by Nicole Fox
He sacrificed himself for me and my family. And I can’t let that sacrifice be in vain.
I point Courtney in the direction of where shore should be and then lie down on the bench to rest before I take over the oars again. I will need to be rested by the time we reach shore if I’m going to lead my family to safety.
Tati tucks her knees up to her chin and sits next to me, her small hand lying on my forehead while I sleep. For the first time in weeks, I don’t have a nightmare. It isn’t the best sleep I’ve ever had, but it’s the best I’ve had in a long time.
Still, I wake with a start.
I bolt upright and reach for Tati, holding onto her while the boat rocks hard to one side and then violently to the other.
Courtney is clinging to the oars, her knuckles white, teeth gritted in exertion.
“How long has this been going on?” I shout. The waves are roaring around us and the sky, which was previously a deep blue and dotted with stars, is a dark gray, like God has thrown a fleece blanket over our heads to smother us.
“It came on suddenly,” Sadie shouts back. “We didn’t want to wake you because it wasn’t too bad, but we seem to have rowed right into the middle of something.
The boat rocks hard again, slamming us all into the right side of the boat, and I see Sadie take the brunt of the blow in her back, trying to protect Olivia, who is sitting in her lap.
Everyone has life vests on, but I’d prefer if we didn’t have to use them.
“Sit on the floor,” I say, moving Tati off the bench. Stay low and hold on.
They listen. Larissa is crying, but she curls up next to Tati, and Sadie clings to Olivia and tucks herself halfway underneath the storage compartment at the back of the boat.
Once I’m sure everyone is down, I move to the front of the boat, gripping the sides for support, and take one of the oars from Courtney.
“I can do it,” she insists. “You’re hurt.”
“We will do it,” I say. “You take one, I’ll take the other.”
The water is splashing against the sides of the boat and then sucking back, threatening to rip the oars right out of her hands.
I squeeze into the seat next to her and then hook my left leg around her right, wrapping our ankles for another layer of security. If she gets pulled out of the boat, I’ll know.
Then, we row. There is no time for talking or planning. The only thing we can do is power through the water and the wind with our heads down and our jaws clenched.
I look back several times to check everyone else is still in the boat, and they are. Tati is huddled down next to Larissa, rubbing soothing circles on the other girl’s back, and Sadie is singing softly to a terrified Olivia.
I hate that they are all going through this. That I can’t protect them from evil people or nature or any of the bad things the world can offer. I hate that they deserve so much more than me and the life I’ve given them. More than anything, I hate that I can’t give them up.
“I think the storm is letting up,” Courtney calls over the roar of the wind.
She’s right. It’s getting easier to pull the oar through the water, and within ten minutes, things have quieted down to normal.
I turn back and can see the storm still ravaging the water behind us, but ahead of us is smooth sailing.
I untangle my leg from Courtney’s, take her oar, and tell her to rest. I won’t be able to sleep again, anyway.
After the chaos of the storm, it’s strange to experience such peace. The girls are all asleep behind me and the only sound is the soft hush of the ocean and the gulping of my oar slipping through the dark water. The silence swallows me up until I’m not sure how long I’ve been rowing or what time it is. It is so disorienting that when I see a dark shadow in front of us, I’m not sure what it’s.
It is too long to be a boat, but there is no way we could have already reached land.
But that is exactly what we’ve done.
Directly in front of us is the shore.
“Courtney,” I call back, pushing deep to find the energy to get us all the way to land. “Courtney, we’re here.”
She’s at my side in an instant. “Are you sure?”
I tip my head forward to the shadow in front of us that is slowly revealing treetops and a stretch of sand in the moonlight.
She sighs and then kisses my cheek. “Land.”
She gets the girls ready, drying them off as best she can with the few blankets that aren’t soaked from the storm. Then, she gathers our food and water supplies in a pull-string bag and prepares to set out into the unknown.
The Bratva said they would be waiting for us on the shore somewhere, but even knowing the path of the ship, they could be miles and miles away. I’ll call them as soon as I know where we are and hopefully we won’t have to spend too long wandering in the dark. The last thing we need is to be picked up by local authorities. Even if we tell them the truth of what happened with us, being this close to the shore where the ship planned to dock, they could be working for the Yakuza. We can’t trust anyone.
As soon as the boat comes to a stop in the sand, I offer a hand to help everyone out one at a time and then pull the boat out of the water. Courtney helps me drag it into the tree line, and then we cover it with leaves and branches. It will be found eventually, but I want to keep it hidden until we’re far enough away that it doesn’t matter if the Yakuza know where we landed.
The girls don’t have shoes on, so Courtney and I cut strips of the last remaining blanket to wrap around their feet to protect them from the sand. Then, we begin to walk.
We stick close to the water, but every time there is a break in the tree line, I creep up to it to see if anyone is there waiting. We do that three times before we see something.
A small wooden hut is built in the middle of the fourth break in the trees. It looks like a kind of lifeguard shack, almost, but there is a light inside the window, despite the fact there is no one on the beach.
