Lost at Sea

The yacht rolls wildly on waves that overcome the prow and flood the deck. Wind rips the sails to shreds and wooden planks from the main body of the vessel. The cabin is filling with dark liquid, swirling and frothing around their feet. They're sinking.

Molly, Carmen, Steve, Tony, and John rush up the stairs into squalls of driving rain. The gravity davit is secured to the ship's railing and contains the lifeboat. Rainwater pounds against their skin. John removes the cover, and the two women climb in, each sitting opposite to the other. The three men are next.

Steve is next to Carmen, a little unsteady from the drinks he'd had with her and Tony. Tony, a lightweight, sways, stumbles and falls, hitting his knee with a sickening crack. He rolls to one side and lays beneath Molly's feet, moaning and holding his leg. John is last.

As he's boarding, they're blown back by a powerful gust, and he's tossed overboard. He tumbles at an awkward angle, slamming his head against the rail. The splash his body makes is unheard in the downpour.

Carmen lowers them into the swell as Molly searches frantically in the darkness and mist for her husband, but he's nowhere to be seen. She wails for him until her throat hurts and her voice is haggard. Only the thundering clouds and undulating sea answer her.

They huddle together until the storm lifts. The yacht is out of sight, and John is gone. Molly is crying and has been for hours. Her head is in Carmen's lap and the other woman strokes her hair.

Steve takes a look at Tony's kneecap. Dried blood is crusted on the skin around an ugly gash and down the calf. Tony's hands shake and he grits his teeth as Steve flushes the wound with seawater.

"Steve," Molly says, "I don't think you should use that water. Won't it get infected?"

"No, the saline solution doctors use is basically just saltwater. Salt kills bacteria. It's simple."

"But that's sterile, Steve- "

He cuts her off; his jaw is tight. "I know what I'm doing!"

Molly gives in. Steve tears part of his shirt off and wraps it around Tony's injury. He uses the rest to mop up the blood and water and tosses it into the sea.

The sun is high in the sky now, and each person's skin is red and sore. Molly has her arms curled around her shins and hides her head in a blanket of dark hair. She covers as much of her skin as she can. Steve, now bare-chested is burning at a rapid rate. Carmen and Tony are suffering as well, but less so.

That evening, Carmen cares for Tony. He is sweating and shivering at the same time. His face lacks color. She rinses the cloth in the ocean, and after cleansing the lesion, she rewraps it. Tony is breathing heavily. Each person is silent. There is nothing to say.

When night comes, the moon is only a sliver and the light is nil. They can feel the waves but can't see them. The lifeboat is rocked occasionally, either by the ebb and flow of the water or by unseen creatures testing its sturdiness. Their sleep is restless.

The next morning, Molly spots a fin, gray and white-tipped cutting through the water. The speed at which is moves is astonishing and a chill runs down her spine. Then it glides back into the midnight sea, like it was never there.

She checks on Tony. The stretched and bulging skin around the wound has turned shades of white, green, and pink. Full of doubt, she cleans the rag with seawater and places it over the laceration.

Carmen and Steve are both lethargic. Their eyes are sunken and their skin is dry. Tony gags and Molly helps him move his weak head over the side of the boat to vomit yellow stomach acid. Molly swallows. She's parched and desperate for the storm to return. Anything for a drop of water.

As the day drags on, Carmen becomes delirious. She mumbles to herself and talks to people who aren't there. She leans over the bow and gazes into the distance.

"A ship on the horizon! We can get help!" Her voice is cracking, but full of hope. Her body lurches to one side, but she stabilizes herself.

"Carmen, where is it?" Molly's voice is nothing more than a croak.

"There! There! It's getting closer, Molly! I think I can swim to it!"

Steve sits upright, "Car, you think you can make it?"

"You guys, we'll wave them down. Please don't jump in!" Molly says, thinking about the fin she saw earlier, but Carmen is already taking off her pants and blouse, revealing the one-piece she wore. She smiles and looks back at her three friends.

"I'll bring help. We'll all be okay!" She says and leaps into the water.

"No!" Molly’s yells is masked by splashing.

They watch as she swims, her head bobbing in and out of sight, getting smaller until she's gone. Steve rubs Molly's back as she sobs.

"Steve," she says between quaking breaths, "There isn't any boat! She's dead! She's dead!" Her body is wracked with grief and she collapses into his shoulder.

