Page 40 of The Darkest Hour

For some reason, I began to think of the earlier sailors from centuries past, who believed the earth was flat and that at any moment they could sail off the edge into oblivion.

The horror they must have felt.

The fear of the unknown.

The terror of the endless horizon.

In some ways, our situation felt just as dire. There was no edge to fall off of, but the uncertainty of our fate was equally hair-raising.

I glanced over at Onyx.

She sat opposite me, her back straight despite the exhaustion that I knew she must have felt.

She had her gaze fixed on the dark horizon, surely scanning for any sign of hope.

Any hint of rescue.

Yet, even in this hopeless darkness, she remained a vision of beauty.

Still irresistibly captivating.

Earlier in the day, Onyx had been ready to kill me, yet here we were, side by side in this impossible situation.

Two unlikely partners tethered together.

The ocean cared not for our past rivalries or our deep-seated animosity.

It only wanted to swallow us up.

What will happen next?

I watched her in silence and imagined her thoughts were much like mine—wondering if we would face death from starvation or dehydration first, or be swallowed whole by a monstrous wave in the oncoming storm.

She held her arms tightly around her, probably attempting to suppress the chills that surely ran down her spine.

I bet her heart drummed hard in her chest.

Mine sure had been pumping out a battle tune.

But for now, the only sounds were our breathing within the threatening soundtrack of thunder in the sky and water sloshing against the boat’s sides.

However, despite everything—the endless night, the constant motion of the waves, the cold that seeped into my bones—I found myself grateful for Onyx’s presence.

The thought of facing this alone was unbearable.

At least for now all of the hopelessness of our situation seemed a little bit less daunting with Onyx beside me.

How odd that two strangers in shared desperation could find unexpected comfort?

Even more important, did she feel the same way?

I studied Onyx. “Are you okay?”

She didn't look my way. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon, and her voice lacked its usual strength or smart-assed-ness. “I'm fine.”

Perhaps it had been a dumb question to ask.

What could I do for her if she did have a problem?