Off Course by Glen Robins Page B

would always be loss and heartache and emptiness. No amount of money could change what he had brought to the men who considered each other family and called the Admiral Risty their home.
    Mr. Green approached, gun drawn. He eyed Collin suspiciously, then yanked him forward by his shirt collar until their faces were inches apart. “What are you doing? You keep quiet.”
    Collin nodded and said, “But I need water.”
    Mr. Green opened a bottle and poured it on his face. Collin caught as much of it in his mouth as he could and gulped it down hurriedly, not wanting to waste a drop.
    “No more noise,” Green demanded, shoving Collin back down.
    Collin felt himself spiraling into a round of self-pity, once again at a critical crossroads, endangering his safety and the safety of his friends. Scenes played on the screen in his mind like an accelerated slideshow: Stinky’s initial attack, Tog’s murder, Stinky punching him in the face, the dreams of Amy and the kids at his side, driving the dinghy through Hurricane Abigail, Amy beckoning for him to come to her. Collin’s thoughts were rising up like a tsunami ready to sweep him up and drown him. Don’t let this happen , he thought as he tried to push them out of his head. He knew he could not afford another disastrous meltdown. He had to pull himself together. It was time to will his way back into usefulness. But how? When every possible factor was stacked against him, and the odds of success so frightfully low, how could he hope to escape this time?
    Collin forced his mind to start thinking about solutions instead of problems. Focus on the outcome you want , he remembered hearing in a sales training session years ago. Forget the negatives you don’t want. Train yourself to think past the crisis of the present and into the future you design for yourself.
    Collin closed his eyes and started unraveling the problem by first reviewing the conversation he had just heard between Jaime and Rojas. They were sending him a message so he could prepare as much as possible. A storm was coming and the crew planned to use it to their advantage. This both buoyed his spirit and filled him with dread, not knowing how severe the storm would be or what he would be able to do to help. And in his impaired condition, he wondered how he’d survive if things got too dodgy.
    Next, he thought about Lukas. Surely Lukas was monitoring his movements by pinging his iPhone. Remembering he had the phone attached to an external battery charger eased Collin’s concerns, knowing it could send a signal, even out at sea, for up to forty-eight hours.
    The memory of Stinky as he appeared to be getting seasick flashed across his mind, bringing a small measure of hope.
    Another bright spot was that Captain Sewell and the remaining crew members were veterans of the sea. They could handle the weather much better than the hijackers could and turn it to their advantage.
    The storm could prove to be a blessing, but Collin had no idea how far away it was or how large. Knowing the Captain and crew anticipated it, added to his tentative but rising level of comfort. The hardest thing to do was waiting for it to arrive. Freedom beckoned and pulled at him, like a dog owner tugging on a leash. Collin was not unwilling to follow the call; he was unable. He wanted to end his captivity now and avoid suffering the excruciating angst of being held inside in a cramped space for days on end.
    With his mind spinning on the potentially positive outcomes, Collin’s painful memories receded into the background. Time slipped away and Collin was lost in dreams of seeing the sun again and moving about freely and not worrying about being struck repeatedly. As the moonlight streamed into the cabin of the boat, he drifted deeper into a dream-like state where he saw his family and friends standing on a shore at the edge of his vision. He could just barely make out the faces on the figures in the distance.  But they kept changing. At first, he