Chapter 287: Starting To Pull Out

Zeyu saw the other boat turn when Hanchuan moved aside to give him a clear view.

The crowded vessel was already falling behind, its passengers barely visible beyond the light sweeping toward them.

Without the tow slowing it down, the motorboat crossed the distance much faster than before.

He pushed the throttle forward, feeling the engine respond beneath his feet.

Behind him, Shichen swore as the bow rose, but Zeyu couldn’t ease off again while the other driver was coming straight at their stern.

"They’ve cut those people loose to come after us," Zeyu told Hanchuan, keeping his eyes on the water ahead. "I can go faster, but someone needs to help Shichen hold that board. We won’t get away from them at the speed we were doing."

Hanchuan moved immediately. Zeyu heard him tell Jingwei to stay with Zhiyi before crouching beside the hatch.

Qinghe shifted to make room without stopping his work, and the next bucketful went over the side as their boat climbed another wave.

Zeyu tried to meet the water without letting the hull slam down. He could feel every bad landing through the wheel, followed by the scrape of someone’s shoe or the dull knock of the bucket against the hatch.

The boat had handled well when they tested it. He remembered taking it through a turn while Shichen stood beside him, both of them watching the instruments and discussing whether they should make another run before storing it.

Neither of them had tested it with a damaged hull and six people who had spent hours trying to keep it afloat.

The light behind them reached the helm.

Zeyu lowered his head as it flashed across the windshield, leaving him looking at his own reflection instead of the waves. He couldn’t tell whether the man holding it meant to blind him or was simply trying to see where they were going, but the result was the same.

"Jingwei, tell me which side he’s coming up on," Zeyu said, blinking until the water ahead began to take shape again. "I can’t keep looking back without losing what’s in front of us."

Jingwei braced himself beside the seat, one arm holding Zhiyi close. "He’s still behind us, coming toward your left. Keep going as you are. I’ll tell you if he gets close enough to touch us."

Zeyu held the course while the other engine grew louder. He wanted to turn away from it, but every change took them across the waves and left the boat rolling beneath everyone working at the hatch.

Instead, he waited until the next rise carried them up before making a smaller adjustment.

Water broke over the side and struck his shoulder.

Zhiyi ducked against Jingwei, who bent over her until the spray passed. Zeyu saw her fingers close around his sleeve, and for a moment he remembered her sitting beside the cake yesterday, trying to protect her piece from Shichen’s fork.

He dragged his attention back to the windshield before the memory could take him any farther.

The other boat drew level with their stern. Its driver shouted something Zeyu couldn’t understand, while the man holding the lamp pointed toward their engine.

The injured man remained crouched near the bow, his arm pressed against his stomach.

"They’re trying to get beside us again," Jingwei said. He had raised his voice enough for Hanchuan to hear, but he kept Zhiyi against him rather than moving toward the rail. "Zeyu, you’ve got some room on the right if you need it."

Zeyu used it before the stranger could bring his bow against them. Their boat rolled through the turn, and the bucket slid across the deck.

Qinghe caught it by the handle before it reached Zhiyi’s foot, then dropped back onto his knees beside the hatch.

Hanchuan looked up at the sound. His sleeves were wet to the elbows, and one shoulder was wedged against Shichen’s while they held the board.

"Keep them away from us," Hanchuan told Zeyu. "We’ll deal with the water. Don’t let them pin you against their side."

Zeyu nodded, though his mouth had gone dry enough that swallowing hurt. He could hear water moving beneath the deck whenever they rolled.

The fuel gauge had fallen even lower since their escape from the tower, and he had no idea how long he could keep doing this before he had to choose between slowing down and running the tank empty.

Rain began striking the windshield before he noticed the darker water ahead.

At first, he thought it was spray from the bow. Then the drops thickened, hitting his face from above and running down his neck.

The other boat’s light became a pale blur on the glass, and Zhiyi lifted her head from Jingwei’s shoulder.

"Keep going into it," Zhiyi told Zeyu, wiping water from her eyes. "He needs that lamp to see us. Once he loses sight of the stern, he’ll have to guess where we went."

Zeyu looked toward Hanchuan, who was already watching the beam struggle through the rain. Hanchuan nodded toward the switches beside the wheel.

"Turn our lights off. Jingwei, keep watching behind us, and let Zeyu concentrate on getting through."

Darkness closed around the bow when Zeyu switched them off. He eased back just enough to stop driving blindly at the same speed, keeping both hands on the wheel while rain stung his face.

Behind them, the lamp swept past their stern and continued across the water.

He waited until the beam moved away before changing course.

The turn felt painfully slow. Zeyu wanted to pull the wheel farther, put as much water between them as possible, but he could hear Shichen struggling to keep his weight against the board. He held the new direction instead, looking back only when Jingwei touched his shoulder.

The light was passing behind them now.

Nobody spoke while Zeyu kept moving. Once, the beam swung close enough to show the tops of the waves off their left side, and he found himself holding his breath until it moved on.

The other engine remained audible for a while longer, sometimes louder when the wind changed, before he could no longer separate it from their own.

Zeyu continued until Hanchuan came to stand beside him. He hadn’t heard his friend leave the hatch, but the hand settling on his shoulder made him loosen his grip on the wheel.

"Bring it down slowly," Hanchuan said. Rain ran from his hair onto his collar as he looked behind them. "We need to hear whether they’re still there."

With the engine idling, Zeyu could hear Qinghe breathing as he lifted the bucket. Jingwei stayed facing the darkness, his flashlight unlit in his hand, while Zhiyi reached for the empty bottle tied inside the rail.

Rain filled Zeyu’s cupped palm when he lifted it from the wheel, and he drank what he could before returning his hand to the controls.

He wanted to laugh at how little it gave him. Instead, he looked toward the hatch when Shichen called Hanchuan back.

The rope holding the patch was still tight, but the board had shifted beneath it. Shichen kept one hand against the wet wood while reaching toward the seat support with the other.

"This is starting to pull out," Shichen said, showing Hanchuan where a gap had opened beneath the mounting. "Help me hold the board while I move the rope. If that seat comes loose, there won’t be anything keeping the cover against the split."

Zeyu looked from the open hatch to the darkness behind them, then shut off the engine so he could leave the wheel.