Page 4 of Wild Life (STEAM-y #2)

Ship Happens

Maris

“He’s not here.” Malcom’s attention remained on his laptop screen as he shoveled a spoonful of fruity O-shaped cereal into his mouth. The Internet was spotty at sea, but it wasn’t needed to review data, since everything was backed up onto an external hard drive when we couldn’t access the cloud.

The boat swayed, propelling me into the crew mess. I quickly regained my composure, as if I had meant to tumble-walk to the booth. “Who?”

Malcom clicked through his spreadsheet, his cleanly shaven jaw working through chomps of fruity cereal. “Your boyfriend.” For a grown man, he sure did relish in harassing me like a snotty teenager.

I slouched back into the ripped cushion of the bench seat, flashing him a prime view of everyone’s favorite finger. “Fuck off.”

He might’ve been my research lead at work, but I would always see him as my undergraduate roommate’s smart-mouthed boyfriend. I had spent four years sharing a closet-sized dorm with Sibley and the love of her life, Malcom Jones—aspiring conservation resources management biologist. Having been subjected to the sight of his disgusting cum-stained boxer briefs on the bathroom floor one too many times should have granted me a pass from his heckling. Since then, Malcom and I had earned our doctorate degrees, yet he clearly still retained his immaturity. He might not have been a part of Sibley’s life anymore, but he had been a fixture in mine for the past two years while on his research team at the university.

Malcom was a great scientist and fantastic leader. I honestly couldn’t imagine working for anyone else, even if he knew the right buttons to push to irritate the hell out of me. He was like that annoying big brother whom I shared no DNA with yet couldn’t get rid of.

His umber eyes glittered with amusement, nearly matching the color of his smooth skin. “Fucks before breakfast? What a way to start the day!”

Fran stumbled into the mess like I had, except with much more poise and a well-rested face. If she hadn’t been such a sweet person, I’d have despised her for her porcelain skin and pin-straight hair, the kind I could only achieve after an hour with my hair straightener.

Fran Park was the kind of woman who didn’t need makeup to look presentable. I, on the other hand, needed a shit ton of foundation and concealer to smooth out my nearly translucent skin stained with party marks —the dark spots that took your face hostage when you didn’t get more than three hours of sleep on a regular basis. It would be fine if my sleepless nights ever involved dancing on tables and doing body shots off male models. But no, my insomnia was mainly because of my pitiful need to cuddle with any man who showed me the least bit of attention. Why was I such a hot mess?!

My colleague was so enviably perfect from the time she woke in the morning until the time she went to bed. In my defense, she was our resident ornithologist, which by default made her a morning person—early to bed, early to rise and all that deal. Bat people, on the other hand, were not morning people. Nighttime was our time to shine since most species were nocturnal.

The boat sloshed, and my stomach dropped. The water was unruly. If it kept up, one scopolamine patch to fight nausea wouldn’t be sufficient.

“Water’s getting kinda rough, huh? Eat something so you don’t throw up.” Fran served me a bowl of marshmallow cereal before sliding into the booth next to me.

“Thanks.” I wasn’t hungry, although it was my favorite, but I forced down a spoonful to express my gratitude.

“Everything okay? I heard you and Eli talking last night.” Her low voice didn’t keep Malcom from minding the conversation.

“We’re calling it talking ? The entire crew had surround-sound audio of you two howler monkeys fucking and fighting. I was ready with a bucket of cold water to break you two up.”

“Malcom!” Fran scolded. He had managed to finagle two faint wrinkles between her brows that I hadn’t known she was capable of.

“What? They get to keep everyone up with their drama and I can’t comment on it?”

“Lay off, Malcom,” I grumbled. “I’m not in the mood.” My head was pounding, and I needed to get my shit together before we made landfall to set up nests to tag bats.

“Never mind him, he’s just jealous he’s not hooking up with anyone.” Fran waved our boss away.

Ever since the breakup with Sibley years ago, Malcom had become the eternal bachelor, and it was no wonder why. His loose tongue scared off any woman who paid him attention.

“If that’s what a relationship sounds like these days, then count me out of it.” Malcom pushed his cereal bowl out of the way.

