Page 14 of Shipwrecked

I realise that he hasn’t said a word.

“Jules?” I cup his cheek. His pupils are even, but his gaze is vacant. His skin feels like ice.

“Are you okay?” Mathieu appears in the gap and drops to his knees. In his arms are the throw blankets from the couch. He peers into Jules’s face. “Jules?”

I wrap the blankets around Jules as Mathieu takes his hands and warms them between his own. All the while we’re getting battered by the waves, which are getting rougher. It’s all I can do to keep Jules from getting knocked into the wall or the breakfast bar.

He hit the rail at the same time as I caught him. Did his head whip back? It was barely five minutes ago, but I can’t remember. I feel the back of his head. There’s a bump. It’s the only part of him that’s hot.

“Should I get ice?”

“Not until we warm him up. I don’t know if it’s shock or cold, but until he doesn’t feel like ice, the last thing I want is to apply cold to his head.”

A powerful jolt sends Mathieu crashing into the edge of the bar. He yelps and cups a hand over one eye. Similar sounds come from the others, followed by a sharp cry from one of the girls, their voice too altered to distinguish. “I have glass in my arm. Oh God, pull it out.”

My head snaps up. “Do not pull that out. Mathieu, can you swap with me?”

We swap places. Mathieu braces his arm on the wall and rides out a wave while protecting Jules’s head. I turn my attention to the group. Willow and Charles are holding Mary still, and I see a splash of blood on her shirt. Everyone’s feet seem especially pale and exposed, hovering near so much broken glass.

My attention is drawn past them. I see why the rocking has worsened: the waves are breaking, crashing over the deck. Shit. Waves only break on open water for a few reasons. Freak rogue waves, winds so strong they push the peak of the wave right off, and complicated current and wave patterns coinciding at perfect angles.

“There’s an island.” Yasop is plastered to the window, hanging on to the grab rail beneath it.

“Is there a dock?” Darren asks. He’s exactly where he was two minutes ago, clutching the nailed-down table in the dining area.

“I can’t tell.”

A wave rises high like a wall. It begins to break, and I’ve seen waves like this many times. I’ve chased them with Seán and his dad, dressed in swim shorts, body flat on a surfboard.

You don’t need a single wild element to align for waves to break when you’re in the shallows.

“Life jackets,” I bark. I kick through the glass shards and rip open the life jacket trunk. I toss one at everyone. “Mary, leave that in.” A shard of glass is sticking out of her upper arm. “Help her into the jacket,” I order Willow and Charles. I stuff one over my own head as I stumble back to Mathieu and Jules.

“Are we going to sink?” Darren demands. He gets his life jacket on without issue.

“We’re turning. Our nose isn’t pointed into the waves. Didn’t you say we needed to keep straight?” Mary’s voice is shrill.

She’s right, we’re twisting.

I drop to my knees and pull Jules forward, and realise as I do that he already has a life jacket on. So does Mathieu.

“Everyone brace,” I call.

I snatch the radio from my pocket. Now isn’t the time to distract Seán. I know that. I do. I hold down the button. “Life jacket, Seán. Or I’ll rat you out to your dad.”

There’s a static burst, followed by Seán’s voice. “Nark.”

The wave catches the ship broadside.

We roll.

Chapter Six

Jules

Water crashes over my head, pushing me into a spinning vortex. My neck flares with intense pain. I’m pumping my arms. I don’t know why. I’m stopping.

My arm is yanked, and it feels as though it’s been pulled clean out of the socket. Everything goes black.