WATER SPLASH : MERMAID ADVENTURE

QUEEN MARABELLA ISLAND(8)

CHAPTER EIGHT

By the time they reached the shore, the sun had slid lower, streaking the water in copper and violet. The two speedboats bobbed gently in the tide.

Elina waded ankle-deep, toolbox balanced in her grip, and pulled herself onto Beyoncé and Miranda’s vessel. She crouched by the engine compartment, her hands moving with practiced ease as she tugged wires and checked fittings.

“Anything?” Monica called, shading her eyes against the dying light.

Elina didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic slap of waves. Finally, she straightened, wiping her palms on her shorts. “Not good,” she said flatly. “Starter’s dead. And if I’m honest, it looks like it’s been tampered with.”

Beyoncé and Miranda exchanged a startled glance. “That’s strange,” Miranda murmured, her voice tight. “It was fine when we came.”

Monica frowned at her phone again, frustration etched across her face. “Still no signal. Not a single bar.”

The air felt heavier now, the kind that made time seem to move faster than it really was.

Miranda rubbed her forehead, pacing a short line near the stranded speedboat. “This is bad,” she muttered, voice tight. “My dad is going to lose it when he finds out. He warned me not to come this far, and now…” She gestured helplessly at the dead vessel. “Three hours already, and nothing.”

Beyoncé reached for her arm, trying to soothe her. “We’ll figure it out. At least they’re here with us now, it’s not like we’re completely stranded anymore.” She gave the others a small, nervous smile.

Clara hugged her knees where she sat in the sand, her gaze shifting from the stranded boat to the horizon. It was beautiful, yes, but something about the stillness made her feel out of place, like the island was watching them.

Elina stood by the broken speedboat, silent until now. Her eyes traced its worn edges, her hand running across the cold surface of the hull. She was calculating, weighing options. Then, with a decisive inhale, she stepped back and faced the group.

“Here’s the problem,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “The speedboat can’t tow this one and carry all six of us. Too much weight, it’ll drag us under or snap the towline. The best option is two passengers with me back to the port. I’ll come back for the rest. Safe, steady, no risks.”

Silence followed Elina’s words, broken only by the soft hiss of the tide. Beyoncé exhaled sharply, already stepping closer to the boat. “Then I’m going. I can’t sit here all night waiting for rescue.”

Miranda glanced at her, then at the others, her brows knitting. “Yeah… my dad’s going to kill me if he finds out the boat’s dead. I should probably go too.”

Elina gave a short nod. “Alright. That makes two.”

Clara shifted uneasily, watching them climb aboard. The knot in her stomach pulled tighter. “But… what if three went? Wouldn’t that be better?”

Elina turned, one eyebrow arched. “You sure about that? Ready to run off and leave your friends behind?” A teasing lilt colored her voice. “Didn’t think so.”

The tension broke in a wave of laughter. Monica nudged Clara’s shoulder, Annalise smirked, even Beyoncé snorted under her breath.

But Miranda’s gaze lingered on Clara, steady and unreadable. “Then let Clara take my place,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay with the others.”

Clara froze, caught off guard by the strange intensity in Miranda’s eyes.

Elina gave a low whistle, shaking her head as she checked the towline. “Well, look at that. A knight ready to sacrifice herself. Careful, Clara, you’re collecting rescues like seashells today.”

Wave of laughter followed, but Miranda’s expression softened only slightly, her eyes still on Clara as if expecting an answer.

Clara shook her head quickly, forcing a small, uneasy smile. “No… I’ll stay with them.”

The words came out steadier than she felt. As she turned toward the tree line, her smile slipped. The shadows between the palms stretched long and dark, and for a heartbeat she was certain something was watching from within. She hugged her arms close, shivering despite the warmth.

Elina crouched, checking the towline again, her focus settling back into the task at hand. The sun was already slipping lower, streaking the horizon in copper and violet.

“Alright,” she said, tightening the knot. “First trip’s set. The rest of you stay put, don’t wander. We’ll be back before it’s dark.” Elina, unfazed, climbed into the driver’s seat. “Alright then. Let’s get this moving.” She twisted the key in the ignition.

The engine coughed. Spluttered. Then fell silent.

Elina frowned and tried again, her usual confidence dimming. The motor gave the same feeble response, nothing more than a groan before choking out.

“Relax,” Elina muttered, giving the throttle a sharper push. The engine stuttered once, then went dead still.

For a moment, only the hiss of waves filled the silence.

Clara’s eyes darted back toward the forest edge. That feeling again, something unseen, pressing closer.

