Henry heard her voice on the radio, “… NO, I will not accept a collect call from that womanizing ass—”
“Jan, now hold on. Listen. I’m in trouble.” Henry tried to control his voice. He wanted to yell, but he wasn’t sure how well the noise would carry through the trees. It was less windy here.
“You tell that bastard that he can call me on his cell phone. Where is he? Is he in prison? Is that why he’s calling collect? Well, you tell him he can rot for all I care.”
“This is MARS radio operator—”
“Goddammit, Jan, listen for a second!” Henry spoke as loud as he dared, his eyes darting up the path to see if there was any sign of the Chinese. “I’m in serious trouble here!”
Static noise.
“Hotel Golf, this is MARS radio operator seven-three, over.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “What is it?”
“Hotel Golf, this is MARS radio operator seven-three — break — I regret to inform you that the number you have been connected to has terminated the call, over.”
Henry wanted to scream. That woman was literally going to be the end of him.
He was thinking about what to say to the MARS radio operator when he saw it. A raft-like black boat bounced along the waves and headed straight for the spot that David had told him to be at. Henry swiveled his head one last time, checking to see if—
Up on the path. A football field away, but walking towards him. There were at least six of them. Black uniforms. Machine guns drawn. They crept along, scanning their weapons back and forth as they walked.
Henry froze. He suddenly felt incredibly visible, wearing a white tee shirt and greyish pants in a dark green jungle. He needed to run. He looked back at David’s boat. He had to go now. He looked at the HF radio. The antenna was spread out fifteen feet, the end taped to a tree. Those men were getting closer. He dropped the radio.
Henry grabbed the pillowcases of supplies and heaved the large, heavy cylindrical roll of shower curtains over his shoulders. Then he bolted towards the beach, running as fast as he could while carrying the load of supplies. He looked up every few seconds to see David heading towards him, bouncing through the surf.
The boat practically flew onto the beach and lodged itself in the sand. David was looking all around. He said, “Hey! Get that stuff in here, quick. We’ve got to get this boat turned around and back out there right now.”
Henry said, “Up on the path. I saw some of them approaching.” They got to work turning the boat around. The engine was off and swung up so that the propeller wouldn’t get damaged.
Henry hopped into the craft and started the engine as David instructed him. David was walking the ship by its side into the water, until the engine was in the water and able to push it along. As soon as that happened, David hopped into the boat and Henry pushed the power lever forward. Once David was in, he took the controls and drove them out to sea.
A gunshot rang out behind them.
The two men looked back towards the island and saw half a dozen men in black uniforms sprinting towards them. One man was on his knee, taking aim. David saw a flash from the muzzle. He heard a weird snapping sound as the bullet whizzed by, followed by the crack of gunfire a split second later.
“Holy shit, get us the hell out of here!” said Henry.
David gunned it. The boat heaved forward into the heavy waves, thick white foam and salt spray splashing up over the bow. Henry lay pressed flat against the deck of the boat, holding on to metal cleats for balance. The bow hit a larger wave and they pitched up so high that David thought they might tip over. But then they came back down, hard, and kept driving forward, farther away from the soldiers on the shore. David turned left, maneuvering them back around the island and out of sight.
Several shots rang out behind them, but they were getting far enough away and bobbing so much that none of the rounds came close. After a moment, the gunfire stopped. David looked back at the men. They were running the opposite direction, no doubt going for reinforcements.
Henry said, “Are they gone?”
David looked down at Henry, huddled on the floor. He said, “What happened to your face?”
Henry waved him off. He said, “Shoe polish. In retrospect, it was an ineffective solution to a larger problem.”
“Can you hand me the duct tape?”
Henry dug in one of the sacks and handed it to him. David ripped a long patch of duct tape and put it over the gash in his arm.
As they rose and fell with the waves, David began giving Henry his idea on how they could set up the makeshift sail out of shower curtains, shower rods, and duct tape.
“I think I can fix something up,” said Henry.
The two men did an inventory in the boat and were thrilled when they found an emergency kit with some fishing gear and a water purification device. With any luck, they could make it to a mainland or get rescued by a passing ship.
They were still heading parallel to the shore, towards the other side of the island. David said, “We will need to turn out to sea now. If we keep going this way, we’ll risk getting seen by anyone occupying the other base.”
Henry looked out towards the ocean. White caps went on as far as he could see. He nodded. “The weather looks like it’s clearing up. Maybe the waves will slow down a little. We’ve got to go for it, right? It’s our only shot to get word out.”
“Yeah… our only shot.”
David turned the wheel to starboard and they began their journey out to sea.
CHAPTER 12
The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.
David held the plastic bottle up, letting the final drops of water fall into his dry and open mouth. It was one of their last water bottles. He sat listening to the now-calm ocean lap the hull and wondering how far they would make it.
Only two days and they were almost out of water. At first Henry and he had planned to use rain to replenish their stores. Since the storm had blown through, however, they had seen nothing but clear skies.
David brought up the idea of using his tee shirt as a filter for salt water, but Henry assured him that it wouldn’t work. Henry was now setting up one of the shower curtains like a tent so that any condensation would drain into the empty bottles — a sort of fresh water collector. But that was a long-term solution for a short-term problem — they needed freshwater soon. It was very hot. They could stretch out the collection of snack foods that Henry had gathered for another few days, but not the water.
David looked over at Henry. He seemed better than yesterday. His face was still a little green. At least he had stopped throwing up. He was not meant to be at sea, he kept saying. The experience they’d had in the storm that first night had been both frightening and physically draining.
The storm had tossed the tiny boat around like it was a bath toy. They could barely control the direction of the boat. The motor and rudder kept coming up above the waterline as they surfed up and down the gigantic whitecaps. After turning out to sea, David had put their supplies into a small storage chamber on the port side. Henry and he had spent the next ten hours throwing up while holding on for dear life. The waves were the biggest David had ever seen in person. Twenty-footers, easy.
He prayed a lot that night. There were moments when he didn’t think they would live. There were moments when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to, his misery was so great. But the thoughts of his wife and children would flash in his mind and he would pray some more. He felt guilty that he only called on God in times of need.