Alex

Alex adjusted another sail, desperately trying to convince himself that he could handle this on his own. He had been telling everyone how ready he felt to tackle life in New York after graduation, but this? This was not the impression he wanted to make. Suddenly, the boom swung sharply to the right, and before he could react, it cracked him hard in the forehead. Instantly, a sharp pain erupted, and warm blood trickled down into his eye. “Damn it!” he cursed, frantically wiping at the crimson streaks.

Fighting the mounting panic, he stumbled toward the fancy radio his parents insisted on equipping him with. Fumbling with the buttons, he pressed the distress signal until it beeped. If it worked as intended, it had sent out a distress beacon to the nearest Coast Guard station with his coordinates. He shook his head at his own stupidity. He was never going to live this down.

After waiting a moment to make sure the signal made it, he took a deep, steadying breath and depressed the radio call button on the handheld mic. “Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the sailing vessel Nerissa. I repeat, this is the sailing vessel Nerissa, Nerissa, Nerissa. I am in immediate need of assistance. Can anyone read me, over?”

“Vessel Nerissa, this is the United States Coast Guard Station Eastport. What is the nature of your emergency, over?”

Relief surged through him, but it quickly morphed into dread when he realized the storm had pushed him far off course. Eastport was far to the north of Portland. But he couldn’t think about that now. He would worry about that when he was back on dry land. “U.S. Coast Guard Eastport, I am caught in this big-ass storm, and I can’t outrun it. I’m taking on water. I think I’m gonna capsize. You guys gotta get me outta here. I am a forty-foot sailing yacht. Single white hull with dark blue stripes and white and blue sails. Over.”

“Okay, I hear you, don’t panic. How many on board? Over.”

“It’s just me. Over,” Alex yelled over the storm.

“Okay, please confirm, there is only one person on your vessel, correct? Over.”

“That’s correct, it’s just me. Over,” Alex confirmed.

“Understood. Are you injured?”

His heart raced as he felt the throb in his head intensifying. An embarrassing reminder of his failures “Uhh … well, I hit my head, and I’m bleeding pretty bad. I think I might have a concussion or someth—oh shit!”

A massive wave crashed against the boat; the deafening crack of wood followed by an agonizing creaking groan echoed in the air as the mast fell onto the cockpit. In sheer instinct, he dove below into the companionway of the cabin. Desperately, he scrambled for the emergency handheld radio and turned it to Channel 16. Static crackled, and he could already hear the urgent voices of the Coast Guard trying to contact him. Thank goodness for that.

“Vessel Nerissa, come in, over. Sailing vessel Nerissa, please respond. Over.”

Breathless, he managed, “I’m here. I’m here. Vessel Nerissa responding, over.”

“Are you okay? Over.”

Was he okay? The swirling haze of fear made it hard to think. “Uhh, not really. A wave just shattered my mast and dropped it on the cockpit. I no longer have any control of the boat. I’m kinda screwed, man. Over.”

The coastguardsman replied, “We are already on our way to you. Try to keep calm. We’ll be there as soon as we can. I already have your position from your emergency beacon. Do you have your life jacket on? Over.”

Thank goodness for small victories; that was one piece of advice he had heeded from his parents. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it. Over.”

“Listen, if you go over or if you must abandon ship, just worry about keeping your head above the water, but try not to tire yourself too quickly, all right? Stay on your vessel for as long as you can, though. That’s all I want you to focus on right now. We’re coming to get you. Over.”

Tears threatened to spill, but Alex fought them back, trying to project strength. He tried to distract himself. “Hey. What’s your name?”

“My name is John. What’s yours? Over.”

Alex sensed something behind John’s calm voice—a shared understanding of the gravity of his situation. “Alex. Alex Roth.”

“You’re going to be okay, Alex. Just breathe, okay? Over,” John coaxed.

“How far away are you, John?”

John hesitated, and Alex’s heart sank. “We are on our way. Just sit tight. Over.”

“That far, huh?” The dark laughter escaped his lips, laced with hysteria. “Something tells me you guys aren’t gonna make it here in time, John.”

There was silence on the line. Panic bubbled within him. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Just hold on, Alex. We’re coming. Over.”

