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He’d been extra snappy recently. He didn’t mean to yell at them, but it’s not like they understood. John B sprawled out on the decking of the boat, gazing up at the stars. He let the ocean’s waves lull him to relax. He always felt closer to his dad when he was out in the ocean. The boy knew something was fishy about his father’s disappearance; the other pogues were sympathetic at first, but they came to challenge John B’s suspicions.
“Pogues for life, huh?” he scoffed, allowing his aching eyes to finally close to the sound of the overleaping waves and the low hum of wind.
* * *
“We should go see if he’s alright,” sighed Kiara, guiltily.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Pope. “He needs to blow off some steam, we should give him some space.”
Kiara exhaled, rubbing the goosebumps from her arms. “It’s really windy out,” she frowned. “Is there a storm coming?”
“And we only just cleaned up the place from the last one,” JJ mumbled before sipping from his can.
“We should head inside,” suggested Pope, rising from the garden chair; the others followed suit.
* * *
John B woke up in a panic.
As deep of a sleeper as he was, the impressively violent slashes of wind made sleep impossible. Rain plummeted onto his face. His cheeks were numb with cold. Fumbling to his feet, the boy cursed - muffled by the deafening rumble of thunder. Malevolent waves tossed the boat relentlessly, sending John B into one of the side walls. He let out a strained groan, fighting the malicious gusts that cut him down repeatedly. As soon as he got to his feet again, the boat was jolted sideways, sending the teenager flying overboard.
The ocean was far colder than he expected. It was an absolute black abyss. Even John B, an experienced swimmer, was helpless to the unforgiving waves that mercilessly pushed him deeper. John B fought to the surface, again and again, only to be forced back down. His body grew weak with gnawing, bitter cold. A consuming numbness was spreading across his limbs, targeting his submerged lower half first.
There was a point when John B stopped fighting. Everything seemed futile. Every time he swallowed a lungful of air, the salty sea would force itself down his throat, burning. He let his searing muscles stop thrashing. He let the ocean take its prize, its vulnerable prey. And even though the boy was gradually dying, his system slowly shutting down, all he could think about was his family.
“I didn’t even get to apologise,” he thought before he couldn’t think at all.
* * *
Kiara was the first to wake. She rubbed her bleary eyes before giving into a long stretch. Taking a moment to gaze upon her snoring friends, Kiara sighed and decided to wake them.
“Hey, JJ, Pope!” she called, shaking them both.
The pair groaned, burying themselves into their layers of wool blankets as they nestled into the sofa.
“Wake up, idiots.”
“...What time is it?” yawned Pope, rising into a sitting position.
“10 AM,” she told him, running a hand through her hair. “If we wanna hit the beach before noon then you gotta get yourself up and ready.”
JJ rolled over with a grunt, shielding his eyes from the beaming sunshine streaking through a gap between the curtains. Eventually, he managed to heave himself up, trudging toward the bathroom and muttering to himself.
Kiara ran a brush through her hair, quickly slipping on her change of clothes. Pope and JJ emerged back into the room, both now awake and ready to go.
* * *
The sun was warm on their backs, the brilliant blue sky utterly clear after the night’s rampage. Even the golden sand was warm under their bare feet; the salty beach aroma was welcomed into their nostrils.
“Hey, what is going on over there?” asked Kiara, pointing to a swarm of people gathered farther down the beach.
“Is that the deputy?” Pope squinted against the blinding sun.
The three of them got closer. They fought to see past the wall of humans until they saw police tape and policemen keeping the population at bay. JJ squeezed through the cluster, freezing at the sight. His body went rigid.
“JJ?” called Kiara with a tint of concern. “What is it?”
She managed to slip through a gap, her eyes widening. Pope saw it now, too. John B’s boat. Battered and worn, laying pitifully on its wrecked side on the sand.
“Oh, shit…” JJ managed, pulling at his blonde locks.
And then he was running. Running toward John B’s home, desperately hoping this was all a misunderstanding. Hoping John B really wasn’t out on that boat in the midst of the storm. Calling his name, a tearful Kiara and a panicked Pope followed closely behind.
They shouted for him, checking every nook and cranny. John B wasn’t home, and that could only mean one thing.
