Fight the Tide
About
Fight the Tide
Adrift in a post-apocalyptic world, they only have each other. Is it enough?
A virus that turns the infected into zombie-like killers spreads through a burning world thrown into lawless chaos. Lovers Parker and Adam have escaped to the open sea when they hear a message over the airwaves from a place called Salvation Island—a supposed safe haven.
Orphaned as a child, werewolf Adam has always longed for a pack. He’s eager to investigate the island, but Parker doesn’t think for a nanosecond that the voice on the radio can be believed. He doesn’t trust anyone but Adam and is determined to keep it that way. They don’t need anyone else complicating their struggle to survive. Or do they?
Danger on the high seas can surface in a heartbeat, and if Parker and Adam aren’t careful, the current will drag them under.
BY
K
EIRA
A
NDREWS
Fight the Tide
Written and published by Keira Andrews
Cover by
Dar Albert
Copyright © 2016 by Keira Andrews
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 978-1-988260-06-8
Kindle Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. No persons, living or dead, were harmed by the writing of this book. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Thanks so much to my wonderful friends and beta readers Rachel, Anne-Marie, Jules, Becky, and Jay. I couldn’t do it without you!
To the wonderful readers who asked for more of Parker and Adam’s journey. <3
S
alvation called as
dawn whispered along the unbroken horizon.
The voice from the radio beyond the cabin held Adam rigid where he knelt on the bed, staring out the horizontal porthole as the sailboat rocked gently. He looked over his shoulder at Parker sprawled on the mattress on his belly, his lips parted as he murmured in his sleep, the sheet tangled around his bare, lean hips.
“—here. All are welcome. Join us as we build a new home. We can be found on this—”
Static burst from the radio as it automatically switched to the next frequency, and Adam scrambled off the mattress to fiddle with the radio’s settings.
They’d programmed it to scan at ten-second intervals, keeping the volume down so the static was white noise that didn’t bother Adam, even with his acute hearing. But after the warmth of the woman’s voice, the crackling set him on edge, his fangs pressing for release.
He jabbed the button to scan back, goosebumps sweeping over his skin. But there was only more static. Exhaling, Adam peered at the radio’s green-lit dashboard as if he could will the voice into existence again. He switched off the auto-scan and waited, glancing back at Parker and turning up the volume a bit.
Their queen-sized bed was in the cabin at the front—no, the bow—of the sailboat, taking up the whole space but for maybe a foot on either side near the bottom of the bed. Adam’s motorcycle, Mariah, was wedged into the other cabin at the stern.
Parker’s dark-blond hair stood up in clumps, and Adam’s fingers itched to smooth it down. Or to grab his little digital camera and start filming, even though he’d taken a few minutes of Parker mumbling in his sleep the other morning, his hair mussed in ridiculous spikes, the little moles on his pale neck stark in the early light.
Not that there was any point in filming footage at all, let alone a repeat of Parker sleeping. Adam imagined being back in the editing studio in the basement of one of the arts buildings on campus. The musty concrete and tile, rows of private editing bays off the hallway with multiple screens and a control board of the latest equipment, everything digital now. No windows, and time had passed in huge slices.
He’d forget to eat—forget everything else but cutting the footage together, fixing the audio and making it perfect. Making it permanent.
Real
. There was nothing else waiting for him outside that box of a room and building. Aside from Tina, the first real friend he’d ever made, there was only his camera and his footage, observing life around him without touching. He’d held his TA office hours twice a week, and had usually spent them alone. Until the day Parker had marched in.
Parker rolled over and muttered, never able to bite his tongue in sleep either. Smiling, Adam took a quick minute of footage before tucking his camera back away. The battery was super long-lasting, but it wouldn’t hold out forever. And even if it did, there would be no more documentaries. That part of his life was over—that part of the world. But Parker was here, and he was real.
Adam fiddled with the radio. Maybe he’d imagined the voice. Aside from the odd message and conversation between survivors, there was nothing out there but hissing static. The automated emergency messages from the Coast Guard had ceased broadcasting the week before as Parker and Adam had sailed down the coast after leaving Provincetown.
Smacking his lips, Parker mumbled something about peanut butter. It was hard to fathom that it’d only been a couple of months since Parker had appeared at Adam’s office demanding a better grade. Adam wouldn’t have believed that entitled rich kid was going to change everything. Sure, the virus had changed everyone’s lives, but Parker’s impact was just as enormous for Adam.
Despite the horror, the world was a strange, wonderful place.
Parker shifted restlessly, exposing a round ass cheek. Naked, Adam tugged idly on his dick for a few seconds, stretching his foreskin and sending faint tingles over his skin as he thought about licking that skin and dipping his tongue into the shadowed crevice.
Hard to believe Parker was actually still a teenager. Adam sometimes thought he should feel guilty about that although he was only twenty-three himself. But this strange, wonderful, terrifying new world had new rules, and they were a million miles from Stanford and its code of conduct.
They’d covered many of those miles riding Mariah, getting out of California and crossing the desert, traveling into the mountains that split the country, an oasis appearing from the thin air in Colorado.
