That first night there was just the second-to-second scramble to survive stretching time and sucking it down the distorted vortex of trauma. Only in the morning did the women speak.

“I hate you,” Molly said.

“Yeah, okay,” Charlotte said.

“You are literally the worst.”

“Okie doke. Can you grab that first aid kit over there? This cut on my head is flapping around like an unlatched shutter in a hurricane.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yep. And it freaking hurts. Can you help me please?”

Molly stared at her wife in the still murky predawn. Charlotte’s face was half-masked by a dark coat of blood.

“Are you still bleeding?”

Charlotte reached a hand up to her hairline. “Yep. Spurting like a geyser.”

“Fuck babe. That’s a lot of blood.” Molly grabbed the tin box Charlotte pointed out, its contents rattling obscenely in the lull of the lifeboat on the post-storm sea. It took a moment to flip the latch.

“I can use this gauze to wrap it,” Molly said, her hands trembling as she lifted the roll out of the box.

“Yeah, but you got to clean it out first. Wait—”

“Move your hand. We got to stop the bleeding.”

“Ow! No!”

“Get back over here. Just hold—”

“You’re trapping all the dirt inside. It’ll get infected.”

“Babes. Seriously? Stay still. You have to stop the bleeding first.”

“Okay. Ouch! What are you doing? You have to press it—”

“I know how to hold pressure on a wound. I’m the one who’s first aid certified. Remember? Now hold still so I can get the gauze tight around—”

“You took that class like fifteen years ago! You’re hurting me!”

“Good.”

“Good? That’s so—OW OW OWEE—”

“Done. That should hold.”

Charlotte explored the thick gauze headdress with halting fingers. Light reached into the world from a rim of sun stretching over one spit of the horizon and Molly could now see a blot of red spreading on the unblemished white. Then it stopped.

“I don’t think you’re bleeding anymore,” she said. “Stop touching the bandage. You’ll mess it up.”

“Wow babes. You did such an awesome job with this.”

“Yeah. I know,” Molly said but Charlotte missed her wife’s provoked expression because she’d turned away to watch the sun.

After, when the red gold of new light drenched the lifeboat in technicolor precision, Charlotte held up a bottle of water in triumph.

“How amazing were we for remembering to keep the emergency supplies stocked and ready!”

“Are you serious? There’s only six bottles there. Sixteen-ounce ones! What’s that going to get us through? Two days? Maybe? It’s mid-September in the Caribbean. We have no shade. If another storm doesn’t kill us we’re going to die out here of exposure. We’re completely and utterly fucked!”

“Babes.” Charlotte looked deranged with dried blood covering half her face like a schlocky zombie movie extra. “Stop being so negative. Did you even see that amazing sunrise? Over the water? We had front row seats!”

“The sunrise! Are you…the sunrise? Oh my god. You are completely psychotic.”

“Oh come on! You know what, I swear you’ve had the worst attitude about this trip from the very beginning. You never even gave it a chance.”

“Because I knew this was exactly what was going to happen! Start an around the world sailing trip in the middle of hurricane season! Just like when you thought it would be a great idea to continue hiking across a prairie in Wyoming during a thunderstorm or go blueberry picking on that island full of grizzlies in Alaska or go down that abandoned mine shaft in New Mexico—”

“I’ve apologized like a hundred—”

“Actually. You’re right. You’re not psychotic. I’m the insane maniac who keeps going along with all your bullshit year after year. I’m the one who needs to get my fucking head examined!”

“Okay. Great. Thank you for that. Are you finished? Do you feel better? Would you like some water now?”

“No!”

Molly slapped away the open water bottle Charlotte reached out to her, sending it rolling across the lifeboat, its precious contents sloshing into the sludgy mix of dirt, sea, and rain at their feet. Charlotte yelped and retrieved it, still half-full, and raised it again, triumphantly, as Molly said, “What I want is a divorce.”

“What?”

The compromised water bottle descended in degrees to match Charlotte’s falling face.

“I want a divorce. I’m done. It’s over.”

“Babes.”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t do this anymore. I’m completely miserable. I’m out.”

“I don’t think this is the right time—”

“This is exactly the right time. This is it. I’m finished.”

The water bottle tipped absently in Charlotte’s hand as she cast about the endless horizon line behind Molly’s head, spilling the rest of its contents down her leg. Molly sat staring out at a point on the opposite endless horizon line just to the right of Charlotte’s blood drenched ear, arms crossed. The sun was already starting to heat every surface with a searing burn.

“Okay,” Charlotte said, squeezing the water bottle until it crunched. “Can we please just get through this for now and talk about this later?”

“Sure,” Molly said, shaking her head, still not looking at Charlotte, the sea and sky blurring under her gaze.

“Okay. Great. Oh shit, I spilled the water. Good thing there’s more! You want one?”

       “No.”

“Okay, me neither. I can wait. Not even that thirsty! Now let’s see. Do you see any land around here anywhere? We have some paddles, or at least one. Here we go. One paddle. So let’s look for a minute. Anything anywhere look promising?”