“No, no, no, no, no!” roared JJ, driving his fist against the wall.
“We have to find him!” cried Kiara, sobs fragmenting her words. “We have to go and search-!”
“He’s dead, Kie!” snapped JJ, his clenched fists shaking at his sides. His face was red with anger, tears threatening to spill. “He’s dead. And what we were doing? Watching funny movies and drinking whilst our boy was out there dying.”
“Calm down, man,” said Pope.
“Calm down?” he yelled back, striking the wall again. “How can I be calm when we killed JB!”
“We don’t know if he’s dead or alive!” protested Pope.
“What, so you think all those officers were there just for a boat washing up on the beach?” scoffed JJ. “John B probably washed up somewhere nearby-”
“Stop it!” screamed Kiara, clutching her throbbing chest. “Please, stop…”
JJ let out a tremulous sigh, “I’m sorry, Kie.”
“Let’s go back,” she suggested, wiping the tears off of her face. “W- We can talk to an officer, and… and we will find John B.”
JJ and Pope offered no resistance to this idea.
The journey back to the beach was silent. None of them could believe that John B was dead. It just wasn’t true. John B always survived. He always fought and came out on top. Nobody expected him to lose.
When they finally got back, the officers were trying to clear the area of curious passersby, the yellow caution tape clearly not enough warning.
Kiara sprinted towards a familiar face, the deputy.
“Sheriff Peterkin!” she called out, her voice shaky and fragile.
The woman turned to look at her, a fleeting moment of surprise became sorrow in an instant.
“Kids, you’re not allowed to be here,” she told them, sympathy vivid in her tone.
“Where is he?” demanded JJ, trembling.
She sighed, checking none of her subordinates were close by. “I’m not supposed to tell you kids this, but…”
Pope heard his heart drumming loudly in his ears.
“But we haven’t found John B yet,” she sighed. “He’s presumed dead with the state of his boat, we’ve got a search party out, but don’t get your hopes up - I’m sorry.”
Kiara’s knees buckled. It felt like all of her hopes had been shattered. JJ swore, kicking the sand at his feet.
“If there’s no body, there’s a chance he’s alive,” bleated Pope. “Please, tell us as soon as you find anything.”
“I will, but for now-” the radio clipped to her torso suddenly sputtered to life, a burst of static sounded before a man’s voice came through.
“We found the boy,” the voice alerted; Kiara’s heart skipped a beat. “He’s not responding, but we have a weak pulse. I’m no expert, but from my experience as a coastguard, we’re looking at pneumonia and hypothermia. He doesn’t have long left if we don’t get him warmed up.
“We’re sending him to the nearest hospital via air ambulance, over.”
The feeling in JJ’s legs gave out, he found himself gazing down at the shingle and sand in relief. John B was still alive. He could still make it.
“We have to go to that hospital, now!” cried Kiara.
The deputy nodded, her expression changing from pity to determination within seconds. “I’ll drive us there.”
* * *
He was drifting in and out of consciousness. His body felt heavy and numb all the same. He knew he was cold. Breathing was difficult like his lungs were already full. Shallow breaths. With each one, John B could feel a sharp stabbing in his chest. Muffled voices were trodden over by the ringing in his ears. Was this what dying felt like?
Honestly, the boy thought he’d already crossed that bridge. If he hadn’t been washed up onto a large, slippery rock that might’ve been it for him. For what felt like hours, he’d clung to the wet surface, the vicious waves still attacking the base, desperate to finish what they started. And then at some point, everything went blank.
Where was he? It wasn’t dark anymore. Everything was hazy and bright white. He was moving. Things went dark again. He didn’t want to be back in the darkness. He fought to stay awake but even to draw the shallowest breath was agony now. At least in the darkness, he wouldn’t have to feel anything. Would it make him a coward if he let it take him? He wondered as his vision began to dissipate.
“I guess I am a coward,” he mumbled, unsure if he had said it aloud or in his head.
* * *
Eight hours. The ticking of the clock on the dull walls made sure to remind them. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. With each second, their friend was fighting for his life and they could do nothing but wait.