Then another colossal wave slammed into the boat, shaking it violently and tossing him around like a rag doll. Crashes echoed everywhere as supplies and belongings ruptured from cabinets. When the chaos finally settled, Alex groaned loudly. He felt as if he had just been trampled by an entire football team. Something heavy had pinned him up against the back wall. Maybe the couch broke loose or something. He was disoriented, and the side of his head was tender, and it added to the throbbing from his forehead. He must have hit his head again. Then he felt water on his legs. Freezing cold water. And it was rising. Fast. His eyes snapped open and looked down. Water pooled around his legs. He stared at the murky darkness surrounding him, and he realized the cabin had flipped upside down.

Surprisingly, he managed to hold on to the radio. He grasped that he must have pushed the button a few times while he rolled. John shouted at him to respond, and this time, he was the one who didn’t sound calm. Panic clawed at him as he heard John’s frantic voice. “Alex! Are you okay? What happened? Over.”

This isn’t good, he thought. Struggling to keep the tremor out of his voice, he said, “The boat rolled. I’m in the cabin, and it’s filling up with water really fast. There’s something heavy on top of me, and it’s really dark. I don’t think I can get out. Oh, God, I think I’m gonna die here.”

A quick response shot back, strong and certain, “No, you’re not. Listen to me, Alex. You must stay calm. You’re going to make it out of this, okay? You just need to hang on a little longer. We’ll be there soon, okay? But right now, I need you to take off the life jacket. The water will shift the stuff in the cabin so you can make your way out, but you won’t be able to swim out of the cabin with your life jacket on. Let me know when you get it off. Over.”

Alex’s heart raced; adrenaline coursed through his veins as he tried to process John’s words. A tear rolled down his face, but strangely, he felt calm, even as the icy water lapped at his hips.

“John?” His voice croaked, the weight of desperation heavy in his chest. “Do you…. Do you think you could give a message to my parents for me?”

“You can tell them yourself when you see them again, okay, buddy? Did you take off your life jacket yet? Over.”

The urgency in John’s voice somehow made his calm more surreal. “Please, John? Just in case I don’t make it. I need them to know something.”

A moment’s hesitation caught the air between them. Something in John’s reply felt different this time; a crack laced through his usual bravado, small enough that Alex wondered if he imagined it. “Okay, Alex, but only just in case. You’re going to make it. Over.”

But nobody believed that—not John and certainly not him. He smirked as he replied, “Yeah, John. Totally. I’ll even take you out and buy you a beer when I get back to land.”

John chuckled, though it sounded forced, and the humor vanished as they both faced the grim reality. “What do you want to tell your folks? Over.”

As the water climbed steadily higher, Alex could feel its icy fingers creeping closer to his chest. “Uh …” He cleared his throat, struggling to steady himself. “Could you just tell them I’m sorry?” The words clawed their way out, breaking the surface of composure he tried to maintain. “They always told me to never go out alone, but I just graduated college, so I wanted to go out on my boat to celebrate.”

The confession tumbled out, each word heavy with regret. “My classmates were supposed to come, but they got wasted at a party last night. I was just too impatient, I guess. God, I’m such an idiot. I know my dad will probably blame himself, but it’s not his fault. He taught me the right thing to do; I just didn’t listen. I should have canceled my trip or found someone else to go with me. So, tell them that. Tell them I’m sorry for being stupid and careless.”

As the water rose to his chest, the cold began to gnaw at his resolve. “Jesus, fuck, this water is cold. John? Can you still hear me?”

“Yeah, buddy. I’m here,” John said softly, the connection a tenuous thread.

“Will you tell them that? And tell them I love them too, okay? I should have stopped by their house to say hello, but I thought I would have time after I got back. Goddamn it.” A bitter laugh escaped him, one that echoed the futility of his situation. “This wasn’t how my life was supposed to go, you know? I have this great job lined up in New York at Cornell University. I was going to make a big impact on the world and shit. I was supposed to do big things. I never expected to die like this.”

The water continued its ascent, reaching his neck now. Panic began to bubble within him, the grip of fear tightening like a vise. He had to lift his face up to keep it above the water, but soon he was gasping and spitting out water. He hated how terrified his voice sounded, but he couldn’t stop it. He talked quickly and barely knew what he was even saying. He gasped wildly, dread creeping into the corners of his mind. “John? The water is really high now. I don—” Water rushed into his mouth, and he coughed violently, spluttering out the salt and cold. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not,” he gasped again, choking down water that threatened to swallow him whole. “But I just need you to get that message to my mom and dad. You—” He coughed again, feeling the depth of his own fear rise with the water. “You’ll tell them that, won’t you?”

