Page 53 of Dauntless
I grabbed them.“What am I doing?”
“Signalling.Get a reflection, and get it to the boat out there.”
“Right,” I said, fumbling with the binoculars.“Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot, right?”
“Oh, so you know that, but not the flags?”
“Everyoneknows that.”I hunkered down beside him, angling the binoculars in an attempt to catch the scant sunlight.
The door shuddered again.
“Fuck,” Joe said, his voice cracking.“Eddie!”
I looked up at him, and his expression was stricken.
“My hands are sweaty.I can’t hold it!”
I dropped the binoculars and clambered to my feet, my stomach swooping.I stood beside Joe, shoulder to shoulder, and put my hands over his.
“You let go,” I said, the wind whipping my hair, “and I’ll hold it.We’ll brace it together.”
My eyes stung as the door shuddered again.I glanced behind us.The boat was closer now, close enough to make out the blue checks along the side of it.
Still too far though.
Underneath my hands, Joe’s sweaty grip slipped another fraction.
This wasn’t going to work, and I was pretty sure Joe knew it too.So instead of telling me we were going to die, he told me something else instead.
“I like you, Eddie Hawthorne,” he said.“I like you a lot.”
My heart clenched.
“I like you, because you’re funny, and cute, and you wear stripey socks.I like you because you laugh a lot.I like you because you have a smile like sunshine, and you share your food with my dumb dog when you think I’m not looking.”His hands slipped again, and I saw the fear flash in his eyes.“I like your books and your glasses and the fact that everything you wear clashes.I like you, and even though I hardly know you, Iwantyou.I think we’re good together, and, whatever happens here, I think I could have more than liked you too.”
“That’s more words than I’ve ever heard you say at once.”I swallowed around the ache in my throat.“I like you too, Joe Nesmith.”
I nudged his hand with mine.His grip loosened.
The door smashed open before we were ready for it, catching Joe with a glancing blow.He stumbled back, hitting the rail of the catwalk.He caught the rail, and his knees hit the catwalk.I didn’t even have time to see if he was okay, because suddenly Short Clarry was advancing on me.He was red-faced and sweaty.The gun shook in his hand.
“Clarry,” Joe croaked.He tried to stand, but it was like he couldn’t get his feet under him.“Clarry, don’t.”
Short Clarry ignored him.
I moved back, one hand on the rail.
“Clarry,” Joe croaked again.
I backed away, out of Joe’s sight, around to the leeward side of the catwalk.I didn’t take my eyes off Short Clarry.I just kept moving, wondering when he was going to shoot.
I stumbled into Joe coming the other way, about halfway around.He was leaning heavily on the rail, and his face was white as a sheet.I gripped his hand tightly as Short Clarry advanced on us.
Then, I caught a glimpse of movement down by the cottage.A streak of black.Hiccup.She was bounding down the hill joyfully, her tail wagging.
And there was someone striding up towards her.Someone in a bright yellow puffer jacket.
Joe squinted in the same direction, and his eyes lit up,