The memory of waking on a narrow cot under fluorescent lights filled his mind. The only other wolf he’d met aside from his family had betrayed him, and the bruises had gone deep.
He struggled to forget what had happened at the Pines—the powerlessness and terror, made better only by Parker’s presence, his hand brushing back Adam’s hair, voice shaky but determined. Stumbling out of the lab, not going to make it. Telling Parker to leave without him.
“Oh my God, shut the fuck up and run!”
In the darkness, Adam’s smile let him breathe a little easier, and he crawled back to bed, pressing a kiss to Parker’s shoulder, tasting the faint tang of sweat-salt.
The older woman’s voice returned. “This is Salvation Island. We are twenty-nine point-nine-six-five-three degrees north and seventy-eight point-zero-eight-five-seven degrees west.”
“What the fuck?” Parker pushed himself up on one hand, his shoulder blade connecting with Adam’s nose.
“Ow. Shh.” Adam listened intently, rubbing his nose absently, his mouth going dry.
“We have plentiful food and water. We are free from infection and violence. It is safe here. All are welcome. Join us as we build a new home. This is Salvation Island. It is November seventh.”
Low static filled the void as Parker asked, “What did she say? Who was that?”
“I’m not sure.” Excitement thrummed through him, something about the woman’s calm voice plucking a string that vibrated deeply within.
Parker’s breath whistled faintly in his nose, his heart tapping out a staccato, too-quick rhythm that echoed in Adam’s ears. Adam leaned against the pillows of their wide bed, pulling him back to sit between his legs. He smoothed his palm over Parker’s chest.
If Adam’s own heart drummed too sharply too, Parker didn’t need to know.
“What did she say?” Parker whispered. “Something about an island? I thought I was dreaming.”
“Salvation Island. She said it’s safe there.”
Water splashed gently against the
Bella Luna
’s hull. A gull cawed hungrily, soon joined by another. The sparse hair on Parker’s chest tickled Adam’s hand as he rubbed slowly.
When the woman spoke again, Parker clambered off the end of the bed. Adam followed as Parker cranked up the radio volume. The woman spoke again, giving the same message and date.
As she finished, Parker stood there naked, his hair still sweetly sleep rumpled and brown eyes wide, staring at the radio, which was tucked into a control panel above a padded bench outside their sleeping cabin.
“Wow, do you think…?” He breathed rapidly, mouth working. “That recording is from today. It’s new.”
“It is.”
“Maybe it could…” Parker raked a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. “But there’s no way. Right?”
Adam ran his hand over Parker’s head and down his back. “We know there are more survivors out there. Maybe it’s a good idea to band together.”
“But they’re not safe.” Parker leaned into him, his breath a warm gust on Adam’s neck. “No one’s safe.”
The woman’s voice had been so calming, though. It still echoed through him, smoothing jagged edges like water over rocks. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“Don’t we?” Sighing, Parker stepped away and rubbed his face. “It has to be a total trap.”
“We don’t
know
that.”
“Sure we do.” Parker snorted cynically. “How could it be anything else?”
“Her voice just sounds so…soothing.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Totally, she sounds like my mom reading me a bedtime story. Super soothing. And guess what? Next thing we know she’s hypnotized us or some shit.” He flicked off the radio with a snap of his wrist. “Then it’s all downhill from there.”
Adam had to laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re a drama queen.”
Clearly fighting a losing battle not to smile, Parker shook his head, sputtering, which only made him more adorable. “Dude, you were a cinema major. Don’t tell me you never watched zombie movies. The message on the radio calling people to a safe haven? It’s always evildoers. Every. Single. Time.” His smile vanished, a tremble rippling through him. “And you remember what happened at the Pines.”
White light, helpless.
“I know.” He drew Parker close, nuzzling his cheek. Some nights, Parker woke sweating and wild-eyed, his nightmares of the things Adam couldn’t remember rocking him with tremors that lasted until morning.
“Adam, we’re not going near this place and its bullshit bedtime stories.”
Hope still tugged, low and insistent. “But what if they’re on the up and up?”
Parker stepped away with a brittle smile. “Then great. I wish them all the best and many happy returns in building their little community. And when it all goes to shit, we’ll be hundreds of miles away. Safe and sound.”
And alone.
The woman’s voice echoed, like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Parker had good reason to be afraid, and he was probably right that they should give Salvation Island a wide berth. But still…
“We have an advantage they won’t expect since I’m a werewolf.”
“Yeah, because that turned out really well at the Pines. No. It’s too risky.”
“How far away are we? Just out of curiosity.”
Parker shot him a skeptical look, but switched on a light and padded over to the map spread on the dining table in the main area of the boat, which he referred to as the “saloon.” There was a little kitchen outside their cabin, and a shower and toilet (or “head,” as Parker insisted) on the starboard side. Soon the sun would beam through durable skylights that gave the saloon an impressive amount of natural light during the day.
It was remarkably spacious, with almost a half foot of clearance above Adam when he stood. Still, as the days ticked by, the boat seemed more cramped. He loved being with Parker, but would this be their life? He missed the solid ground beneath his boots, the purr of Mariah’s engine, the open road.