Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“We won’t have time.”
“What should we do?”
He pulls me out of the room then starts to guide me farther away. I follow him blindly in the dark as we keep moving through the yacht until we are finally outside. The warm air hits my face once we are on the stern of the boat.
“Help me grab the raft.”
“Seriously? You want to take a raft out into the ocean instead of the boat?”
“One, we would never have had enough time to get the tender in the water before they found us. Two, even if we were able to, there is no quiet way to do it. The sound alone will have them firing at this.”
“Fine, I guess we are taking the raft. Where is it?” It might be dark, but there is enough visibility out here, and I don’t see anything at all resembling a raft.
“It’s on the transom.”
“Do you have that in English?”
He points at a large white canister that’s attached to the horizontal wall of the boat right above the waterline in front of us.
“What the hell is that?” I whisper-shout.
“That’s the raft.” My eyes go wide at his words. “Once I throw it in the ocean, and pull the painter out, it will inflate.”
“And then what? We get on a raft and pray?”
“Pretty much.”
“There’s no way whatever is in that box will have enough room for both of us.”
“It’s built for six. This isn’t Titanic. I have no intention of letting you push me off.”
He moves away from me and grabs something, then he throws the white canister into the water before pulling on a rope, which I guess from his earlier description is called a painter. It starts to inflate before my eyes. The bottom looks like a large black inflatable tube, and on top is a red canopy.
My eyes are wide, and Alaric must see my distress because his hand reaches out and reassuringly squeezes my own. “It’s not fully inflated. It will be okay; we just have to wait a few more seconds.”
The sound of air seeping out has my nerves on edge that someone will hear, but Alaric doesn’t seem worried. I have to assume that with the gunshots sounding in the distance, no one will hear.
Once it’s full size, Alaric pulls it close until it’s hovering right by the boat in the blackness of the water below.
It reminds me of the type of life raft the Coast Guard uses in movies I’ve seen. I can’t imagine he ever thought he would have to use it, but here it is inflated. He probably uses it for fun. It’s probably nothing more than a toy for him to play with.
“This is crazy. We are going to die,” I mumble.
“Probably, but at least we won’t die by their hands.”
“I can’t do this.” My head shakes back and forth. No way am I jumping into that little thing that can probably pop if a wave is too big.
“You can, and you will. Cristian will find us. If anyone is going to live through this, it’s him. We just need to get you off the boat now until he kills them all.” He pulls me along to where the back of the boat is open. Water batters against the ladder.
“I’m not jumping in.”
“Then I’ll push you in. But either way, you are getting on this raft.”
The water is choppy, and no part of me wants to jump in. Just as I’m about to step off, the boat pitches again, and another explosion sounds in the distance.
“Step in. Can you reach?”
“You want me to step into that? How?”
“Step through the canopy entrance. Come on, we don’t have any time. Get in!” he screams, getting impatient with my fear.
With a deep breath, I jump, angling myself through the entryway until I’m landing in the middle of the raft.
Once I’m inside, Alaric looks down at me. “Catch.”
He throws something at me—a very heavy bag—and then he’s jumping in after me. We are engulfed in pitch-black from where we are in the back of the boat.
“Do not say a word. Not a sound. They can’t see us back here. As long as we’re quiet, we will be okay.”
“But for how long?”
“There are hundreds of islands out here. We’ll be fine.”
“But who will fin—” He places his hand on my mouth.
I’m not sure if it’s from the chilly water or the fear that’s rushing through my veins, but as we drift off into the darkness of the night with guns firing behind us, I can’t help but shake.
I have no idea what’s in store for us, or how we’ll make it through the night. The only thing I’m sure of is my fear.
18
Alaric
We watch the yacht become smaller and smaller in complete silence. I haven’t closed up the canopy yet. Instead, I watch as the lights flicker from on board, and I know without a measure of doubt that my men are dead.