I get up and move toward the compass mounted on the cockpit dash. The rounded glass is splintered and cracked so severely that I can’t see which way the arrow beneath is pointing. It must’ve happened when we were knocked down by that huge wave. I feel stupid for not noticing it earlier. I’ve been trusting Emma blind, not even paying attention to the angle of the sun.
I spin and retreat toward the helm, gesturing toward the navigation controls. “Is there a working compass on those controls?”
Russell shakes his head. “They’re all electronic, so not without power.”
My heart drops into my stomach as I stare at the endless waters that surround us.Could we have been heading away from the mainland this whole time?
“But I have one on my watch,” he adds.
“Can I see?” I inch closer to him, leery of getting too close but also needing the assurance that we’re heading the right way.
He extends his arm, angling his wrist so I can see the face of his watch. “We’re heading slightly southeast.”
I lean closer to his watch until I can see that he’s right. I exhale as Emma returns to the cockpit. Making my way back to my seat toward the front, I feel only slightly reassured. I can’t trust either of them, but if we want to survive, we have to work together—for now.
We are, at least, heading toward the Pacific coast. If we stay on course and Emma’s speed assessment is correct, we could reach land tomorrow.
The hard part is going to be staying alive until we get there.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Present: Day Six at Sea
My stomach grumbles as I look across at Emma perched on the opposite side of the cockpit. Beyond her, the sun sinks toward the horizon. Earlier, Russell insisted we eat a proper meal, even though neither Emma nor I could stomach much of anything. Russell pan-fried rib eye steaks before they went bad with no power to the fridge. Russell ate his steak down to the bone, while I picked apart a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Emma pushed around the meat on her plate.
Now, Russell yawns at the helm. I twist toward him, relieved to see that he looks like he can barely keep his eyes open. Beth’s four Dramamines I crushed into his glass of wine at dinner must be kicking in.
“I can take the helm and keep watch with Emma if you need to get some rest.”
Russell looks warily between Emma and me. None of us have spoken much since searching the boat for Russell’s gun, and we’ve all been maintaining a safe distance from each other. I’ve been careful not to turn my back on either of them—even though it’s Russell I’m more concerned about—or go near the edge of the boat.
“Yeah, okay.” Russell stifles a second yawn. “I could use some sleep.”
I stand, and he steps aside for me to take his place. My shoulders brush his as I slide past. His tired eyes lock with mine, and I hold his gaze, imagining him striking Beth with the meat tenderizer he used to patch the broken window.
“Thanks.” He turns away, swaying slightly, and adds, “I’ll set my watch alarm for four hours.”
“Don’t worry about the alarm,” I tell him. “We’ll wake you when we need a rest.”
Emma casts me a curious glance before she studies Russell unsteadily disappearing below deck, shutting the companionway door behind him. She doesn’t know about the Dramamine, since I couldn’t risk telling her without Russell overhearing.
A heavy silence fills the sea air once Emma and I are alone. She fixes her gaze on the surrounding waters as my mind becomes consumed with thoughts of Beth. Why hadn’t she ever told me about Courtney pretending to be Russell? Was she too devastated or embarrassed to tell even her best friend? My throat swells at the sight of Beth’s blood on the foredeck.
Did Beth really think I’m a murderer? That I killed Courtney, and Nojan and Gigi, in cold blood?
“Beth never told you about Courtney catfishing her?”
Emma stares at me, as if reading my thoughts.
I shake my head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “No.” Then I remember the thing I never got to tell Beth. “Yesterday, before I fell asleep on the couch, I smelled Courtney’s perfume. Ocean Dream, that same perfume that was on the note. It was like she was ...” I lift my gaze to the mainsail, debating whether to say it out loud. “Here. On this boat.”
“That’s just your mind playing tricks on you,” Emma says. “It happened to me too. When we were searching for the captain, I thought Gigi was Courtney. For a moment, I swear her hair looked red from behind. But it wasn’t. Obviously.”
Emma turns back to the open waters, and I assess her tight blond curls blowing in the wind.
“Being out here all alone, the captain dying, then Gigi, and now Beth—it’s messing with our heads,” Emma adds.
I open my mouth to tell her about the Dramamine I slipped Russell but then pause. What if I’m wrong, and I incapacitated the wrong person?
