Alex finally came out, giving me a nod to indicate we were leaving. I hurried behind him, and we boarded our boat. I stole sidelong glances at him, trying to read his inscrutable expression, but he refused to meet my inquisitive looks - no doubt aware of the questions burning in my mind that he didn't want to address.
We hadn't gone far when the skies opened up in a furious downpour, the waters becoming dangerously choppy as powerful gusts of wind lashed the small boat. I thought I was going to die, so I began saying silent prayers, making my peace in case the worst happened. When I managed to lift my eyes, I saw Alex looking remarkably composed. How could he not feel any fear? Did he have such little regard for his own life?
"We're gonna have to pull in somewhere and wait this one
