Eating them raw, though . . . she wasn’t sure she could ever get used to that.

  The cool ocean was invigorating, and Madeline scrubbed the salty water onto her arms and legs, ridding herself of the sweat and grime that came with living inside a humid, unventilated pod with forty other people. Gladys had sewn up the wound on her hip, and Madeline barely noticed the occasional sting when she leaned over too far.

  Breast-stroking across the tiny pool, she felt revitalized. It was great to stretch her legs and with a contented sigh, she floated onto her back. Brilliant blue sky filled her vision. Turning her head sideways, she admired Sterling bathing. When he ran his hands through his wavy hair, the sun caught on the blond tips, making them look like they were gilded in gold.

  There had been moments on the ship when she and Sterling had lost all hope of a rescue, and there were several times when she’d thought the ship was going to implode with both her and Sterling inside it.

  During those moments, she’d tried to stay focused on all the good things she’d done in her life and what precious aspects of it she appreciated. It was a little trick she’d learned during her kidnapping. She’d been grateful that she had the stinky rubber mattress rather than just the bare concrete floor. She’d felt blessed that little Peanut had chosen her hovel as his home. She’d also always known in her heart that her parents would never stop looking for her.

  It seemed she only truly appreciated the important things when she thought she’d never live to see another day. There had been many times in her life when she didn’t want to live another day.