Page 77 of The Wild Beneath
“You won’t always be afraid of the sea, Annie,” Walker says, as she attaches the clasp.
“Please don’t take it off until you’re both back.”
His eyes appear bluish now. Last night, they were their usual grey, and last night she didn’t feel alone at all. It was sex, but itwasn’tsex. Their bodies pressed together had a singing bowl quality, like the ones she used to hear on the beaches in Baja.
“I’ll miss you,” he says.
“I can’t watch you go.” She pulls Walker’s sleeve back down, hiding the necklace. “I’ll be here waiting.”
They leave Annie behind.
Hours pass as Evan drives the tug through the channel. He runs his hands nervously over the cool steel of the helm. The booms are a carpet of logs behind them, carving floating hieroglyphs into the water.
Walker stands on the foredeck and watches the sea.
The two of them have not exchanged words since they left.
It’s nearly evening now. The light fades behind a growing bank of clouds. The channel is smooth, not a lick of wind—a calm that hides what’s ahead.
Evan fidgets with a chewed pen cap as he watches the barometer. He doesn’t need another radio report to tell him there’s weather coming, and sooner than predicted. His pulse has quickened. He scans the chart in front of him.
Walker comes into the console. “That storm is coming,” he says.
“It wasn’t supposed to hit this quick,” Evan says. “We need to find a safe harbour.”
Walker looks out at the water, unblinking. He’s doing that quirky thing where he’s too quiet and seemingly obtuse, and it’s infuriating Evan.
“Why don’t you ever fucking say anything?” Evan shocks himself.
Walker doesn’t react. “We won’t make it in time.”
Evan checks the speed they’re making. One knot per hour, slow, so the log booms don’t pull apart. He could possibly increase to two. But ahead, there’s only a rocky, narrow channel with sharp granite walls for at least another ten nautical miles.
No cove, no bay... no hideout. Nothing close enough.
“Drop the booms and speed up. That’s your only chance.”
“I can’t drop the booms,” Evan growls. “That’s the whole reason we’re out here.”
“You could die if you don’t.”
“These logs are how we survive. Don’t you see that?”
“Annie needs you.”
This paralyzes him. He left her behind to please his dad. Again. Why is he risking his life for this? He squeezes his eyes closed.
He can’t allow himself to lose focus. Not now. “We can make it.”
Walker turns to the sea, then back to Evan. “You’re not listening.”
He knows Walker is right. But as he grips the helm harder, he hears Isaac’s voice:Be-responsible-everyone-is-depending-on-you.
He can’t drop the booms.
It’s only minutes before the wind starts gliding through the branches of the trees on shore. If Evan didn’t know better, he could mistake it for a gentle breeze.
But he grinds his teeth together, because he does know better.