Fran shook her head and directed her attention to me. “I’m here if you want to share.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a weak smile.

Where would I even begin? How could I explain that I needed Eli in my bed so I could sleep properly, except now that he wanted to be exclusive and label us , I was damn near ready to jump out of my skin to get away from him? It would make no sense, no matter how hard Fran tried to understand it. It barely made any sense to me.

No. Deflection was the only sane option. “Do we think we’re really going to make it out into the field today?” The floor heaved, jerking me forward so my sternum met the edge of the table.

“It had started raining before I came down here,” Fran said.

“I spoke to the captain, and he said that we’ve moved into a system. We’re close enough to shore that he should be able to drop us off and then we can find shelter on land to ride it out. Unfortunately, we may have to push our start out by a day or two, depending on how long the storm lingers.”

I groaned. I was too excited to commence research, but I understood the potential change of plans. The shitty weather would certainly disrupt the ecosystem for a few days, throwing the bats off their usual routine.

“Morning.” Eli’s sunken voice cut through the room, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. Time to face the music.

Fran and Malcom swiveled their heads in his direction, each offering a jumbled “Good morning” in response.

He looked terrible, just like me. Eyes bloodshot and hair disheveled. His gaze didn’t quite meet mine. The awkwardness was like static electricity—painful and inescapable. We still had two more weeks left on this trip, and it wouldn’t be fair to our colleagues to drag this energy with us off the boat. The right thing to do would be to explain my lunacy and move past this as best we could. It was my fault that this had escalated the way it did.

So, I decided to be an adult and approached him first. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied nervously.

“Can we talk?”

Suddenly, my balance vanished, and I lurched into Eli. He caught me in his arms before we stumbled backward into the wall together. Fran shrieked as she flew headfirst over the table.

The floor tremored violently underneath us. My stomach roiled from the motion, threatening to heave marshmallow cereal chunks. Loud creaking, like when wood is about to snap in half, echoed through my ears.

Dishes smashed onto the floor. Malcom’s laptop went flying across the room. Our bodies moved as if without gravitational center, rolling and knocking into each other haphazardly.

Shouting blared from above. Malcom charged through the mess, planting his palms on the walls for stability. Eli was hot on his heels.

“Eli!” I cried. But he never turned around.

Fuck.

I gaped at Fran, seeking any justification to follow the guys—a nod, a thumbs up, or maybe an “I’ll come, too,” but she just stared back with wide eyes, begging me to stay.

I couldn’t sit still when it sounded like Armageddon up there. What if something happened to Malcom or Eli?

“Wait!” I called out, running after the men.

“Maris, no!” Fran shouted after me.

I took two steps at a time, the rough wooden edges scraping my bare feet. I pushed the hatch door and climbed up onto the deck.

Water pelted my face, and the wind tossed my body to the side like an empty plastic bag.

I squinted to make out the crew. Some were securing items with rope. Others were bolting the hatches shut to keep water from seeping in.

The captain was pulling on the crank to deploy the storm anchor, as Malcom ran over to help him. Chains clanked over the booming thunder.

“Maris!” Eli was busy tying a rope with another crewmate. “Get back inside,” he bellowed.

He really didn’t know me if he thought I’d sit idly by while our vessel was in danger. I had learned how to tie knots on previous voyages and would put my skill to work.

I ran to the edge and pulled on the ropes. Eli grabbed my arm. “Do you have a fucking death wish? Get back inside! These ropes are heavy, and it’s too dangerous for you!”

I jerked my arm from his grasp. “I’m not leaving.” Just because I was a woman didn’t mean I was useless. Fuck him for thinking so.

The boat dipped, and I lost my footing on the slick wood.

“Maris!”

I couldn’t stop sliding. I caught the railing and held on tight, trying to pull myself away from a wicked sea that had sprouted tentacles, ready to grab me.

The boat swayed harder this time, and my hands slipped off the bars.

And suddenly, I was falling. I could clearly see images from my life passing by: prom, graduation, my first car, my first apartment…the faces of my parents, happy and smiling, like they had been waiting all this time to hug me. With my arms wide open, I flew toward them—toward love.

And for the second time in my life, my limp body crashed hard into a wall of coldness before everything went black.