Elina twisted the key again, harder this time. The engine whined, sputtered, then died completely. A muscle jumped in her jaw as she shoved the throttle forward and tried once more. Nothing.

Clara’s stomach sank. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought Zayan fixed it?”

Annalise let out a sharp, humorless laugh, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “Fixed it? Please. Zayan doesn’t fix anything unless it benefits him. Wouldn’t surprise me if he set it up to fail just to mess with us.” Her tone dripped with bitterness, every word pressing on the air like a warning.

Elina’s knuckles whitened on the wheel as she sat back, exhaling through her teeth. She gave the ignition one more twist, but the silence that followed was final. She cursed under her breath, shaking her head.

“Great. Just great.” She yanked her phone from her pocket, flicking it on with a decisive swipe. Her frown deepened almost instantly. “No bars. Not even a flicker.” She angled the phone toward the sky, as if sheer force could will the signal into existence, then dropped it back into her lap with a groan.

Her composure cracked for the first time, frustration raw in her voice. “This is ridiculous. Today of all days? No one’s working the docks, Coast Guard isn’t even on call, and now this? We’re stuck unless I figure something out fast.”

Elina tried the ignition again, the engine giving nothing but a hollow cough before dying altogether. The silence that followed pressed on them heavier than the humid air.

Beyoncé exchanged a quick look with Miranda, her jaw tightening. “Great. First ours, now yours?” she muttered, half under her breath.

Miranda rubbed her temples, sinking onto the sand. “My dad’s going to kill me,” she whispered.

Annalise forced a small laugh, though her eyes betrayed unease. She flicked her phone on, stared at the screen, then sighed. “No bars here either. Totally dead.”

Elina blew out a breath and shoved her hair back from her face. “Alright,” she muttered, crouching beside the engine. She pulled the cover open, hands steady but movements quick, checking fuel lines, connections, the battery. “Fuel line’s clean… spark plugs are fine… battery isn’t corroded…” Her voice dropped lower with each finding, her frown deepening.

Clara lingered behind her, hugging her elbows. Each time Elina’s tools clicked against metal, her stomach knotted tighter. She wanted desperately for the sound of the engine to roar back to life, but it didn’t.

Finally, Elina straightened, grease on her fingers, frustration clouding her usually sharp expression. “This doesn’t make sense. Mechanically, there’s nothing wrong. It should be running.”

Annalise crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. “Two engines failing on the same day, on the same island? That’s not chance. That’s… something else.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy. Nobody rushed to fill the silence. Even the waves seemed to hush against the shore, as though the island itself was listening.

Elina wiped her hands on her shorts, exhaling through her nose as if steadying herself. “Okay. If we can’t get either engine running, we need a plan. Sitting here waiting for a miracle isn’t an option.”

Beyoncé’s arms tightened around herself. “You mean… we’re stuck?”

“Not stuck,” Elina said quickly, though her jaw was tight. “Just… limited.” She tapped the speedboat’s side with her knuckles, thinking aloud. “We can try again at first light. Engines sometimes… behave differently after cooling down. And if that fails, we’ll have to signal someone from the port. Flares, smoke, reflective surfaces. Boats pass these waters all the time.”

Monica leaned in, her tone trying to stay upbeat. “So we wait it out? Make camp?”

Elina gave a small nod. “That’s the safest option. Moving in the dark, with no signal and two dead boats? That’s asking for trouble.”

Clara swallowed hard, her gaze drifting to the darkening tree line. The shadows stretched long and sharp across the sand, and for a heartbeat she thought she saw something shift between them. She blinked, but the movement was gone.

Elina’s eyes softened when she caught the look on Clara’s face. “Hey. It’s just a night. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”

But Clara wasn’t sure if she believed her.

Annalise’s head snapped toward her, incredulous. “You’re joking, right? I’m not spending the night on this cursed rock. We came here for fun, not to play stranded survivors.”

Monica raised her brows but didn’t disagree.

Miranda, who had been quiet until now, shifted uneasily. “There might be another way. When Clara almost slipped earlier, I got a bar of signal up there. It flashed, just for a second. Then it was gone.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“So you’re saying,” Annalise said, folding her arms, “we look for higher ground. See if we can find a spot where the signal holds?”

Miranda nodded. “It’s worth a try. Better than sitting here waiting for a miracle.”

Elina dragged a hand through her hair, clearly torn. “If we split up or wander too far into the island at dusk, it’ll be dangerous. But… if there’s even a chance, I guess we don’t have much choice.”

Clara’s gaze darted again to the tree line, the unease in her chest tightening. The idea of walking deeper into the island made her stomach churn, but the thought of being left here overnight felt even worse.