We spend the next sixty seconds getting oriented with our current location and the terrain, while zig-zagging at the greatest speed the latter allows to keep the mine from reaching us. Because it came from the direction we were originally heading, we have to significantly alter course to reach Port Canaveral. Our primary focus now is to avoid getting blown to pieces, while slowly decreasing the distance to shore. But Lamer is still in pursuit, and worse yet, somehow he's gaining on us.

The commander's relentless hounding makes me almost think that he's yet unaware of the mines' existence. It's a foolish assumption given Lamer's professional background and current leadership position, but right now, it's the only excuse for his dogged push to catch up. I can't even imagine what he hopes to do when he has finally closed the gap between the two ferries until we're faced with that exact scenario just two miles off the coast of Port Canaveral.

"Brace for impact!" I yell when it becomes clear that the approaching dot on the radar isn't slowing as it nears our stern. Even then, the warning doesn't come fast enough as the ferry rocks from the sudden contact.

"Did that fucker just ram into us from behind?" Ray asks, his voice higher pitched than usual from disbelief.

I open my mouth to confirm before realizing that the question was probably rhetorical. It's a good thing because Ray's sudden evasive action to keep us from crashing to the seabed puts us once again directly in the mine's path.

"Shit," I mutter, momentarily torn between which threat is greater: Lamer's ferry or the explosive device. Ray appears similarly confused, switching his attention from the electronic displays to the view outside the window and back again as he hauls our sitting duck asses through the murky water.

No amount of training has prepared us for such a scenario. Although we have studied defensive tactics, they were primarily against natural obstacles: rip currents, undersea volcanoes, or aggressive marine life. Hungry Great Whites we could handle. But never were we taught how to avoid an enemy—much less two concurrently—actively trying to kill us.

One thing Ray and I both know is that whatever is going to happen, it's about to happen very soon. We're now only about a mile off shore and if we don't do something about the mine in the next thirty seconds, we're going to have to change course.

As luck—or perhaps misfortune—would have it, fate makes the choice for us.

Out of nowhere, a shrill alarm sounds. I've never heard anything similar and it takes me a beat to find a visual indicator of its source. Above the radar display, a previously dark field has now lit up and is incessantly flashing in red.

Missile Lock Detected. Blink. Missile Lock Detected. Blink. Missile Lock Detected.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shiiiiiit," I mutter, feeling more helpless than ever. It was one thing for the mine to be somewhat haphazardly following us. It's another for it to officially lock its homing capabilities onto our position. It means it's not only close enough now to do so, but also that evading it just became that much more difficult. Perhaps even impossible.

"What do I do, Will? Help me out here, buddy," Ray urges, snapping me back to the present as he rolls the ferry first port and then starboard in an attempt to confuse the tracking system. It doesn't work. The alarm is still blaring, the light is still blinking, and Lamer's trailing ferry has advanced enough for me to get a naked-eye visual through the window.

My hands are now shaking. "I don't know, man. I—"

"Oh, fu—" Ray interjects, but even he can't finish the swear as a looming mass of steel blocks our path.

Amid our harried criss-crossing, the silt fog, the howling alarm, and the blinking radar indicators, we'd both failed to notice the approaching wreck. Well, it wasn't approaching. How could it have? It's a huge ship—either a cargo or luxury passenger vessel—sunk decades ago, like the sailboat we'd passed. But it's certainly in our way, and we would have definitely crashed right into it if Ray hadn't pulled back the yoke to its full extent.

The move slams us into our seats again, draining more blood into my head than usual. I blink rapidly to clear my vision while waiting for something to go wrong. All it would take is a broken piece of the wreck's hull to be sticking out just enough for the ferry to catch on it, shredding the outer shell and letting the sea envelop us.

But there's no snag. Instead, as we continue to race toward the surface at a near-perfect vertical trajectory, an explosion from below shakes the ferry. For a split second, even the air inside our craft appears to warm by a few degrees and our speed noticeably decreases, as if we're being sucked back down. But just as quickly, the effect is reversed and we're pushed upward again with greater ferocity. The ferry breaks through the surface of the ocean and the craft slams down with a thud.

It's still dark out. As we slowly continue toward the now visible shore glowing in an orange haze, I notice that both Nelly and Ray are yelling, but I can't comprehend their words. At first I think they're still being muffled by the alarm, until I realize that both that shrill noise and the blinking warnings have stopped. Instead, there's a dull ringing in my ears drowning out the commotion.

Ray has cut back on our speed because there are obstacles in our way. Decaying hulls of varying sizes are littered everywhere, and he has to carefully navigate around this graveyard of ships. I briefly begin to worry about the mine and Lamer catching up, until the memory of the explosion replays in my mind.

I'm still bent over my control panel sobbing when someone taps me on the shoulder. I look up. It's Nelly.

"We're the only ones left on board, Will. We should go," she says gently.

"What?" I manage to croak while wiping my wet cheek with my palm. Ray's pilot chair next to me is empty and when I look back, I see the door to the cabin open. The passenger seats previously filled with almost thirty people from Vanguard are all vacant, too.

"Ray got us safely to Port Canaveral. Everyone has already gotten off the ferry. Come," she says, reaching for my hand.

After unbuckling my harness, I stand, but my knees haven't gotten the memo for what to do and they buckle.

"Easy," Nelly says, stepping closer as I steady myself on the back of the chair. "You had a bit of a panic attack or something. Not that we blame you for shutting down. No one was expecting . . . well, that to happen."

"So it did happen then? I wasn't imagining it?" I ask, staring into her eyes. They're a little red and rimmed with shadows. "The other ferry? It's gone."

I'd meant that last part to be another question, one that she could easily refute. But it came out like a statement instead because deep down, I know it to be true. The naval mine that was locked on us hit the other ferry when Ray suddenly diverted course. Lamer probably didn't even see it coming.

She nods and touches my jaw with her fingertips. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I know he screwed your people over, but no one—"

I don't let her finish. Instead, I grab her by the back of the head and kiss her. It's not meant to be romantic. My urge for her closeness, for the contact, and for the distraction, is primeval. For one thing, I don't want Nelly making apologies for Lamer. From what I've recently found out about him, he wasn't a very good man. Not that I wished him dead for it, but he put us in that impossible situation. But more importantly, I need someone to understand that all I'm trying to do is make things better. That no matter how greatly I mess up, how terribly my plans turn out, and how awfully irresponsible I seem, my intentions are good. Because getting the second ferry blown up just made getting everyone off Vanguard much harder. And it'll now be near impossible to do whatever Bradford's secret plan for the craft was. And it's all my doing.

"What the fuck, Nel?"

We jump apart at the question even as her sweet taste lingers on my lips. But my brief respite from misery disappears as I lay eyes on Jed Sykes. My mind races to explain how Nelly's boyfriend could have known about us docking and gotten here so fast.

And that's when it occurs to me. I could see the shore from the distance because it was lit with torches. Nelly was always willing to come to Vanguard. She set me up and made me think getting a ferry was my idea. The O-Towners have been waiting for us the entire time to return.

And dumbass me? I stupidly delivered.