“We’ll put you in an inflatable,” he said. “I’ve called ahead, they’ll be expecting you.”
“She’s not well,” I said. “Can’t it be tomorrow?”
“Nope,” said Captain Mishimengo. “The tide’s turning. Miss this window and you’ll be swept out to sea. Warmest clothes, be on deck in ten minutes.”
“Warmest clothes?” said Nicole. “Like we brought an Arctic wardrobe.”
We put on all the clothes we had. Boots, fleece hats, our waterproofs. Nicole went up the ladder first: she wasn’t very steady, and she was using only her right arm.
On deck Captain Mishimengo was waiting for us with one of the crew members. They had some life jackets and a thermos for us. On the left side of the ship a wall of fog was rolling towards us.
“Thank you,” I said to Captain Mishimengo. “For everything you’ve done for us.”
“Sorry it’s not as planned,” he said. “Godspeed.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “And Godspeed to you.”
“Keep out of the fog if you can.”
“Great,” said Nicole. “Fog. That’s all we need.”
“It may be a blessing,” I said.
They lowered us down in the inflatable. There was a little solar motor: it was really simple to operate, Captain Mishimengo said: Power, Idle, Forward, Reverse. There were two oars.
“Shove off,” said Nicole.
“Pardon?”
“Push our boat away from the Nellie. Not with your hands! Here—use an oar.”
I did manage to push, but not very well. I’d never held an oar. I felt very clumsy. “Goodbye, Nellie J. Banks,” I said. “God bless!”
“Don’t bother waving, they can’t see you,” said Nicole. “They must be glad to be rid of us, we’re toxic cargo.”
“They were nice,” I said.
“You think they’re not making big piles of money?”
The Nellie J. Banks was moving away from us. I hoped they’d have good luck.
I could feel the tide gripping the inflatable. Head in at an angle, Captain Mishimengo had said: cutting straight across the tide was dangerous, the inflatable could flip.
“Hold my flashlight,” Nicole said. She was fiddling with the buttons on the motor, using her right hand. The motor started. “This tide’s like a river.” We were indeed moving quickly. There were some lights on the shore to our left, very far away. It was cold, the kind of cold that goes right through all your clothing.
“Are we getting there?” I said after a while. “To the shore?”
“I hope so,” said Nicole. “Because if not, we’ll soon be back in Gilead.”
“We could jump overboard,” I said. We could not go back to Gilead, no matter what: they must have discovered by now that Nicole was missing, and had not gone with an Economan. We couldn’t betray Becka and all she had done for us. It would be better to die.
“Fucking hell,” said Nicole. “The motor just kakked.”
“Oh no,” I said. “Can you…”
“I’m trying. Shit and fuck!”
“What? What is it?” I had to raise my voice: the fog was all around us, and the sound of the water.