Page 70 of Dance Practice, Marooned: Part 2

Right.

“Heard of you lot,” Luis says, crossing his big burly arms. “About a search for a capsized yacht. Didn’t stick around for long, we went back out onto the water.”

So, they were looking for us.

I glance at Aggie, and she bites her lip, no doubt feeling the same thing I am.

Luis turns, barking at the other men to take Tati down to the doctor, and before I can process it, they carry Tati away. My eyes dart in Ace’s direction, and he nods for us to follow. We do, heading down the stairwell. Nobody speaks, we just watch them carry Tati into a surprisingly clean room where a man waits.

Ash stops at the door, putting a hand up. “We don’t want to contaminate the room. The doctor will check the situation and let us know as soon as he is able.”

Inside they go, and just like that, the door is closed in our faces.

“Please,” Ash goes on, waving an arm. “We will go to the dining room and have a meal while we wait.”

We follow him, all of us terrified, relieved, scared and completely exhausted.

The dining room is a large open space, with wooden floors and a line of tables and chairs. It is cleaner than the one we have spent the last few days on, but it is no doubt just as old. The ship creaks as it rocks lightly. Ash waves his hand again, and we find a seat. Ace takes my hand, squeezing. I close my eyes, exhaling, trying to ground myself.

“Do you have a phone?”

Rachel speaks, and I open my eyes to see her still standing, nervously looking at Ash.

“We have satellite phone. You want to make a call?”

Aggie leaps up, so do I. A phone. We can access a phone.

My stomach twists, tight and sick and weirdly empty, the way it used to when Coach announced a surprise away game, except this is not a drill. Rachel nods, her lips tight, her eyes wide. Ash leaves and comes back a few minutes later with a battered black phone. Rachel takes it, then stares over at me. “Who do we call? The police? Our parents? Our coach?”

“Whatever number you know,” Ash mutters, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

God he is incredible to look at.

Rachel nods, over and over, as if her head won’t stop bobbing. She looks so terrified, I can’t tell if she’s about to pass out or throw up. She dials a number. I don’t know who. I don’t even care. I hold my breath and wait. I can tell the very moment someone answers, because she crumbles, falling to her knees as she cries out for her mum.

I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to keep myself together.

“Mum,” she croaks, tears streaming down her face. “Mum, it’s me.”

We give her a minute, stepping away so she can talk. My hands are shaking, my legs jelly. Ace pulls me onto his lap, curling his arms around me, keeping me together because lord knows, I am struggling to hold the pieces still. Time drags as we watch Rachel talking, hearing the occasional gasp, wail or soft whisper.

Eventually, the call ends.

Slowly, she moves towards us, her hands trembling, her face streaked with tears. “Nobody was looking for us,” she whispers, flinching. “All that time... nobody was looking.”

“What?” I whisper, shaking my head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Your... your dad told everyone that the guys,” she pauses, staring at Ace, “that they were hired for security but had a darker plan and hijacked the yacht, sunk it and took us away to be sold. They think we have been fucking sold...”

Aggie’s gasp rings out through the room.

I freeze.

Ace flinches behind me.

“What the fuck?” Kellen barks, his chest rising and falling with rage.

I blink fast, because if I don’t, I will start crying and I don’t think I will stop.