“Hm, I do hate him, don’t I?” Viv had remarked, as if I pointed out an interesting piece of art in a gallery. “But yes, I sleep with him. Because I need him. And because he’sthere.” Then she slunk behind me and tapped the gun against my spine, which got me moving fast enough.
We go out on to the main deck and are immediately pelted with rain, the wind swirling its way into our hair. I’m grateful for the limited warmth of my sweater as my legs get soaked, but it won’t last long. Soon I’ll be drenched and joining Elena at the bottom of the ocean.
The waves aroundEmpressare definitely less violent than they were during the day, and the swelling of the sea is more drunk than aggressive. But it’s dark—the only lights in the hazy night come fromEmpress, beacons glowing from its deck and caissons, casting greenish hues upon the waves closest to us. The frigid air smells like dead fish and electricity.
Viv follows me across the deck, snapping directions as we climbdown the stairs to the tender. I should be freaking out more, but there’s a memory bubbling in the back of my brain that is getting harder and harder to ignore. I won’t look at it directly yet, can’t take hold of it in my hands and examine it, but I’ll need to soon.
It might be the only thing that can save me.
Instead of blubbering and begging for my life, I let Viv prod me down the steps, following her detailed instructions on how to untie the tender. I’m in a fog as I get in and sit in the front. Viv follows, plopping down in the seat next to me, the one with the controls and the steering wheel.
Viv is clearly familiar with this boat. The front of it is half-enclosed, half-exposed, with a wide nose. The end of the boat narrows off, the engine pokes out from the frothing water like a dolphin’s fin. There’s enough space for the two of us to sit in the half cabin, hunching away from the pelting rain.
When I glance out over the heaving waves, terror snaps its teeth at my face. I’m looking at blackness. The water right below us blooms gray when Viv flicks on the headlights, but everything else in front of us is black soup. It’s like we’re floating on nothingness, and I’ve never been more aware of the vastness, the depth of the sea.
She’s going to kill me.
I glance at Viv by my side, still holding the gun. How quick is she with that thing? Is it not as powerful because it’s so small? I am certain that without it, Viv would be less of a threat. Can I wrest it awayfrom her and toss it overboard? But she’s on high alert, side-eyeing me, expecting something like that. Which means I need to stay on this boat with her as long as I can so that I have a chance to act if she lets down her guard.
Viv gets up and pulls a neon-orange life vest from a storage container at the back of the boat and shrugs it on. She keeps the mouse gun pointed at me as she clips the buckle of the life vest around her waist. “Sorry, I’d give you one too. But, you know. Kind of defeats the point.”
Trying to get my own vest would likely end with a fiery hot bullet in my back, so I try a different tack. “How are you going to get Piper in the boat if you find her?”
Viv moves around the tender, doing her checks. She keys the ignition—of course she has the key. “What do you mean?”
She’s paying attention to me and the boat at the same time, and she keeps the gun pointed at me as the engine putters to life behind us. Our seats aren’t close enough together that I feel confident in lunging at her without getting shot.
“I mean, if you find her, alive or dead, you won’t be able to pull her into the boat on your own,” I say.
Viv pauses, giving me her full attention. “Piper is alive.”
The way she says it, like a woman reciting a Bible passage, makes me realize how far gone she really is. She’s not going to listen to logic or reason; sheneedsPiper to be alive even though it’s impossible.
“I’m sure she is. But you can’t rescue her alone.”
“So, what, you want to help? Why?”
I shrug and face the front of the cabin so she can only see part of my face in the halogen glow of the boat’s safety lights. There’s no way Piper is alive in the water, but I need to pander to Viv’s delusions. “I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about killing me. Plus, I like Piper. I…I want to help.”
I don’t know if she buys it, but Viv—I’ve come to realize—is far from stupid. She knows I’m right. She can’t haul Piper into the tender by herself.
“Yeah, fine, you can help. But I won’t change my mind. And if you make one movement I don’t like, it’s over.” She shakes the gun at me as she turns her attention to the steering wheel. “I am perfectly capable of driving with one hand and shooting with the other.”
I don’t know if she’s bluffing or not, but it’s unwise to test her. I grunt my assent and settle back, watching as we slowly pull away fromEmpress, easing forward into the shroud of the night.
“Should we dock on Ligia and check there first?” I try as the tender crests a wave, churning up black water behind us.
“I’ll check there last,” Viv replies, glancing at me to make sure I haven’t moved. She looks like a bright orange puffer fish with the life jacket and her lip injections. “If she’s still in the water, time is of the essence.”
“Viv—” I can’t help it. A worm of pity has crawled in my heart. I soften my voice. “You can’t honestly think she’s out there, right?”
“Of course she is. You don’t know her. She’s like a fish. Alwaysswimming, always surfing. She’s used to rough waters.” Her voice is ragged, and her energy is off.
I remember how easily Piper dove to the bottom of the reef the other day, how impressive it was to see her hold her breath for that long. But then I think about how I watched her disappear underneath the waves and not come back up. And how long it’s been since that happened.
Viv must be in denial. On some level, Viv knows what she did to Elena was wrong. But her guilt is presenting in different ways than Piper’s did. Piper drank herself into oblivion and destroyed the bridge. Viv is refusing to see logic in the face of one of her other “family” members dying. She’s unraveling, losing it.
The boat chugs through the dark water. The rain rat-a-tats against the cabin’s windows. Even though we’re half-exposed and the chill seeps into our bones, we’re at least protected from the worst of the rain at the front of the boat. The wind is cutting but not nearly as strong as it was when Piper jumped overboard—back then it felt like I could be tipped over by its hands, but now it’s more of a nudge. Small favors.
