Page 59 of Weathering The Storm

I drop the sea anchor to slow the drift of the raft. Even with the EPIRB transmitting our coordinates to the Coast Guard, there’s no way of knowing how long we’ll be stuck out here before the conditions calm enough for them to send aid.

We’re on our own.

A small emergency flashlight at the center of the canopy washes the inside of the raft in dull orange. Shadows of overspray pattern the fabric overhead with splashes that spread like squid ink through water. It’s almost louder in here than it was on the ship, the rubber squeaking and straining. Freezing rain and ice dumping down on us as the waves threaten to upheave our last remaining source of warmth and comfort.

My men are shivering so violently, I can practically hear the trembles that wrack their muscles. I have no idea how my own body is responding. I can’t feel a thing.

“Bring it in,” I say, huddling everyone together to hold on to as much warmth as possible. Hypothermia is a far bigger threat than the towering waves right now.

We lay side by side. Sardines in a tin. I take the outside and bring Seth’s back to my chest with my hand over his heart. Wishing I could feel the reassurance of its beat through all these thick layers of fabric.

Perry’s on his other side, Jorgensen sandwiched between him and Orlov.

“And here I thought Rittenburg and Captain were the only ones sharing body heat,” Jorgensen says.

We must be hysterical. That’s the only explanation for why that dumb joke sends a ripple of laughter through the lifeboat.

“Hope you’re not the jealous type, Cap’,” Perry keeps it rolling. “I promise, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Not even funny,” Orlov says. “Is so cold, my dick is inside my body. It may never come back out.”

The laughter swells. A big, bright bubble in the midst of darkness that bursts almost as abruptly as it formed. Tapering off into a quiet that drags like a trawl net scraping bottom.

“I think my leg’s broken.” Perry’s teeth chatter.

His leg is definitely broken. Based on the sickening angle of his tibia, I wouldn’t be surprised if part of his bone is poking out through his skin like the tip of an iceberg, but I can only hope the cold is doing a decent job of numbing the pain.

“You know what they say about broken bones,” Seth starts.

“They fuckin’ hurt?” Jorgensen says.

“They build character.”

“Who says that?” I ask.

“Is true,” Orlov backs him up. “I have broken twelve bones, and look at me.”

“Twelve?” a few of us repeat at once.

“Jaw, ankle, foot, big toe, three fingers, nose—twice—and a few ribs.”

“You know, I never thought I could win a fight with you, big guy,” Jorgensen says, “But if you’re that fragile…”

“Maybe you should ask if I won the fights I broke the bones in, first.”

Against me, Seth shakes with laughter. Just laughter, I hope.

It hits me harder as time passes—maybe an hour, maybe more—how much all of these guys have come to mean to me. I’m colder than I’ve ever been, too weak to move, and we could all die at any moment, but somehow, the worst night of all our lives is bearable because of who I have to endure it with.

They’ve managed to throw out hope like a secondary lifeline, just as vital as our survival suits.

But none of themevershould’ve had to bear this. I should’ve been able to keep them safe.

“I wish none of you were here with me right now.” My voice trembles from the cold and the wet. “But whatever happens… I want you to know that being your captain has been the greatest pride of my life.”

“D-don’t do that, Nicky.” Seth grabs my hand, thick with two layers. All the other pieces of my life are now lost at sea, but I still have on the gloves he got me beneath the built-in mitts of the survival suit. “Don’t t-t-talk like we’re not g-getting out of here.”

His shivering is getting worse. It hasn’t escaped my awareness that, of all of us, he spent by far the most time in the thirty-degree water. And for hours before we all abandoned ship, he was the only one on deck who never took a break. Who stood out there chiseling ice and supporting our crew. Leading by example, by being the foundation that holds everyone else up.