Lifeboat

A little lifeboat bobbed and pitched in rolled on relentless waves .

Bob... PItch... Rol... Bob... Pitch... Roll...

She could feel all of these motions but she could explain none. Only when she opened her eyes did she realize where she was. Staring up into the inky blackness of the sky, gazing at the apparent misplaced beauty of pinpoint stars, she began to understand.

Something tapped at the side of the boat. She pushed against the rough bottom, lifting herself slowly, and peered over the edge, almost afraid to see what it was. But as her head cleared, she realized it was nothing more than the insistent prodding of waves. Pushing her. Pushing her farther. Pushing her farther from anything. From anyone. From everyone.

And she began to feel afraid. This was not where she should be. The honeymoon had been carefully, meticulously planned and she should be with Derek. But where was he? Hadn't he gotten into the little lifeboat with her? She thought she could almost remember he been beside her when she drifted to sleep?

Drifted.

The term terrified her. How long had she been drifting? Was she nearing land or was she in the middle of this cold soup of water?

Fog thickened around her, adding to the sense of danger and drama and all the things she would enjoy in a novel. She did not enjoy them now.

She was lost. Lost at sea.

The term, the concept… Both were horrifying. But not as horrifying as the reality.

She sat on the small boat, craning her neck, scanning, searching, trying to see land. Any land. Not just the land she’d come from, but anything.

Anywhere stable to put her feet.

A beam of moonlight, stronger or more determined than the rest, cut a shaft of light, pointing to a specific spot on the surface of the water.

When she saw the dark spot far away, illuminated by the light, she thought it was the land. Through the fog and the mist, it had seemed possible, although the distant part of her mind, the part that hadn't sunk into panic, murmured how improbable that idea felt. And, as she watched, the dark spot grew. She paddled toward it, using hands instead of the oars that had long since disappeared into the depths of the water.

But… It was growing larger in the wrong way. Somehow… Wrong. Not in the way a landmass grows. Not with the gradual definition of trees and shorelines. No. She couldn't define what the wrongness was, but she could feel it. She felt it in her belly, and then her heart and her mind screamed a warning. She stopped paddling.

Studying the dark spot in the moonlight, she thought of another possibility.

Maybe, she decided, it was a piece of the boat. Or the yacht, or ship. What had Derek called it? She couldn’t remember and it didn’t matter.

It didn't matter what Derek had called the boat. Derek was gone.

But maybe, just maybe, this was a piece of the boat. Some part of the vessel had to have a black box. She allowed her mind to play with that idea. Did big boats have black boxes or was that just airplanes? There had to be something, some way to track a boat or ship or yacht if it went missing. Slowly, she lowered her hands into the water, pulling the icy, foaming waves with cupped fingers.

Her fingers were numb. She realized how ineffective her efforts must be. A woman, small for her gender, pulling a lifeboat through an ocean, fighting wind and waves as if by her own Herculean effort she could force the world to cooperate with her desires. she stopped again, staring at the darkness floating atop the waves, illuminated by a single beam of light. Around it, the fog and mist swirled in an obscene dance, becoming her to join.

That was when she decided she'd lost her mind. She was cold and wet and tired.

She felt wild with hunger and thirst and her lips felt dry and cracked with the salt and wind. Fear seemed to coat her inside and out, but it generated no warmth. Its icy fingers ran up and down her spine and across her skull as she studied the darkness, trying to decide what to do about it.

"Amber..."

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory of Derek's voice from her consciousness. She didn't have time for this. If she was going to survive, she --

"Amber..."

His cry rode the waves toward her, surfing across the caps, dying as it made its way to her ears. She whispered his name, but it died on her lips.

"Amber..."

She squinted. A hand reached up from the dark place. He called again.

Her hands hit the cold ocean, pulling, paddling. She could save him if she could only get the lifeboat to him in time. Her mind raced, energized by her new groom's pleas. He'd managed to grab hold of a piece of the ship. He'd managed to find her.

Forcing the last atom of her strength toward her rescue effort, she dug and dug and dug into the frothy, churning ocean. She could feel the seconds and minutes ticking off with her heartbeats but lost count as she maneuvered the little boat nearer and nearer

His hand fell beneath the waves, then raised to hail her again, weaker. He called her name again, but the sound was far away.

Panic drove her on, pushing fear to the far reaches of her soul. She could do this. She would do this. And then she and Derek would face this long night together.

The lifeboat bumped into the dark debris and Amber reached for Derek's hand, pulling again, this time against his weight. Her fingers, already frigid, felt frostbitten in his grasp.

"Help me get you in here," she whispered, effort making her words sound timid.

He held her wrist tightly and put his other hand on the edge of the lifeboat. "I can't get in, Amber. I'll tip the boat."

'I don't care. YOu have to get out of the water." She didn't want to let go of his hand but knew she had to create balance so that he could lift himself out of the waves. "I'm leaning back. YOu climb in."

It took several tries, but finally, finally, Derek managed to lift himself over the boat's side and drop to the floor.

"Thank God," Amber cried. She snuggled against him. It would be alright now, she knew. They were together and they would figure it out. Together.

"You're so warm," he whispered into her hair. "So warm. So alive..."

She took Derek's face in her hands, turning it to her, lowering her face toward his lips.

But she stopped and jerked backward.

Derek smiled.

Chunks of missing flesh and black, souless eyes told her the truth.

She screamed as he sat forward and pulled her throat toward his open, horrid mouth.