It isn't more than an hour since Carmen leapt into the unknown that they notice Tony’s nails are blue on ashen fingers. He’s cold and clammy to the touch and his breathing is shallow and rapid. Steve unwraps the bandage to find the wound is oozing pus. It has grown bigger now than when he first fell. Steve pours more water on it, muttering about keeping it clean, but Tony goes still.

Molly touches Steve's forearm and whispers, "I think it's too late."

Steve continues pouring as if he didn't hear her for several long minutes, while Tony stares into the sun with unseeing eyes. Molly lays limply behind him, too shocked by what her life has become to react anymore. Finally, Steve's hands fall away from his friend, and he groans; an animalistic, guttural sound.

The air is still, soundless. Neither Molly or Steve want to say what's next. They don't want to say what they need to do with the body.

The sun is setting now, vibrant orange turning to crimson and purple. Molly kisses Tony's brow and gestures at Steve. He looks away, working his jaw and clearing his throat, before looking back at her with wet eyes.

"Do we have to?"

"Yeah. I mean, how long are we going to be out here? He's going to- "She chokes on what comes next, "decompose."

Nodding, Steve grabs Tony's feet, and Molly his torso. They push him up and into the water. Like a stone, he sinks, and bubbles rise to the surface. There's movement too deep to see clearly. A flash of white flits under the current and a red cloud blooms all around them. Steve screams.

Molly doesn't want to sleep. The black, inky void of the night they're floating through is full of monsters, both nightmarish and horribly real. She can't see Steve, but she knows he’s rocking back and forth. He's whispering, but she can’t make out the words.

When she wakes, Steve is talking. He pauses now and then as if waiting for a response.

"You remember, Tony? When we made a pact to quit smoking? Yes! When you and Susan were trying and she went cold-turkey for the baby. I just signed on to be supportive, but of the three of us, I was the only one who never had another cigarette! Yeah, buddy, I wish she came with us too. She makes a mean martini and I could really use one right about now!" He laughed then. It sounded somewhere between a cough and a cry, but still distinctly a laugh; hollow and sad.

"Steve?" Molly keeps her voice calm, but her heart is thudding in her ears. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, Molly," he says, his voice getting quieter with each word, "Yeah. Yeah, just talking to Tony."

He's smiling at her, but no light reaches his eyes. His burned face is blistering and dark bruises have formed under his eyes. His lips twitch as if he's losing control of his expression.

"Tony's not here," Molly says. Steve chuckles, his shoulders moving up and down in an exaggerated motion.

"Of course, he's here! He's not feeling well since his accident, but he's right here. It isn't nice to pretend he's gone. He needs some extra love and care, that's all." Steve stands, a hand at his forehead to block the bright sunlight.

Molly sees the fins, two now, circling them like vultures. They smell death, she thinks and shudders. The great head of one breaks through the surface, water cascading down its mottled back.

"Steve, you need to sit back down. Someone will come, I know it!" She pleads, "but you need to sit down!"

"A gas station is right around the corner, Molls, I'm going to buy him a pack of smokes. You want anything?" Molly stands too and tries to take his hand. He pulled away so roughly, Molly loses her balance and falls to the bench with a loud thump.

" Steve, I mean it. You'll die!"

"So paranoid!" He shrugs, plugs his nose, and lets himself drop back into the azure waters of the Pacific Ocean.

Almost immediately, the boat is thrown to one side, foaming water sloshing over the sides. Long, sleek bodies wriggle and twist as they tear Steve apart. One shark holds his head in its jaws and thrashes until it comes loose. The other disappears into the deep with Steve's left arm. They feast in their own private pocket of the ocean, full of blood and gore.

Molly hugs herself and sings a lullaby as loudly as her ruined vocal cords will allow. When she can longer sing, she dozes on and off until nightfall. The air is chill and the water at her feet saps heat from her core. Her body shivers uncontrollably and her teeth rattle. Her toes are numb and her fingers stiff.

She's alone now, except for the star-like organisms that glow a vivid blue. She imagines she's sailing through the galaxy on a rocket made of wood. Just her and the limitlessness of the cosmos. Her body relaxes, and she slumps down into the pool at the bottom of the boat, surrounded by stars both above and below her.

She's growing warmer now as if she's been wrapped in a quilt in front of the fireplace. She closes her eyes and she's there. So is John. He's holding her in his arms and kissing her neck. She giggles, a soft sound. Her mind drifts from her body, and she's gone.