The raft kept bucking like it had a mind of its own, slamming Aris with cold spray every few seconds. Dawn was just starting to lighten things up ahead, turning the water from black to slate gray, but the ocean didn't give a damn—it just kept shoving them west with that strong current Riot had promised. Her arms burned from clutching the life vest strap so tight, and her legs felt like dead weight from kicking off the beach. Greyvale's cliffs were nothing but a dark blur on the horizon now, the searchlights long swallowed by distance.
Riot paddled hard and steady with that broken plank, water streaming off his soaked shirt, dripping into his eyes. He didn't slow down, even when a wave hit him full in the face. "You okay back there?" he yelled over the roar, glancing quick over his shoulder.
"Barely hanging on!" Aris shouted back, spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. Her arm was still hooked tight around his waist to keep from sliding off their jury-rigged laundry-cart mess. It was the only solid thing in all this chaos. "How much farther to land? I can't feel my fingers."
"Five miles tops, probably less now. Current's hauling ass for us." He dug the plank in deeper, muscles straining under the wet fabric. "Tide flips in about twenty minutes. We beat it, we're in the clear."
She nodded, but her teeth were chattering hard—half from cold, half from the adrenaline crash hitting her like a truck. "Merrin would've checked the logs by now. Cameras in the basement. He's probably got the coast guard out already, right?"
"Count on it." Riot wiped his face with his free hand, squinting into the waves. "But the ocean's a big place. Takes time to scramble boats and choppers. We've got a solid head start—maybe an hour if we're lucky."
Another big wave crested over the side, dumping freezing water right into her lap. Aris coughed, shaking it off her face. "This raft's toast. I can hear it cracking."
"Grip those vests tighter. They'll keep us afloat even if the cart dumps us." His free hand shot back, grabbing her waist and yanking her closer against his side. His body heat cut through the wet chill just enough to keep her from losing it. "Breathe steady, Aris. Panic's what sinks people out here."
She pressed her forehead against his shoulder for a beat, just to steady herself. Salt stung her eyes—real tears or ocean, who knew. "What if they catch us? Mnemosyne's so classified, they'd throw me in a cell right next to you. No trial, no nothing."
"Not gonna happen." His voice came out firm, no room for doubt, even with the waves pounding. "We hit land, we go inland fast. No phones, no real names. I ran ops like this—backroads, small towns that don't ask questions. We'll blend."
Land started showing up slow—a low, rocky smudge on the horizon at first, then turning into a real shoreline with scraggly pine trees clinging to the edge. Maybe two miles out now. But the raft groaned loud, wood splintering under the next big hit.
"Rocks ahead!" Riot pointed with the plank, voice sharp. Whitecaps foamed around jagged points sticking up from the water.
Aris's stomach flipped. "Swim for it or ride this thing in?"
"Ride it—swimming now gets us smashed." He paddled like hell, twisting them toward a shallow bar he spotted. Waves tossed the raft like a toy. One slammed the side hard—crack!—and the whole frame buckled. They went under waist-deep, vests popping them back up, sputtering.
"Grab my hand!" Riot yelled, lunging for her. His fingers locked around hers, hauling her toward the shallows where pebbles finally crunched underfoot.
They staggered onto the beach, collapsing in a heap on the wet sand. Aris rolled onto her back, chest heaving, sucking air like she'd run a marathon. Trees loomed dark overhead, no roads or lights in sight. Full dawn now—birds chirping somewhere inland, waves still crashing behind them.
"We made it," she gasped, staring at the sky. "Holy shit, we actually did it."
Riot dropped down beside her, breathing heavy, salt crusting his stubble. His hand found hers automatic-like, squeezing hard. "Told you the current wouldn't quit."
She turned her head, their faces close—his eyes locked on hers, intense even exhausted. "Yeah, you did. Now what? We can't just sit here soaking wet."
"First things first—move inland, find cover to dry off." His thumb brushed over her knuckles, rough but gentle. "Steal some clothes from a line if we're lucky, raid a gas station for food later. Head north through the woods—small coastal towns up there, the kind that mind their own business. I know a few from old drops."
"Partners in crime now, huh?" She squeezed his hand back, heat sparking through the cold despite everything.
"Partners. Period." He sat up slow, scanning the treeline. "Chopper incoming—hear that?"
Distant thrum built low over the water. Search pattern.
Riot pulled her to her feet. "Let's move. Before they get eyes on the beach."
They bolted inland—thick trees swallowing them fast, no trail, just branches whipping and dirt underfoot. Greyvale behind them. Mnemosyne still chasing. But together.
Choppers circled closer out over the waves. Freedom felt real—but thin as the raft they'd left behind.
***
**Author's Note**
Thanks for reading guys. Waves beaten, land hit—but choppers closing in. First night on the run, confessions get real. Hide or fight?