Red Tide² ━ FTWD

CHAPTER 18: Judas Kiss

RED TIDE

chapter eighteen: judas kiss

[ season 2, episode 5; captive ]

DAY 21

Heather absently picked at the seam of the blanket draped over the bench seat. Beside the wheel, Madison scoped out the marina through her binoculars. Holly had settled by her feet now, having been shooed away from Strand's after concern she may accidentally trip the man up in her enthusiasm. He still wasn't steady on his feet, and although he attempted to mask his exhaustion, Heather could see how he leaned on the wheel for much-needed support.

The tea Heather had made up for him was about half-empty now, Strand slowly making his way through it as he recovered. After his hours exposed on the open ocean, he needed the fluids and warmth it provided. Technically, he shouldn't even be standing, but both Madison and Strand had shot down the teen when she'd offered to steer in his stead. Apparently suffering through hypothermia at the helm was a preferable option to allowing Heather to take the wheel.

She was almost offended, before she remembered the price cap on the boat.

"See anyone?" Strand directed at Madison, who lowered her binoculars with a tight-lipped expression.

"Not a soul," she responded, handing over the binoculars to him.

Then, the radio flickered to life. "Hey asshole, what are you waiting for, a written invitation?" A familiar voice chided. Without seeing his face, it was startling how much he sounded like his brother — enough to set Heather's teeth on edge before she forced her jaw to loosen. "Get your ass back here. Over." It went silent again, as did the wheelhouse itself. No one spoke, eyes wide and staring.

Heather stood from her place at the bench and crept silently over to the island, each step careful — as if the man would somehow know she was listening in, even though the mic wasn't on.

Two heads peeked over the bannister, one after another as Nick and Meghan came up the stairs, eyes on the radio as they waited for another transmission. There was a tense air in the wheelhouse, no one daring to so much as breathe.

The leader spoke again, obviously losing patience with the supposed insubordination of his younger brother. "Reed, you're pissing me off."

The older teens entered the room, crowding round the small island the radio was nested upon to watch, attention rapt. Nick leaned against the helm, arm closest to the windshield propped up, while Meghan shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, eyes never straying from the radio. Madison's eyes flitted to Strand, who gave her a short nod. "Drop anchor, shut it down. Over."

Madison picked up the mic. "You can have your brother when I get my family back," she said with firm resolve.

The radio crackled to life again. "Madison, is that you?" Connor sounded almost amused, but there was a strange edge in his voice that sent the hair on Heather's arms at end that assured her he was not. It reminded her of old arguments, ones she could only remember as though she was grasping at a dream during those foggy few minutes after waking. Dinner conversations walked on thin ice, cracks appearing underneath with each invisible mistake.