Page 5 of Dance Practice, Marooned: Part 2

“Hey,” I say, nudging her. “You good?”

She doesn’t answer for a minute. Then she says, “I thought I saw something.”

I follow her gaze, squinting against the glare. For a moment, all I see is blue, and then—there, a weird little flicker on the edge of vision, like a toothpick balancing on the seam where sky meets water. Could be a shadow, or a trick of the light, but it looks enough like a boat that my pulse does this weird little double-step.

Before I can say anything, Tatiana yells, “Eggs!” and holds up a handful of seabird eggs, beaming like a champion. Aggie crows with delight. “Score! We haven’t had protein in days!”

Rachel’s still looking at the sea. “Do you see it?”

I nod, slow, watching the spot. It is so far away that it really could be a trick of the eyes. “Yeah,” I say, voice small. “Do you think it could just be a trick?”

She shakes her head. “I spend my days staring out there, I have never seen something as clear as that, even if it is far away. I think it’s a boat.”

If it is, we can’t risk wasting time.

Aggie and Tatiana haven’t noticed. They are busy placing the eggs in something so they don’t break. I walk over, crouch beside them. “I think there is a boat,” I murmur, low enough that the wind almost takes it.

Aggie blinks at me, frown creasing her forehead. “Where?”

“Out on the horizon. Could be nothing.”

Tatiana leaps up, eggs forgotten, and sprints to the edge of the cliff, hair streaming behind her like a flag. Aggie and I follow, then we all stand there, staring, our eyes squinted. Deep inside, every single one of us is hoping it is a boat, but we’re all too scared to hope.

Aggie grabs my hand, squeezes it until my fingers hurt.

“If it’s really a boat,” she says, “we need to signal.”

“You’re right,” I say. “Come on. We need to get down, and fast.”

We run—me in front, Tati and Aggie behind, Rachel last. We climb carefully only when needed, the rest of the time we are dashing like our lives depend on it. We slip, tumble, bash our knees, but we make it. I can barely breathe, adrenaline making my skin buzz and my hands shake.

We reach camp, shouting for someone.

Ace and Adrian appear.

“What’s wrong?” Ace asks, his eyes on us, narrowed because we absolutely look terrible.

“I think there’s a boat, out there on the horizon,” I shout.

He glances at me, sees my face, and doesn’t waste time asking questions. “Zeke!” he roars, and within seconds, Zeke and Kellen have appeared from the woods, covered in sweat, eyes narrowed in the same confusion Ace just showed.

“Yo?”

“There’s a fuckin’ boat out there,” Ace tells him.

“What?” Zeke practically screams. “What the fuck? Let’s get this fire started. Let’s go! Throw everything you can, fucking everything on what’s there and light it up. Leaves, sticks, it don’t matter.”

We start rushing around, taking what we can into our hands and running towards the coals still burning from the night before. While we’re doing that, Kellen has the scope we found on the wreck, and has it stretched out, looking at the ship.

Then, in a cold, broken voice he bellows, “Fucking stop. Stop now.”

The sudden way Kellen’s voice cuts into the chaos zaps all the energy from the air. Everyone has their arms full—sticks, driftwood, palm fronds, Tatiana balancing a log on her shoulder—but when Kellen says stop, I stop, and then everyone else does too.

Kellen is frozen, eye pressed to the battered brass of the scope. Ace walks over and tries to pull it from him, but Kellen doesn’t let go. His knuckles go white, and it’s only when Zeke says his name in a low, warning tone, that he lowers it.

“What is it?” Ace growls.

Zeke puts his hand on the scope, silent permission. Kellen surrenders it, his jaw so tight it’s scary. Zeke stares for a long minute, then gives it to Ace. When he’s done, he drops the scope to his side and turns to stare at us, his face twisted with something unreadable.