But when the two women looked they couldn’t see anything at all.

By midday Molly was vomiting. Charlotte had tried to get her to drink water, even a sip, but Molly kept her arms crossed and her back against the lifeboat’s side, unmoving, as the vicious sun drew out every drop of liquid inside her. Her face was red and dry now, her breathing short and ragged between heaves.

“Babes, look at me! You have to drink something. You’re overheating. You’re not even sweating anymore. Hey. Hey! Keep your eyes open. Here.” Charlotte took the second to last water bottle and ripped open the cap. The other four empty bottles, three of which she’d consumed already under Molly’s hot, hostile glare, scuttled under her feet as she shuffled closer to her wife. “Here. Keep your head up. Just take a few sips. Yeah, yeah. Like that. That’s good.”

Most of the water poured down Molly’s chin but Charlotte managed to get in about a quarter bottle before Molly started to sputter and cough. Then she slumped over and slid to the bottom of the boat.

“Babes!” Charlotte screamed. The ocean was sickly still but the lifeboat rolled wildly as Charlotte thrashed around trying to pull Molly back up. “Come on. Come on. Hang in there. Don’t do this right now. We’re going to make it. Just need to get you a little cooled down. Here.” She poured the rest of the water over Molly’s unconscious face and then leaned far over the side of the boat until it was tilted dangerously close enough to scoop up the sea. The boat slammed back and forth, back and forth, taking on sea water until Molly lay in a briny lake surrounded by an unlucky selection of needlefish. Charlotte kept her head afloat.

“That’s better. That’ll cool you right down. Hopefully. The water’s almost cold compared to the air! Oh! And look at these cool fish. Slippery little fellas. Hard to catch. Might be good to eat if we get really hungry. Right? Oh! Look at that. One got stuck in a water bottle. That’s how we’ll catch them. See? I told you we’d be fine. We still have one bottle of water left and tons of fish to eat. All the fish in the sea! Right? Right babes?”

Charlotte wasn’t sure but Molly might have moaned.

“Yeah! And we can figure out how to rig up something to really fish with. You’re always so good at that. Like maybe use this plastic bag floating around—oops! Have to try to get that next time it comes by. Like use that and maybe the life ring attached to the back of the boat. There is a life ring attached to the back of the boat, right? Can’t really turn around to look right now. Anyway. We’ll figure something out. We always do. And we can just collect rainwater to drink once we get through that last bottle—pretty sure it’s still in here. Probably sank to the bottom. I’ll find it. But we’ll have to really conserve that bottle now. There’s not a cloud in the sky! Really beautiful though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a perfect clear blue sky and the water, wow, talk about aquamarine. Now that’s so clear you can see for miles underneath it! And the light on the water! Like a field of the most beautiful sparkling crystals. Hurts your eyes just to look at it! Oh, I wish you could see all this. But it's okay. Just take your time. No rush! Something tells me we’ll be here for a while. Oh! No way! Babes! Dolphins! Or are those whales?”

By the time Molly came to the lifeboat had sustained five denting blows to its stern and was missing its bow.

“Hey! You’re awake! Don’t worry, all good. Just had a little run in with some whales,” Charlotte called over her shoulder as she frantically bailed out the waves of water crashing over the front of the boat. “Where was this big hole when I needed all that water to cool you down, right?”

“Fuck,” Molly said. The boat was already starting to tip forward, the sea surging in to lay claim to the vessel and drag it under. She pulled herself up through waist high water, nauseated and shaking, and grabbed the life ring and then a plastic bag that floated by. In three half-swam steps she reached the front of the boat, pushed by Charlotte, shoved the life ring in the opening in the hull, then pulled the bag through the hole in the life ring until it was tightly sealed. Instantly the water stopped coming in and the boat lurched soddenly upright, throwing the women back.

“Babe, that was great!” Charlotte gurgled when she resurfaced from the bottom of the boat. “You totally MacGyver’ed the shit out of that! Just like the time we had to blast our way out of that collapsed cave. Remember?”

Molly gripped the side of the boat to keep from slipping under the water again. “We’ve got to get rid of all this water.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got this bucket right…huh. Oh snap! Must’ve slipped out of the boat.” She pointed to an orange slash bobbing in the infinite blue, already dozens of yards away. It glowed in the beginning gild of the late day sun. “No prob though. We still got a bunch of empty water bottles. Here’s one. Works great!”

Molly watched her wife scoop up a few ounces and drip it back into the sea.

“Might take a while but we got time, right?” Charlotte said.

“It’ll go faster if you can cut off the neck.”

“That’s my babes, always thinking.” Charlotte bit the top of the water bottle and twisted it between her teeth. She only crushed the opening closed.

“Here, give it to me.” Molly scraped the neck of the bottle against a sharp section of fiberglass that had cut into her fingers when she grabbed the edge of the boat.

“Babes a genius! Just like when you used a rock to sharpen those sticks on the Appalachian trail with that serial killer. Remember that?”

