Chapter 295: Won’t Get Us Far

Zhiyi caught the back of the seat as cold water struck her ankles.

The bottle slipped against her palm, and she tightened her grip before it could fall. Beside her, Hanchuan stood with his legs braced, waiting for the boat to settle before helping her toward the windshield.

"Sit down here, sweetheart. You can get the bottle ready while we turn," Hanchuan said, lowering her onto the sound seat behind Zeyu.

He checked that her life jacket hadn’t ridden up, then looked toward the bow. "Jingwei, put that fire out and free the bucket. We’re taking water over the side."

Zhiyi looked back at the drawer.

She had been hoping they could keep the embers alive, although she hadn’t worked out what they would feed them.

Jingwei emptied the last of the bucket’s water over the charred wood. Steam rose around his hands, and he waited until the hissing stopped before moving the drawer out of the way.

Zeyu started the engine while Qinghe opened the hatch.

The sound faltered, making Zhiyi lift her head, but it caught before she could see Zeyu’s face. He brought the bow around slowly, watching the approaching waves rather than the rain beyond them.

The boat climbed instead of rolling on the next swell. Water broke across the front, scattering over the windshield, but less came inside.

"We’ll have to keep her facing this way," Zeyu said, glancing toward Hanchuan. "I can do it for now, but I don’t know how long the fuel will last."

Hanchuan leaned beside him to study the water. Zhiyi couldn’t hear his answer over the wind, and she made herself look at the bottle instead of trying to follow both conversations.

There was only a little left. She screwed the cap on tightly and tucked it between her knees while Shichen cleared the tools from their shallow case.

The first rain struck her forehead before he finished.

It came in large, scattered drops that left pale marks on the dirty seat.

Zhiyi turned the saucepan upright, watching water gather around the scraps of fish still stuck to its bottom.

She rubbed them loose with her fingers and tipped the pan to rinse it, losing most of what had fallen inside.

Shichen crouched beside her and held out the lid from the storage box.

"We can use this to catch more," he said, showing her the shallow hollow inside it. "I’ll hold it up here. Tell me when you’re ready to pour."

Zhiyi nodded, but the wind caught the lid as soon as he raised it. He lowered it before it struck her, pressing his lips together while he found a firmer grip.

Rain began running from his hair into his eyes.

She remembered doing this with bowls that had belonged to strangers, holding them outside broken windows while Hanchuan waited behind her.

Sometimes she had caught enough to fill everything they owned. Sometimes the rain moved away while she was still searching for another container.

This time, she could see it coming across the water, thick enough to hide the waves beneath it. They had almost nothing to keep it in.

"The box leaks at the bottom," Zhiyi said, reaching toward the salvaged shirts. "If we put it on its side, the crack will be above the water."

Shichen looked over his shoulder at the box, then pulled it closer. He turned it until the split faced upward and wedged it between the seat supports, leaving the open top tilted toward them.

"That should hold some," Shichen said. He pressed against it to make sure it wouldn’t slide before looking back at her. "We’ll have to keep it low. If we fill it too far, the boat will throw half of it out."

Zhiyi held the saucepan beneath the lid while he let the rain wash its surface. Dirty water ran over his wrist and onto the deck.

When he brought the corner toward her, she caught the runoff, losing some whenever their hands moved apart.

Jingwei knelt on her other side and steadied the pan.

"Keep your hand on the seat," Jingwei told her. "I’ve got this. You can tell us when it’s getting full."

She obeyed, pressing her wet palm against the cushion while the water rose.

Rain battered the lid so loudly that she had to lean close when she spoke. Jingwei bent his head toward hers, listening until she was sure he had heard, then poured carefully into the tilted box.

It took several attempts to fill the bottle.

Zhiyi spilled the first mouthful over her knees when the boat lifted, and frustration tightened her throat. She had caught water before. She knew how to do something as simple as pour it.

Jingwei covered her hand before she tried again.

"Rest it against my leg," Jingwei said, drawing her hands closer. "We’re both moving around too much. Let Shichen do the pouring."

With the bottle braced, they managed it. Zhiyi screwed the cap on and held it against her chest for a moment, watching rain run down the outside. It was heavier than it had been all morning.

She wanted another bottle so badly that she looked around the boat again, although she knew there wasn’t one.

Hanchuan came back from the helm and crouched in front of her. Water dripped from his chin while he checked the box, then the bottle she was holding.

"Have a drink before you put it away," Hanchuan said, brushing her wet hair from her mouth. "We’re catching more."

Zhiyi swallowed before opening it.

She drank carefully at first, then took another mouthful when he kept his hand beneath the bottle instead of drawing it away. Her throat hurt less afterward, and she passed it to him before she could keep going.

"You need some too," Zhiyi told him. "Then give it to Zeyu. He can’t come over here."

Hanchuan drank and kissed her forehead before carrying it toward the helm.

She watched him hold the bottle while Zeyu kept one hand on the wheel, then turned back when Shichen tipped another panful into the box.

They had water now, but Qinghe was throwing bucket after bucket of a different kind over the side.

Rain filled the open deck while spray found its way around the windshield, and each time the bow dropped, Zhiyi heard it running beneath their feet.

The engine faltered again while Jingwei was pouring.

Shichen lowered the lid as Zeyu adjusted the throttle. For a few moments, the engine recovered, and Zhiyi hoped they would have time to finish filling the box before anything changed.

Then it stopped completely.

Zhiyi kept her hand against the water container while Zeyu tried the key, looking toward the waves each time the engine failed to catch. Hanchuan stood beside him, one hand braced against the windshield frame.

Shichen reached for the lid and turned it over, examining the handhold molded into its edge. He looked toward Hanchuan as the boat began to drift sideways.

"We can use this to paddle," Shichen said, raising his voice above the rain. "It won’t get us far, but we might be able to keep the bow around."

Zhiyi drew her knees out of his way while he moved toward the rail.

Beyond his shoulder, the next wave was already lifting, and Hanchuan reached for the only other piece broad enough to help—the lid of their tool case.