It’s self-medication for me. I can pretend she’s my girl and I’m trying to keep her alive for me.
That I’m trying to keep myself alive for her.
Whatever thread I have to tie a knot in and hold on to, no matter how tenuously.
By sunset, she’s convincedshe’s dying. I’m actually not so sure, because she sure as hell acts pretty damn feisty for someone convinced she’s dying.
But she’s right that none of us will live much longer if something doesn’t change. If we get some rain we can collect, we can stretch it a few more days, I’m sure. It feels like the breeze is shifting, picked up somewhat, and to our southeast I spot building clouds.
We spenda lot of time ignoring Lisa’s body, where we’ve dragged her as far away as we can from us. None of us had the heart to shove her into the surf and let the water take her, but I think we’re all thinking about maybe eating her. We’ve got her wrapped in one of the mylar emergency blankets and have weighed down the edges of it with sand and rocks and debris washed up around us.
During the days, wesit with our backs to the sun, unless we’ve shaded ourselves with blankets to watch in that direction for help. We take turns doing that.
Now, Susa wants to move to see the sunset. “Turn me around,” she asks me. “Please? So I can see it?”
I do. I’ve kept her tucked against me because she’s so weak, and so I can feel her if she moves.
Make sure she doesn’t try to drink sea water.
But she’sso weak she can barely hold her head up, much less crawl down to the water’s edge.
It’s also a comfort for me, having her at my side.
We’re sitting there talking, me with my face buried in her hair and desperately trying to stay calm and convince her she’s not dying.
I mean, someone dying wouldn’t be able to channel Monty Python lines so effortlessly. Right?
After another back and forth, shesounds really irritated and impatient. “If I’m so alive, Dom Smart-ass, why am I seeingthem?” She waves her hand in what I realize is her attempt to point.
Finally, I lift my head and look.
On the horizon, I’m not believing what I’m seeing.
A set of lights on what looks like a large ship.
I didn’t even realize I was screaming, at first. Without thinking, I jump up and dive for the life raft,scaring the crap out of Connie and Collin, who are dozing inside it under a couple of the emergency blankets.
I’m still screaming as I finally lay my hands on the kit holding the flare gun, and I fumble a round into it.
Allen stumbles to his feet as I emerge from the raft and shoot the first flare, desperation taking over as I wordlessly scream and pray while the phosphorous round streaks upinto the darkening sky.
This is likely ouronlychance.
Connie and Collin are on their feet now, holding on to each other and swaying unsteadily as they start screaming with me. Allen joins our screams as he realizes what’s going on, slowly waving his arms in the air.
Poor Susa’s lying on the ground, and I hope she didn’t get hurt when I dropped her in my rush to grab the flares. I’m shakingas I load the second round into the flare gun and hold it up, waiting for a breath before firing it.
I dump that empty shell and return to Susa’s side. I load the third round and get her sitting up again, my arm around her. I’m crying…laughing… And I fire the third round.
Then I do something I’m sure Ellen and Susa’s men will forgive me for—I kiss her cheek before I start screaming again.
This time the tears blurring my vision are happiness, because the ship’s lights change course, aiming toward us.
I drop the flare gun and wrap both arms around Susa, rocking her. “Hang on, girl,” I tell her, my chin rubbing in her hair. “You fucking better hang on, girl. Don’t you dare die on me now.”
“I’ll do my best, Sir.”
I’m laugh-crying, still rocking her in my arms. She’s so weak she justgoes with it, one hand curled around my bicep as I keep saying it over and over again.