I move back to the group and shake my head, prepared to tell them to stay quiet and low as we move past so as not to be caught when Courtney gasps and points over my shoulder.
I spin around just as two slow flashes of light break through the darkness.
The signal.
“Was there another flash before that?” I ask.
“One quick one,” Courtney says. “Is it the Bratva?”
It has to be. Who else would flash their lights in that pattern? Who else would be waiting by the shore in the middle of the night?
I’m still hesitating, trying to be certain when it happens again. One fast, two slow.
They don’t know we’re here. They are signaling out to the water, hoping to draw us to them. It has to be them.
“It’s them,” I say. “Let’s go, but move slowly. We don’t want them to be surprised and shoot.”
The ground between us and the hut is a sandy uphill climb, so we’re all out of breath when we reach the landing. I go first, arms raised in surrender. I suspect my men will recognize me, but with the beard, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“It’s me,” I call towards the flashing lights.
As soon as I speak, the lights go out, plunging everything into darkness.
“Hello?” I call again. “It’s me?”
I hear a car door slam shut. And then another.
As my eyes adjust to the gloom, I see two shapes moving towards us, their silhouettes growing larger.
“Shit, I’m glad we found you. That was lucky,” I say.
Then, one of the figures reaches into his pocket. “Yes, lucky indeed.”
He pulls out a gun, and Sadie gasps behind me. She must have recognized the voice, too.
Devon.
There is no time to run or grab a weapon or fight. Devon and the Tiger are on us in a second. The Tiger grabs me and Devon grabs Tati, pulling her forward by the arm. He knows that is the way to make me and Courtney compliant. Sadie, too. None of us would do anything to hurt Tati. He
is using my child against me.
“Don’t fight,” the Tiger says evenly in my ear. “Come with us.”
The whiplash of being recaptured so soon after accepting we were free is jarring. So jarring that I can’t speak as we’re led towards the hut.
More figures move out of the light of the hut and wait for our approach. As we get close, I see Elena standing next to the truck, her short gray hair windblown and sticking up around her face.
How did they know the signal? That’s the only thought in my mind. Maybe they overheard my conversation with Pasha through the comms room. Maybe it was monitored and they knew our plan the entire time. That would explain why they didn’t chase after us immediately. They didn’t need to get in a boat and fight with us on the water. Because they knew where we were going and how to capture us.
I feel like such an idiot. I should have known better than to use the ship’s communication pathways to plot with Pasha.
“This was almost a good plan,” Elena says as we’re brought before her and pushed down onto the sand. “Unfortunately, my methods of torture are more efficient than your rowing.”
Torture. I frown, not sure what she means until another person emerges from the shack.
He stumbles through the door and falls onto his knees. A guard emerges just behind him, a gun pressed to his back.
Sevastian.
At least, I think so. His face is swollen beyond recognition. His eye sockets are bulging out with fluid and bruising, and his lips are puffy and split. Blood drips down his face from several open wounds, and he’s holding his arm strangely as though it’s broken. His fingers also seem to be bleeding profusely, but I don’t look closely enough to know for sure. I’m not sure I want to know what all they did.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head and looking down at the ground. When I hear his voice I know for certain it’s Sevastian. “I’m so sorry. I held out for as long as I could, but—”
“It’s okay.”
I’m surprised to find that I mean it. Sevastian told me he gave the FBI false information before, information that would send them away from the Bratva and my plans. He was loyal to me then, but he broke now.
Knowing what I know about Devon and Elena—how cruel they are—I can’t even blame him. I don’t know how I’d respond to torture. Even though it has meant our recapture, part of me is just glad he’s still alive. Even if not for long.
“How sweet,” Elena says sarcastically.
Sadie lets out a sob behind me, and Sevastian gives his best approximation of a smile. “I’m okay.”
The guard behind him hits him in the side of the head with the weapon for speaking, knocking him sideways, and Sadie lunges forward as if to catch him, though she’s too far away.
I didn’t realize she cared about him so much.
“Stupid girl,” Elena says. “He held you captive. Please tell me you don’t fancy yourself in love with him.”
Sadie doesn’t answer, but watches as Sevastian struggles to sit upright. As soon as he does, he’s kicked in the side again and falls, spitting blood into the sand.
Sadie gasps and then falls in the sand herself, unconscious.
“She fainted,” Elena laughs. “I didn’t realize anyone outside of Victorian novels fainted. How quaint.”
“And she hasn’t even seen the bodies,” Devon says.
“Bodies?” Courtney says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper.
Devon laughs, the sound unhitched and wild. “I suppose they do blend in with the scenery a bit.”
I narrow my eyes and scour the dark landscape around the hut. The sandy shore shifts to larger rocks and then to rocky ground with small shrubs sticking from the ground, desperately clinging to life in the untenable soil.
Then, I see them.
Not shrubs as I previously thought. Bodies.
Piles of them.
Devon laughs when my mouth falls open. “Your men were unprepared. Surprising, since we landed a helicopter not far from here. I thought they would have heard the blades.”
