“Too bad you knocked the ship’s main doctor out,” Wes told her, apparently feeling little sympathy.
He put his hand to an earbud in his ear and turned to Chloe. “The captain is talking to me—I left my phone on after I called him. He’s sending Doc’s second down to tend to Amelia and he’s gathered the nurses to come look after thosewho are drugged, but they should be fine as soon as it wears off. All right, I’m going into the water after Broderick—”
“I’m coming with you!” Chloe told him.
“No! You’ve been drugged! You couldn’t even move—”
“Because I believed I couldn’t. Once I heard you, I could do things—”
“The ship’s crew will be out in force, Chloe!”
“And I’m fine. Remember? I was only half dead, and now, every second, I’m realizing I did manage to avoid the real thrust!”
He shook his head, turning to walk toward the elevator. She followed.
“Don’t make me have to save you!” he snapped.
“Wes, stop! I wouldn’t go in if I couldn’t, I swear. And if I see the bastard, I promise I’ll yell and let you get him!”
The captain was out; the ship’s crew, as Wes had said, were already in motion, setting lifeboats into the sea with a few of the lifeguards plunging right in.
Wes threw off his jacket, shirt and shoes, covering his 3D-printed gun with his clothing and nodding to one of the security guards who was standing on deck, watching the water.
Chloe threw her cover-up on the pile; her 3D-printed gun was already back in the bag, and she looked at Wes, concerned.
He paused, nodding to one of the security officers and indicating the pile.
The security officer nodded in turn.
“He’ll watch our stuff. I’m in,” Wes told her.
And as he said it, he plunged over the railing into the water.
Chloe followed suit.
The waves were rough that day. While the sun was out and beautifully shining, the breeze was swift and moving the ocean.
But Chloe loved the water.
She tried to reckon the time since she’d been stabbed with the needle. It had been more than twenty minutes now and the little she had gotten into her system was truly fading.
Helped by the slap of the cold water!
And yet that day...
She loved the force of the waves against her, the feel of the heavy breeze, cold on her wet flesh, the taste of the salt on her lips.
She loved it all. It was life; it was being. It was feeling.
The chute let on to the aft of the ship and that was where the lifeboats and crew, searching for the man, were centered.
Treading water by Wes, she shouted, “Could he have gotten a grip on the hull somewhere? Or is he back there, or was it so rough he might have drowned already?”
“Any of the above!” Wes shouted back. “My guess? He found something to hang on to... Let’s follow the flow of the water.”
They did so, quickly catching up with the several lifeboats and crew who were on the hunt.
That was when they saw the man.
