“We got what we came for,” I say. “How’s this hunk of junk?” I point to the WaveRunner.
“Well, we’re not going to be running it anytime soon. But I can fix it,” Calvin says.
“A man of many talents—chicken and motor whisperer.” Zane laughs.
I want to say not everything is worth fixing, but then that kind of wrecks Calvin’s entire personality. And I’m still not sure how I feel about him. Even after last night. Which I’m fucking confused about.
Chapter 16
Rouge Wave
Zane
Calvin’s sitting next to me, and we’re pulling away from the beach. The WaveRunner’s almost floating and tied up to a tree. The tide will lift it off the sand in the next hour. When we swing back around, we’ll be able to grab it and tow it back to camp.
I glance over at Calvin. Sam and Easton are in the front of the tender. And damn, I know he wants to do this, but it’s getting later in the afternoon, three, maybe. And the sun will start to set in a few hours. Five, five-thirty. It’s light a little longer than it would be back home.
December. I’m trying not to think about it. My mom and sister are all alone for Christmas. It’s December tenth, if we haven’t lost track of any days. And I don’t think we have. It’s been a long time. But it feels longer.
And I get it. I get why Calvin wants to bury what’s left of the people over at the pomelo beach. But we need to get back home.
Fuck. Home. But that’s what it is.
“It’s like three,” I say.
“Three-thirty,” Calvin counters like he’s got some atomic clock in his back pocket.
I cock my head at him.
“It’s just a guess. But yeah, it’s getting late. Tides for this kind of trip will never be perfect.” His head bows.
And I’m feeling like a fucking asshole.
“We can do it some other time, another day, another year—I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He looks out at the rocky shoreline that follows Chicken Beach, then back to the bin of clucking chickens. “It’s not right to keep them from water and bugs either. Plus, we’re going to need to build some kind of enclosure. At least at first, until they just start hanging out near us.”
“You sure?” My heart soars.
“Yeah, we should at least poke out around the end of the island and see what we can see.”
“Hell, yeah.” I shouldn’t, but I push the throttle down. It gives us a little more speed.
Sam’s head snaps back to me. “What’s that for?”
“We’re going up a bit and then turning back to camp,” I say.
“That’s a fucking good idea.” Sam gives a single nod and pivots back to the front of the boat.
The coast undulates in and out for a good clip. And when we edge out to the ocean, it’s just as rough as I expect.
“Hold on,” I shout. And fucking hell, we catch a rogue wave and bounce. Most of the things are tied down—everything but me.
My feet fly out of the boat, and my hand leaves the tiller. Calvin screams. I’m arching my body as far away from the motor as possible, and when the waves hit and it’s just water—not the searing pain of a blade chopping through my body—I’ve got to say I’m relieved.
I’m not wearing a life jacket. Because, well, complacency happens. That’s what flashes through my mind as I’m sinking down. Fuck, how easy it would be to not even try.
And then I see Haley’s blue eyes shining at me. Her smile, her calm demeanor.
I’m pulling at the water, rising up as I do. It’s ten seconds, maybe less. When I gasp through the surface, the tender’s over a hundred feet away. I raise my hand up like I’ve got a question. I bob for a few seconds, sputtering out the saltwater from my lungs. And then I head straight for the raft. Well, not that straight—my line is more of a crooked path. But Calvin’s got the tender pointed at me.
