“How far can this thing take us?” he asked. Ethan’s eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. “Not far. This engine isn’t made for open water runs—it’s just for docking, maneuvering. And it drinks fuel faster than you think.” He hesitated, voice low. “We don’t have enough to outrun them. Only enough to buy time.”
The motor droned low, a thin hum against the crashing rhythm of the waves. The boat edged forward, stubborn but slow, leaving only a foamy trail behind it. Ethan kept his eyes locked on the horizon, jaw tight, his hands steady on the throttle.