Savages

22. Differences

Bob.

Bob.

Bob.

Bob.

Bob.

It was strange being on the boat, like being in another world. Everything had fallen away except the wind and the sea and the slapping of waves against wood, the constant rhythmic bobbing of the vessel.

Sannah sat with her arms folded and head rested on the bulwark, mesmerised by the foaming water. The waves were opaque, sucking the light from the fading sky. Sannah tried not to think of the interminable, lifeless depths beneath her. It scared her, and she looked away, fixing her attention on the solid (flimsy!) wood within.

Standing up uncertainly, she went to join Gaen and Deera in the wheelhouse. They were huddled by the steering wheel, their heads swaying with the boat's bob.

"Hey," Sannah greeted them.

"Hey." Gaen looked over to her and smiled. "I was thinking of showing you guys how to steer and navigate. Otherwise I won't be able to sleep until we get to Albia. It's gonna take us about four days, so...you'll need to drive. Just a little bit—a few odd hours. You can wake me if things get difficult."

"Of course." Sannah nodded quickly, joining them by the wheel. "Definitely. Is it hard?"

"Nope, not really." Gaen said. "You shouldn't have to change the speed or anything. The weather is smooth and waters are pretty clear out here. You just need to make sure we keep heading in this direction,"—he pointed to a compass sitting by the steering wheel—"and don't turn too sharply if we drift off course, keep it gradual. Then we'll go here."

He traced their journey across an expanse of blue map, flicking it over to reveal the yellow blob of Albia when he got to the bottom of the page. His finger trailed eastward around the green top of the island, then down the length of the coast.

He tapped the map. "We're heading for Marport. It's the closest to the south of the city and then to Birchwood. That's where we need to be, right?"

"Yep," Sannah agreed.

Deera frowned, looking at their route. "Is safe?" She said uncertainly. "What about border men?"

"Um, yeah." Gaen looked taken aback. "I suppose there might be border patrol. That makes sense. But we're citizens, right? And Deera has Judit's ID. I don't think they'll be interested in us, on a little boat like this. Me and Brock have been stopped before and it's never been a problem."

"If there border men there danger." Deera shook her head. "They catch us, they hurt us."

"She's right." Sannah looked at Gaen. "Maybe not for you and Brock. But us,"—she pointed to herself, then Deera—"They'll take us in for sure."

"You have ID, though," Gaen said. "You're a citizen. And Deera is Judit, as far as they know."

"I still don't think we should risk it," Sannah said doubtfully. "You don't know what it's like, ID or no."

"I don't know what else we can do." Gaen frowned. "Our only other option is..." His finger traced north along the map. "We go for Calside. Is that where you left from with Brock?"

Sannah nodded, the black lines on the map enlivened by the smell of diesel, the adrenalin of escape.

"But that's different to what I planned. Then we've somehow got to travel down the whole of Albia on land, and we don't have any money," Gaen pointed out.