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Authors: Emily Kimelman
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at my legs and a thrill of fear ran through me as I imagined a giant silver barracuda coming to eat them. Pulling my calves out of the water, I hugged them to my chest.
“Please,” she said behind me, “I’ll help you, really I will.” Ana Maria started to cry. At first it was softly enough that I could pretend I didn’t hear it but soon it turned into deep sobs. When I finally looked over at her she was hugging the ladder, shaking. I stood up and faced her. She looked terrible. Red eyes and puffy lids, her nose was running and she wiped at it with the back of her hand which left a streak of blood there.
“They will come after us,” I told her. She nodded, a flicker of hope behind her eyes. “Ana, you’ve never had to run from anything. It’s not fun. It’s scary and dangerous and to be honest, we are unlikely to survive.” But in my mind I was already planning how we would. I could see ten steps ahead of where we sat anchored now. In my mind we were already safe. And I couldn’t do it without her. Someone had to drive the damn boat.
“I can handle it, anything you need,” Ana Maria said, her voice was strong and while the whites of her eyes were red there wasn’t a tear in sight.
“Fine,” I said, “lower a lifeboat.” Walking over to Blane, I said, “All right. This is where you get off.” I helped him to his feet. He didn’t struggle as I hauled him off the deck. Ana Maria lowered one of the two dinghies into the water.
Blane laughed when he saw it. “You’re putting me in there. And then what?” He turned to Ana Maria, “You two are going to head off into the sunset.” I pushed him toward the little boat. “Seriously, Sydney, this is insane. You can’t really be considering-” I cut him off by shoving him off the edge. Blane landed with a thud and a yelp at the bottom of his tiny ship. Blue let out a bark of excitement and paced the edge of the deck looking down at his prisoner.
“Bon voyage.”
“Sydney! Sydney!”
Ana Maria stood next to me looking down at him. Her fingers tapped against each other in nervous excitement.
“Pull up the anchor, let’s get back to the marina,” I said. Ana Maria did as she was told and we were under way. The yells of my former superior died out in the wind. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought I heard him say something about ruing the day. I laughed out loud at the thought. Ana Maria looked over at me and I stopped. “Sorry,” I said.
She shook her head. “You have to laugh when life is at its worst.”
“Right.” I smiled at her.
“What about Alejandro?” she asked, looking over at his slumped form.
“I think we need to give him a burial at sea,” I said. I watched her closely, waiting for a protest or a look of horror. But she didn’t get upset, not even a flicker of anger crossed her face. Ana Maria walked over to her cousin’s corpse, kissed him gently on the forehead and then with a grunt of effort began to drag him to the edge. I watched her and so did Blue. Neither of us made a move. She positioned him parallel with the side of the deck and whispered softly, crossed herself and then with a push that was almost a shove, he fell. A short silence was followed by a loud splash and then nothing. Ana Maria sat crouched at the edge of the deck.
“Ana,” I said. She didn’t turn. “Ana, it’s time for you to take a shower.” Silently she stood up, passed me without a glance and disappeared below deck. I looked at the trail of blood that Alejandro left in his wake. A large pool marked where he died, a thick line as wide as his body showed the path his corpse took overboard, and a smaller but deeper river slithered toward the helm.
I pulled my phone out of my bag and place a call. “Sydney Rye account 0054624,” I told the operator. The two short rings of European phones rang in my ear. “Darcy Milligan, Private Jet Charters, consider it done,” was how Darcy always answered the phone. “Ms. Rye, how can I help you
“Please,” she said behind me, “I’ll help you, really I will.” Ana Maria started to cry. At first it was softly enough that I could pretend I didn’t hear it but soon it turned into deep sobs. When I finally looked over at her she was hugging the ladder, shaking. I stood up and faced her. She looked terrible. Red eyes and puffy lids, her nose was running and she wiped at it with the back of her hand which left a streak of blood there.
“They will come after us,” I told her. She nodded, a flicker of hope behind her eyes. “Ana, you’ve never had to run from anything. It’s not fun. It’s scary and dangerous and to be honest, we are unlikely to survive.” But in my mind I was already planning how we would. I could see ten steps ahead of where we sat anchored now. In my mind we were already safe. And I couldn’t do it without her. Someone had to drive the damn boat.
“I can handle it, anything you need,” Ana Maria said, her voice was strong and while the whites of her eyes were red there wasn’t a tear in sight.
“Fine,” I said, “lower a lifeboat.” Walking over to Blane, I said, “All right. This is where you get off.” I helped him to his feet. He didn’t struggle as I hauled him off the deck. Ana Maria lowered one of the two dinghies into the water.
Blane laughed when he saw it. “You’re putting me in there. And then what?” He turned to Ana Maria, “You two are going to head off into the sunset.” I pushed him toward the little boat. “Seriously, Sydney, this is insane. You can’t really be considering-” I cut him off by shoving him off the edge. Blane landed with a thud and a yelp at the bottom of his tiny ship. Blue let out a bark of excitement and paced the edge of the deck looking down at his prisoner.
“Bon voyage.”
“Sydney! Sydney!”
Ana Maria stood next to me looking down at him. Her fingers tapped against each other in nervous excitement.
“Pull up the anchor, let’s get back to the marina,” I said. Ana Maria did as she was told and we were under way. The yells of my former superior died out in the wind. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought I heard him say something about ruing the day. I laughed out loud at the thought. Ana Maria looked over at me and I stopped. “Sorry,” I said.
She shook her head. “You have to laugh when life is at its worst.”
“Right.” I smiled at her.
“What about Alejandro?” she asked, looking over at his slumped form.
“I think we need to give him a burial at sea,” I said. I watched her closely, waiting for a protest or a look of horror. But she didn’t get upset, not even a flicker of anger crossed her face. Ana Maria walked over to her cousin’s corpse, kissed him gently on the forehead and then with a grunt of effort began to drag him to the edge. I watched her and so did Blue. Neither of us made a move. She positioned him parallel with the side of the deck and whispered softly, crossed herself and then with a push that was almost a shove, he fell. A short silence was followed by a loud splash and then nothing. Ana Maria sat crouched at the edge of the deck.
“Ana,” I said. She didn’t turn. “Ana, it’s time for you to take a shower.” Silently she stood up, passed me without a glance and disappeared below deck. I looked at the trail of blood that Alejandro left in his wake. A large pool marked where he died, a thick line as wide as his body showed the path his corpse took overboard, and a smaller but deeper river slithered toward the helm.
I pulled my phone out of my bag and place a call. “Sydney Rye account 0054624,” I told the operator. The two short rings of European phones rang in my ear. “Darcy Milligan, Private Jet Charters, consider it done,” was how Darcy always answered the phone. “Ms. Rye, how can I help you
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