The Deepest Waters, A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

him.
    “What?”
    “C’mon, the big raft.”
    “What?”
    “There’s room, enough for both of us.”
    “I don’t have the strength to move.”
    “It’s not far, maybe a hundred feet. If I can get us there, will you hold on?”
    “I suppose.”
    The big raft . . . what he and Robert had named a pair of doors and hatches some men had tied together right after the ship sank. They had been eyeing it for hours. Well, John had; Robert had given up. It seemed big enough to hold four men, but John had only ever seen three. Two of them had been defending it savagely, kicking and punching anyone who came near. As the afternoon wore on and the sun had sapped everyone’s energy, the battles had ceased. The two warriors on the raft had finally lost the will to fight.
    Sometime in the last hour they had, apparently, lost the will to live.
    “We’re almost there,” John said. “It’s big enough for you to lay there a while and rest.”
    John felt Robert’s legs start to kick beside him. He was still trying. John kept his focus on the prize as they closed the distance. It was too discouraging to lock eyes with anyone on his right or left as he went by. Such desperation and pleading on every face. But he couldn’t help them, not anymore. He was spent.
    The men were already in a state of exhaustion when they’d first entered the water, from days on the bucket brigade. Adding to that, for John, was the mental fatigue from constantly resisting terrifying thoughts that pounded relentlessly in his mind. Then the energy expended conjuring hopeful thoughts, which he didn’t even believe.
    For the moment, John’s thoughts were few. The big raft alone consumed him. And how improved their situation would be if they could cling to it instead of this table.

     
    After John pulled himself onto the raft, he reached back for Robert. He was gone. “No,” he shouted, looking all around the table for him. “Robert,” he shouted. He must have gone under.
    John was just about to dive beneath the table when he heard, “I’ve got him, John.”
    He recognized the voice, the man’s accent.
    “Mr. Ambassador?”
    “He’s over here,” the man said. “The other side of the raft. I’ve got his collar, but I’m too weak to pull him up by myself. And please don’t call me that, John. After all we’ve been through.”
    “Yes, sir,” John said. “Ramón . . . sir.” Ramón Gutierrez, the Peruvian ambassador. The man who’d stood beside him on the bucket brigade. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
    “As am I. For how long, who knows?”
    John edged his way to the far side of the raft, and together they pulled Robert aboard. He didn’t look well.
    “I’m so thirsty, John,” he said weakly. “I drank some seawater, I think.”
    “How much, Robert?”
    “Just a little . . . but it didn’t help.”
    “It won’t help, Robert. And it will make you sick, or worse.”
    “He’s right, Robert,” said Ramón. “The man whose spot you’re taking on this raft tried quenching his thirst from the ocean.”
    Robert rolled over and threw up. Thankfully, just water. John quickly splashed it away. “That’s good, Robert. You’ll be fine.”
    Robert lay there on his side. “I’m so thirsty.”
    “We all are,” John said, patting Robert on the shoulder.
    John leaned over Robert and whispered to Ramón, “The other two men, before they disappeared, I saw them beating anyone who came near.”
    Ramón whispered back, “They had no wives aboard the Vandervere , so all their gold went down with the ship. I promised them each a thousand gold coins if they helped me survive.” He smiled.
    Instantly, John remembered the pouch of gold he’d given Laura. And the note. What was his beloved doing now, he wondered. Well on her way to New York and safety. He was glad of that but immediately stopped dwelling on what she might face once she arrived.
    “Look,” said Ramón. “To the west, a storm building on the horizon.”