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Indiana will not die in a puff of smoke.
I will protect her.
We will survive this.
As if rejecting my vow, Rhino shuddered around us, and the full scuba tanks secured in a cage at the back clanged together.
“Indiana, we need to move.”
Nodding, she eased away from my shoulder. As she wiped tears from her eyes, smudging black soot across her cheeks, her gaze fell to her father’s bloody body at her feet.
She swept her gaze from her father to the inferno destroying her boat.
“Rhino.” Her voice cracked.
“We can’t save her now.” I hated that I needed to say that. “We need to abandon ship. What can we use to help us?”
She shook her head. “The raft is fucked.”
I nodded. The drone had shredded the front of the rubber raft to pieces.
“And we can’t contact anyone.” Her shoulders caved even more. “And I don’t have any flares left.”
I was a beat off asking how the fuck that was possible, but I reined it in. How didn’t matter.
I scanned the equipment room, resisting glancing at Old Smithy as I searched for something we could use to escape. The room was chaos; nothing stood out as helpful.
“Indy,” I murmured, pissed off that there was no time for her grief, “I need your help.”
A blast erupted from the other side of the equipment room wall.
“Shit! We need to get out of here.”
“This can’t be happening.” Her voice was barely audible above the roaring inferno. She was a statue of despair with her eyes fixed on the flames that were stealing the only life she’d ever known. I wanted to hold her and help her keep it together as her world splintered apart.
I gripped her arm. “Listen, we need a plan. Your dad wants you to live, Indy. Help me figure this out.”
“Dad loved this boat.”
“Rhino is gone! Your dad is gone.” There was no time for delicate reassurances. “If we don’t act now, we’ll be gone, too.”
She blinked slowly; her gaze fixed on the leaping flames. I knew the stages of grief. I’d lived through them myself. But if we didn’t move now, we were both dead.
“Indiana!” I snapped. “Where are the lifejackets?”
She flinched, and her amber eyes snapped into focus. Her gaze darted around the equipment room like a wild animal caught in a trap.
The deck beneath our feet shuddered.
“This way,” she yelled and dashed out the equipment room doors like a gazelle in flight.
I shut the equipment room doors behind me, and as I chased after her, my neoprene booties rubbed against the backs of my ankles.
The inferno was like an alien creature, covering the old deck timber with greedy flaming fingers. At the edge of the equipment room, we turned the corner and scanned along the deck. Fiery orange tendrils licked the walls, reaching for the roof of the equipment room. We sprinted along the side deck, and the air was both hot and reeked of burnt oil.
Bullet holes pockmarked the deck in jagged lines.
Did I destroy that drone?
