One day turned into two, the relentless heat of the sun burned their dry chapped lips. Napoleon could feel himself fading as held Illya, cradling the Russian as he'd become weaker from the seasickness, making him dehydrate faster.
Solo knew they'd be dead within 72 hours if help didn't arrive soon. They couldn't survive that long without drinking water. He took a calming breath, closing his eyes, weary of seeing nothing but an empty horizon. Rocking waves lulled him to sleep.
When all hope seemed lost, he heard it. "Ahoy!" A large freighter drew up alongside, pulling them to safety.