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Chapter 3: Escape
It wasn’t only the wealth gap that had gotten her attention, confirming that things were out of whack. There was also alarm over the warming climate. And what really scared her was when she noticed the insects were mostly gone.
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The impact almost threw Brie out of the bunk.
“Arial’s boat. I’m on Arial’s boat.” This realization occurred as she searched for something to hang on to, hearing and feeling the groan of the hull as the waves hit the boat.
Awake now, she dropped her legs over the edge, feet searching for the floor. Pitch-black. The second impact was staggering, throwing her into the opposite bunk rail. Hands searching for the light. There — light on.
She made her way down the passage, bracing herself to stay upright. She could hear the beat of the diesels. That was reassuring; Arial must still have control. Up the steep stairs. Through the salon to the pilothouse, where Arial was bent over the controls, working the wheel.
It was eerily dark. Only the whitecaps were visible in the surrounding waterscape.
Arial noted her unsteady arrival. “You’re up. Not surprised. We’re in the straits, and we’ve had a weather change. Hence this rough stuff. But we’re fine; Miss Ann has handled much worse.” Then, just as a wave crested the bow and washed across the…
