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“Okay, people,” he said, standing back, “guess we’re ready to go for this. J.B., you take that raft with Jak, Doc and Dean. I’ll take this one with Krysty and Mildred. We’ll divide the baggage so that we get slightly more in this one,’ he continued, prodding the raft with the toe of his combat boot.
“Sounds about right,” the Armorer replied, casting an eye over the assembled companions before polishing his spectacles in readiness for the journey ahead.
The division of personnel and supplies was based on the size and weight of the individuals concerned. With seven people and two rafts, one would have to take four and one three. The problem was how to divide the personnel so that the weights would be roughly equal in each craft. Given that Ryan would pilot one craft and J.B. the other, it made sense to put the three lighter people in with the Armorer—who was himself wiry rather than muscular like Ryan—and to take the two heavier individuals with himself. Krysty and Mildred were both muscular for women, whereas Jak and Doc were very light for men. Dean was still—in this sense—a child. This arrangement would leave the weight distribution a little uneven, with the emphasis on the Armorer having the heavier boat. But by taking more of the supplies on with Mildred and Krysty, the one-eyed man would be able to balance the weights more successfully.
The two parties divided and loaded the rafts before carrying them to where the waves gently lapped at the shore.
“Take it out some way before launching,” Ryan yelled to J.B.
The Armorer agreed. “Figure that this tide is deceptive—could push us back easier than we think. Go up to the waist?”
“Yeah, that’ll make getting aboard real easy,” Mildred said to Ryan.
The one-eyed man grimaced. “I know, I know. You figure how we can get past the wave limit, and I’ll go along with it.”
Mildred chuckled. “Yeah, okay, boss. I know we don’t have a choice, I was just moaning some.”
Krysty raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that? Yeah, I think you’re speaking for me, as well.”
The good-natured banter helped take their minds off the fact that the seawater was icy cold on their legs as they moved deeper into the tide. The current tugged at the sodden clothing around their limbs, flooding the boots on their feet. It had been a conscious decision to not shed these, in case they became separated at some point from the rafts and thus lost their invaluable footwear. It was just that right now it felt as though that very same footwear was weighing them down as the waves washed over them, trying to tug the raft into shore as they pushed out.
J.B.’s estimate had proved correct. By the time the water washed around the waist of even the tallest of them, they had passed the point where the gathering waves tried to take the raft back to shore. Now they could mount the crafts to begin the short journey in earnest.
As the raft bobbed on the water, Ryan held it steady as Krysty and Mildred climbed in. They found it hard to get purchase on the slippery plastic, which gave too easily beneath them, allowing seawater to pour into the shallow basin. Both cursed heavily but managed to balance the raft as Ryan heaved himself over the lip and into the main body.
“Fireblast, I hope this island is worth it,” he breathed heavily. “You wouldn’t reckon on something this simple being so damn hard.”
“Gets harder, lover. You take first pull at the oars,” Krysty said slyly, handing him the paddles and pointing in the direction of the island. “Shouldn’t take too long.”
Ryan took the oars from her without comment and began to pull toward the island.
Meanwhile the other raft had proved to be less problematic for Dean and Jak, who were light enough to mount the raft without much trouble. But Doc had more of a problem, slipping in the water as he tried to thrust himself over the lip, nearly turning it over. It was only J.B.’s hand at his back, pushing him up, that stopped him from slipping back into the water.
“My apologies,” Doc gasped as he settled himself and lay back to help balance the raft for J.B.’s entry. “I fear that the sea is an environment I find all too alien.”
“Not the only one,” Jak commented, barely suppressing a shiver as the icy cold of the water still chilled his bones.
J.B. took the oars and began to row, with some distance to make up on Ryan. His muscles knotted as the sea gave hard resistance to his strokes, making the tendons stand out as he gritted his teeth and gave more effort.
Both Ryan and the Armorer discovered that, despite the seemingly calm exterior, the tidal currents beneath the surface were strong and pulled in different directions, countering each other and attempting to shift the rafts first one way and then the other. Progress toward the island wasn’t as swift as they would have liked, every stroke forward also taking two from side to side. If the sea was to prove this difficult when it appeared calm, how would it be when they hit the white water, the area where the turmoil beneath the waves was actually visible on the surface?
“Here it comes—better hold on tight,” Ryan warned as he looked over his shoulder to see the first rearing horses of white water approach.
In the other raft, it was Jak who sounded the alarm. “Real bad sea coming….”
If anyone had had the time to reflect, it might have been obvious that the patch of choppy sea was caused by a tidal stream that ran through the middle of the channel. A tidal stream with a current so strong that it cut through other crosscurrents as they pulled the direction of the water every which way—This tidal stream was stronger than any force that any of the companions could exert on the oars.
“Bastard!” Ryan yelled suddenly, his voice whipped away on the wind that now blew hard and harsh across the channel.
As the raft reached the white water, the first blow of the erratic and dangerous tide took him by surprise. He had been ready for something, but not this. The water moved beneath the raft like a solid floor, suddenly shifting direction and lifting it onto the crest, pulling the oars from the water and tugging them almost out of the one-eyed man’s grip. It took all Ryan’s strength to hold on to the oars, although they were next to useless as they paddled thin air. The raft was thrown up by the white water and spun in a semicircle before hitting the sea again with bone-jarring force. It was all that he, Krysty and Mildred could do to hold on to the ropes ringed around the tubular structure, curling them around their wrists as much as possible to gain a better purchase.
No sooner had the raft hit the water than it was pitched sideways by another conflicting current. It spun across the surface, almost hitting the raft piloted by the Armorer.
Not that J.B. was having any better luck in his attempt to control his craft. The first patch of choppy water had pitched the raft from underneath, upsetting the balance of the raft and almost overturning it. Water washed over the sides and filled the bottom, making it difficult for J.B. to pull on the oars. Dean and Jak immediately started to bail, but were stopped by the next buffet that lifted them up and propelled them forward. At least it was in the right direction. It did, however, bring them into direct collision with the other raft.
“Dark night! If I ever get off this crappy sea I’m never getting wet again,” J.B. muttered as the water forced the two crafts together, the hard, inflated plastic tubes crunching together and forcing his craft into a strange angle from which it was all the occupants could do to keep hold. For the briefest of moments the Armorer caught a glimpse of Mildred, their eyes meeting across the spray of water that washed into the bottom of each raft. He could see primal fear—the fear of buying the farm—in hers, and he was damned sure that she could see the same in his.
And then they were apart again.
“Fuck it! There’s more than just water underneath us!” Ryan exclaimed as the bottom of the raft hit the sea once more and bulged in a shape that was gone before they could even attempt to identify it. The shape appeared again at the side of the raft, where it slammed into the side and sent it spinning once more.
“Oh