The Tides That Bind Us [AfroFuturism]

The Last Time

Zaharah grabbed the controls as water slammed into the side of the pod. The waves pushed against it, driving them further and further away from the Hurakan. Further from their family. She held tight to the controls, working the throttle to keep the pod steady, but if she pushed too hard, the propeller could burn out and they'd be tossed by the surf.

She turned the vessel and rode parallel with the waves. It took them farther away from the boat, but she had no choice. If the pod got damaged, they'd all be in danger. Damn it. She glanced at the display on the console and watched the boat shrink in the rear camera.

Tears pricked her eyes, and the rawness in her throat amplified. But she sucked it up. She sucked up all the grief and frustration welling up in her stomach and crawling down her back and stuffed it away in a vacant corner of her mind where it couldn't distract her. For now.

When they reached calmer waters, she popped the pod's lid, but all she could see was a thin stream of smoke and a hint of flickering orange on the horizon. The rank Atlantic air buffeted her face and chilled her skin.

And it was quiet, too quiet. To think an hour earlier, she'd been sitting in the kitchen with her mom and sisters bitching about her stupid contract. She swallowed and swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. Get it together. She was the adult here. Quelle had easily taken charge back on the boat; now that responsibility fell on her.

Zaharah reached under her seat and fumbled around until her hand connected with a latch. Two survival suits and survival kit popped out. "Jade." Her sister was still curled up in her seat, face buried in the bag as though it could shut out the world. She didn't know what to say. That everything would be fine? It sure as hell didn't look like it.

"Jade put this on." She pushed the weighty square of fabric at her sister, but Jade didn't respond. "Look I this..." She wracked her brain for the right word, and couldn't find it. "It's a shitty situation but we can't lose our heads."

Jade raised her head and gave Zaharah a sour look. You suck at this.

Zaharah couldn't refute that, but it still stung. "Just put the damn suit on." She dropped it in Jade's lap. "Skorpi is this pod linked to the systems on the ship? Is there any way we can use it to contact them?"

"I can try." Skorpi hopped on the pod's console.

While he was busy with that, she stripped to her underwear and tugged on her survival suit. The thick rubbery material stuck to her and the oxygen canisters dug into her back. Or perhaps her injuries made her hypersensitive. She let the breathing apparatus dangle around her neck and pulled her hoodie back on.

The radar showed an island east of them. Denden, it was called. Zaharah had never heard of it, but the government had all kinds of floating hunks of metal drifting out in the water. Maybe there was someone in Denden who could help them.

Or they could go back. Circle the boat and try to find someone.

Zaharah bit her lip. "What do you think, Jade?" she asked. "Should we go back?"

"I would advise against that," Skorpi said.

I want to, but dad told us to get away from the boat, Jade signed. We should... She closed her hands into fists, her jaw set and eyes on the bag in her lap. I don't know. I wish Quelle was here.

"What if they need our help?" Zaharah stared out at the horizon, at the steady stream of smoke. The boat hadn't completely sunk yet.

Skorpi walked across the console, the patter of his legs filling the pod. "We should at least try to contact them first. I don't know the status of communications on the ship, but this should be the correct channel."