Kiara rocked slowly, knees pulling into her chest as she sat in the waiting room. Beside her was an anxious Pope, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. Then there was JJ. He couldn’t sit still. He paced the waiting room, tugging at his hair, cursing under his breath.
“If we had just gone after him, none of this would’ve happened,” whispered Kiara.
“There’s no changing the past, Kie,” grimaced Pope, reluctantly placing a hand over hers for a brief moment. “We just have to wait.”
“I’m done waiting!” snapped JJ, collapsing against the wall.
Another buzz rang from Kiara’s phone. She’d been ignoring her parent’s calls since last night. They’d make her go home, tell her she needed rest. But this wasn’t about her, this was John B. She wouldn’t leave, not until she knew that he was okay. If he was okay.
JJ stalked toward the door.
“Where are you going?” asked Pope.
“Bathroom,” he called over his shoulder.
The bathroom is where he planned on going. That is until he saw the deputy talking to a nurse in the middle of the corridor. He took cover round the corner, eavesdropping.
“He’s stable for now, but we don’t know if he’ll make it through the night,” the nurse explained. “We had to restart his heart twice already; he’s at high risk of cardiac arrest.”
Hearing her words was like a dagger to his heart. We don’t know if he’ll make it through the night.
“I doubt he’ll wake up soon, if he does wake up that is,” she continued. “He’s on some effective drugs that should keep him unconscious for a good while.”
“Is he allowed visitors?” the deputy asked.
“Family only, visiting hours end shortly, though, so if there are visitors they’ll have to be quick,” the nurse informed.
JJ didn’t stick around to hear the final words between the two. He hurried back to the waiting room, exasperated by the time he got there.
“JJ?” frowned Pope.
“He’s alive,” was all he could say. “He’s alive.”
Pope could’ve cried his heart out right there. Hearing those words was such a weight lifted from his shoulders. John B was alive.
“Can we see him!?” burst Kiara, on her feet now.
“It’s family only,” the deputy said before JJ could, appearing behind him.
“But he doesn’t-”
“I know,” she reassured. “That’s why I’m breaking all the rules today. Follow me.”
The three of them exchanged hopeful glances before rushing after the woman. She led them down the hallway until they reached room 47b.
“He isn’t awake right now,” she told them, her hand hovering over the door handle. “And I don’t want to upset you, but the doctors don’t know if he’ll survive the night.”
They all nodded. They didn’t care about anything else right now. All they wanted was to see their friend.
The deputy eased the door open, and they slipped inside. She smiled weakly before closing the door behind them, providing the pogues with well-deserved privacy.
JJ’s stomach churned at the sight of his friend on that bed. He was hooked up to so many machines and contraptions; there were transparent tubes feeding in and out of his arms and nose; there were several bandages wrapped around his pale body. His skin almost looked blue with how pale it was. He looked dead.
Kiara rushed to the unconscious boy’s side as a sob tore from her chest. She fell to her knees at his side, clutching one of his limp, icy hands.
“John B,” she whimpered. “I am so, so sorry…”
JJ cursed. Seeing John B so small and vulnerable made his heart ache painfully. He wished he could do something to take away the pain. “You’ll make it through this, man,” he whispered, joining Kiara at his bedside.
Pope couldn’t stop the tears now. None of them could.
“Wh- Why are you all crying?” a weak voice strained to ask. It was so fragile and small that Kiara wondered if she’d heard anything at all.
“JB?” gasped JJ.
John B’s eyes opened slightly, narrow slits as if any wider would be too much effort. He tried to smile up at his friends. “I.. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” laughed Kiara as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, she tightened her grip on his freezing-cold hand. “God, you’re an idiot, John B.”
“I wanted to say that,” he breathed, so quiet that they all leaned in to hear. “Because I don’t know if I’ll make it.”
“Of course you’re gonna make it!” yelled JJ, slamming his fist down onto the edge of the hospital bed. “Don’t even say that, alright?”
“Okay,” he replied weakly, unbelieving.
John B felt his friends hold him close in a tight embrace, their warmth heavenly. He felt himself drifting away again like the current had calmed. John B was grateful that he wasn’t alone anymore. The darkness wasn’t so scary now.