Chapter 81
The day passed in a surreal, suffocating blur of salt, gray horizons, and the rhythmic hum of the engine that seemed to pulse into their spirit. The Atlantic was a vast and mundane stage, and for Wyatt, Rylee, and the bounty hunters, time began to lose its usual meaning. Without the digital bind of cell towers or the chaos of their normal lives, the day compressed into a series of survival-based tasks: watch the radar, scan the horizon, eat, rest, repeat.
By mid-afternoon, Aries was hunched over the navigation console, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked like a permanent scar. He tapped the glass of his phone repeatedly, his face pale under the harsh, reflected sunlight.
"Alpha," Aries called out, his voice thin. "We’re making better time than I anticipated. The current, co