“Of course I remember.” Molly handed her the cut open bottle and started to work on a second as the sun, swollen, orange, and increasingly powerless, careened toward the sea. “Another one of your brilliant ideas.”

“Hey. That was not my fault! How could I have possibly known there was a serial killer stalking young women on the trail?”

Molly handed her the second water bottle and grabbed a third floating by.

“Because,” she said as she scraped, “like four thru-hikers and then a Ranger actually warned us. Everyone was like three girls are already missing. Stay in large groups. Stay in well-lit, organized campgrounds. But nooooo, we had to go into the backcountry, alone, in the most desolate area, with no cell service.”

“But babes.” Charlotte was really moving now, scooping out water with both hands. The level inside the boat dropped. “It was our first big trip together, and your first time camping. I wanted it to be really amazing. There weren’t any good views off the trail and it’s always so crowded in the campgrounds. You can only really see the stars and hear all the night sounds deep in the woods. I just wanted you to have the best experience ever!”

“Best experience ever!” Molly bailed slowly. Moving made her head throb and her mouth was painfully dry. As everything took on a deep copper shine she started to shiver. “Hiding in tree hollows and thickets, scared to even open a granola bar because of the sound, clawing our way exhausted and starving through never-ending brush. What a fabulous time. I don’t remember seeing one star!”

“Yeah, but you were so great.” Charlotte stopped bailing and smiled at Molly, dried blood cracking and flaking off around her lips. “Setting those traps like you did. Man I’ll never forget the moment when you made us stop running and picked up that stick, just kind of weighed it in your hand. I thought right then this is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. We make such a great team.”

“No! No we don’t. You’re completely toxic for me,” Molly said but just then Charlotte dropped both her water bottle bailers and clasped her hands at her chest.

“Oh babes! I saw it. Did you see it? Did you see it!” And she looked at her wife in wonder. “I finally saw the green flash.”

But when Molly looked west there was only ceaseless sunless blue.

By the time the sky had shaded down to night, with only a sliver moon and a billion stars left above, the inside of the boat was dry. The women sat next to each other with their backs curving into the port side, the one remaining full water bottle and the paddle at their feet. Charlotte had been silent for some time. Her head was tilted back, as if she gazed at the sky, but to Molly it looked like her eyes were closed. When she spoke Molly jumped.

“Drink that water. I had like four bottles today.”

“We should save it for tomorrow,” Molly said, her jaw clenched as she continued to shiver, wet and numb.

“Nah.” Charlotte spoke slowly and her voice was small. “It’ll rain tomorrow.”

Molly groaned as she reached down for the water, dropping it twice in her deadened fingers. But she managed to get it open and take a sip, surprised Charlotte hadn’t reached over to help her. She passed the bottle to Charlotte who shook her head, a fine spray of new blood from her head wound falling against the boat on her other side, away from Molly, so her wife didn’t see the constellation of black dots it made in the starlight.

Molly drank greedily, each sip urging a longer, stronger draft until only a few stubborn drops clung inside the crinkling plastic. Then she sat blinking in the lead-gray light, awed by how the water still glistened and gleamed, by how the sky burst and flared, by how the boat swelled and shrank in the night’s ethereal shadows. It was so profound she forgot to speak. Instead she fell asleep.

She awoke late, the sun already a blinding point and the light hot and blunt. The sky was another mass of cloudless blue and the sea its deeper counterpart but there, there, just there over the battered bow was a blotch of something new. A bird flew overhead, a gull. Molly grabbed the oar and started rowing. Charlotte still slept, her bloodied side turned away from her wife so all Molly saw was her sunburned face lying against the rail.

“Babes, there’s something out there! And I saw a bird. Get up! Babes! Hey! You got to get your face out of the sun. It’s all burned up. Hey! Babes!”

Three more birds flew by, listing low on the wind.

“Babes! It’s green. It’s definitely green. Got to be a little island or something. Oh my god Babes! I can’t fucking believe it. You were right. We’re going to make it!”

Molly laughed as five more birds swooped overhead and schools of tiny silver fish soared into the air alongside the boat.

“Oh babes I can’t believe you’re missing this. It’s amazing. There’s all these little fish like flying along the top of the water. I don’t know how they do it. Like beating their little fins so fast. And oh my god, there are pelicans out here. You love pelicans. And babes! I think I see some other boats. Yeah, yeah, there’s like a little harbor I think. We did it! We did it babes! We made it!”

Molly stretched her leg as far as she could reach without breaking her rowing pace to kick Charlotte on the bottom of her foot. Charlotte's face slid further away from Molly along the edge of the boat but she did not wake up. Molly scooted closer, still frantically rowing as the island drew larger, and kicked Charlotte harder, in the leg, then in the hip, then in the side, until her wife’s body fell over onto the bottom of the boat. It was only then, as a harbor shining with stalwart metal masts swung into full view, Molly realized no matter how hard she kicked her wife she was never going to wake up.