They thought Devon and Elena were still at sea. They wouldn’t have been expecting an ambush.
“Oh well,” Devon says with a casual shrug. “Better luck next time.”
He nods to the Tiger, and without warning, I’m hauled to my feet again. I try to pull my arm free, but Devon makes a warning sound behind me. I turn and see his hands wrapped around Tati’s neck.
“Careful, careful,” he warns. “We’ll begin to kill the spares.”
The spares.
That’s what Tati and Sadie and Larissa are to them. Innocent people who don’t matter. People they can use to control me. They’ll kill them all without remorse if Courtney or I make a wrong move.
Rage so hot it makes me sweat tears through my body, and I can barely stand up. I clench my fists and grit my teeth, but the anger inside of me is desperate to escape. If it doesn’t, I worry I’ll explode from it.
“Grab the child,” Elena says from the hut. Then, she clarifies, “The baby.”
A large guard with a tattoo across the side of his neck moves towards Courtney, but she backs away and shakes her head. “No.”
Devon still has his hand around Tati’s arm, and he pulls her in front of him. “Remember?”
“No,” Courtney repeats, glancing at me for only a second before looking back at Elena. “You can’t take her.”
Elena laughs. “Yes, we can.”
Suddenly, Courtney turns and runs towards the water. I think she’s making a break for it, and Elena must think the same thing because she shouts for her men not to shoot her. “She has the baby. You could hurt the baby.”
I don’t understand what Courtney is doing until she suddenly stops and holds Olivia at arm’s length, dangling her over the ground.
That is when I realize she isn’t dangling Olivia over the ground, but rather, a precipice. Olivia doesn’t even really know what’s going on, which is for the best. We walked up a sandy slope to reach the hut, but just twenty feet forward is a craggy rock face separating the beach from the ground above the hut. The fall is probably fifteen to twenty feet to the ground, and the ground is hard and cold from the evening chill.
There is a chance Olivia could survive the fall, but it would hurt. A lot.
Elena orders the men to stop and then narrows her eyes at Courtney. “You wouldn’t harm your own child.”
“I would if it meant keeping her away from you,” she says. “And if the fall doesn’t work, I have other methods. Her neck would break easily, I’m sure.”
The thought makes me want to run forward and grab Olivia from Courtney because I truly can’t tell whether she’s serious or not. I can’t tell whether she would actually hurt our daughter rather than hand her over to Elena.
Even more, I can’t decide whether I agree with her or not.
As proven by Devon’s insanity, living with Elena is not healthy. Olivia would be emotionally abused at the very least. She would grow up to be little more than Elena’s minion, used for whatever nefarious deeds Elena needed accomplished. It would not be a good life.
“You wouldn’t,” Elena says again. “Besides, we have your other daughter. Devon will kill her right now.”
Courtney takes a step forward, her toes at the very edge of the drop. “And if he does, I’ll jump over the side with Olivia, killing us both. Then, neither of you get what you want.”
Devon looks slightly panicked at this thought, and I see his grip on Tati loosen.
“Do you want to risk it?” Courtney asks.
They stare at one another for a long time, waiting for the other to break. Finally, Elena does.
“You can keep the girl for now,” she says. “But I will get her eventually.”
Courtney shrugs, looking smug. “Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.”
Our lives are once again in danger, and I don’t know whether we’ll survive until dawn, but I’m in awe of my wife. Of her strength, resilience, and cunning. I’ve
underestimated her in every way possible. With her by my side, it’s difficult to imagine a situation we can’t overcome together. Even as we’re loaded into the backs of vehicles, guards surrounding us and keeping us apart, there is a strange and undying hope in my chest flickering against all odds.
19
Courtney
I cling to Olivia throughout the duration of the ride. My threat worked back at the hut, but they could snatch her at any second. I have to be ready.
I’m not sure whether it would be better to kill Olivia than have her taken by Elena. Holding her over the ledge was simply the first thing I could think to do. It was my only recourse; threatening her life and mine was the only leverage I had over Elena and Devon. Without it, they could kill Dmitry and Tati without a second thought.
When the truck stops moving, I wrap my arms protectively around Olivia, almost squishing her to me. She’s usually desperate to leave my arms and run around, not one to be held and cuddled, but the time apart has made her long for my touch as much as I’ve longed for hers. She rests her chubby cheek on my shoulder while her fingers play in my ratty hair. I breathe her in and silently pray I’ll be able to save us both.
A guard walks around the back and opens the truck, directing us out one by one.
Sadie was loaded into the truck unconscious, but she woke up mid-ride, and is once again conscious and mobile. She climbs out, her face still pale, and holds a hand out for Larissa. Next are Dmitry and Sevastian. Then, Devon once again grabs Tati, followed by me and Olivia.
Guards stand between us, making the two feet between me and Dmitry feel like miles.
“Where are we going?” he asks. “What is the plan?”
Elena appears, apparently having ridden in the front seat, and points to the large metal building in front of us. The guards begin to herd us inside.