“Val,” Jamie’s voice tiptoes to me. I avoid his eyes.

My tired hands have gone numb, but I can’t stop. I’ll stay here, pumping Wink’s chest, until my own chest stops. Wink’s still in there, and he won’t die alone, like Ba. I’m not a leaver. People can leave me, but I’ll never leave them when I’m still needed.

Jamie puts a hand on my arm, and I look up. But just then, the water churns up a playing card. The eight of spades. The card that changes the wind. Surely it’s a sign I must keep going.

With renewed vigor, I pump again.

At last, Wink coughs.

I gasp. “That’s it, Wink, that’s it.”

Jamie turns Wink on his side, and he spits out the briny, poisonous seawater. His eyes roll back in his head, but he’s alive. Hot tears paint warm stripes down my cheeks.

We help him to sitting, and soon he’s blinking and twitching and hurling out his guts. It is a blessed sight.

“We need to hurry. You ready to move, mate?” Jamie asks.

Wink nods, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I’m sorry.”

“None of that now.” I swim for the lifesaver, which is floating near the other bunk. Wink shrugs it over his head and arms, holding it weakly.

With the boat sinking from the bow, we’re forced to swim down Scotland Road toward the stern. Jamie takes the lead, doing a sidestroke with his good arm. The life belts keep us buoyed while we motor Wink along. Too tired to speak, I focus on kicking and not on the ceiling, which is only four feet above our heads. I also try to ignore the groans of metal coming from somewhere deep within the hull.

We’re like three rats being flushed down a sewer pipe.

Scotland Road stretches for an eternity. Wink clings to his lifesaver like an octopus to a clam, trying to keep his legs from bumping me as I ferry him along. The sprint leaves me gasping, and I slow to catch my breath.

Jamie takes over, grabbing Wink’s lifesaver with his good arm and pushing him ahead in fits and starts. When that becomes too awkward, Jamie flips onto his back. Resting his head on the edge of the lifesaver, he paddles his legs while gulping in air.

Jamie is slowing. The water is rising too quickly, and with no end in sight, we aren’t going to make it.