John’s silence loomed over him like an unyielding shadow, but Alex probably wouldn’t have heard him anyway as panicked as he was. Plus, in his terror, he never let go of the call button, so John couldn’t respond, even if he wanted to. “John?” Desperation clawed at his throat. He spit more water out of his mouth and stretched his body as far as he could in a futile effort to stay above the water. “Fuck. John? Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh f—”

The water enveloped him, a suffocating shroud that masked all but the frenzied beating of his heart. It pressed against him like the weight of despair as he clung to the radio, his last thread to humanity, an unwilling lifeline in a world turned wild. For just a moment longer, he held onto it, listening for John’s reassuring voice, the echo of camaraderie amid chaos. Then, just like John said, the weight pinning him shifted.

With a burst of adrenaline, he released the radio and tore away his life jacket, shedding the buoyancy that felt more like chains than safety. The cabin’s fractured remains loomed over him, but he summoned the strength to maneuver, pushing against the debris until he could slip into the abyss beyond. The darkness below was intoxicating, seductive, but his lungs screamed for air.

As he broke free into the open water, air rushed into his lungs, burning like fire. But relief was fleeting; panic gripped him as the unforgiving waves tossed him around in the tempest. Choking on the icy rain that battered him, he thrashed desperately, limbs heavy with exhaustion and soaked clothing, each movement a battle against the relentless sea.

His gaze scanned the wreckage around him—fragments of his beloved boat scattered like memories lost to time. But amid the chaos, there glimmered a beacon of hope—a distant light, piercing through the stormy shroud. The whirring thrum of a helicopter barely penetrated his foggy senses, yet it ignited something deep within. A flicker of resolve. They were here. They had come for him. They made it in time.

But as he fought to swim toward the light, fatigue clawed at his willpower. His body felt foreign, betraying him as his vision blurred. Desperation clawed at his mind as he sank beneath the surface once again. Panic surged through him, and he willed himself back up—there was help, just a fighting distance away. John had told him he would survive this, hadn’t he?

Every ounce of energy dwindled; limbs were numb from the frigid embrace of the ocean. The helicopter hovered like a guardian angel overhead, its spotlight illuminating the roiling water. Gasping, he raised a hand, a feeble signal for salvation. Just a little closer, he thought. But then the world around him spun. Light faded; consciousness slipped away like grains of sand through his fingers. He felt the water close around him again like a coffin.

Then, with a final, valiant effort, he kicked against the water, breaking through the surface one last time. The air tasted sweet yet was laced with salt and fear. His eyes fluttered open, finding the helicopter hovering above him, a veritable dream. He locked eyes with the rescue diver that was getting himself ready to jump in after Alex—hope blooming in his chest even as despair sank deeper. Too late. A monstrous wave roared toward him, obliterating every shred of the feeble hope he had just felt.

The deluge crashed down, smothering him, imprisoning him beneath the tumultuous waves. He tumbled, disoriented and helpless, the black void eagerly swallowing him whole. All fight seeped away, consciousness faded, leaving only the serene dark and the haunting silence of what could have been.

~^-^~

The Mermaid

The ocean roared with a ferocity that rattled the very bones of the sea floor; waves crashing and tumbling like relentless giants. Deep beneath the surface, amid swirling currents and chaotic eddies, she darted through the water, her shimmering tail cutting through the depths with purpose. She had felt it. The tremor in the water, the desperate energy of a life slipping away.

As she approached, the sight that met her eyes shattered her heart. There he was, the boy from before, caught in an undercurrent’s vicious embrace, his body being tossed like a jellyfish. A dark wave had loomed over him, and in an instant, it struck, sending him spiraling beneath the surface. Panic surged within her as she realized he was too weak—too far down—to reach for the light above.

The sounds of a rescue helicopter roared above, the frantic whir of blades dancing against the sky, but to her, it was merely background noise. The divers were coming, yet a chilling realization gripped her: they would never find him in time; he was already lost to the depths of the abyss. The water was dark and unforgiving, concealing him from the world above.

With every ounce of strength, she swam faster; her heart raced as she closed the distance between them. She reached him just as darkness claimed his consciousness, his body limp and unresponsive. Her instincts screamed against the encroaching despair. She could feel the coldness of the deep wrapping around him, pulling him into its grasp. But something deeper than fear compelled her forward. A powerful force that whispered of connection, of fate intertwined beneath the waves.

“No!” she cried, her song swallowed by the water. She could not let him die.