Rio did not let his determination waver. The next morning, he rose early to prepare for his escape. His first task was to decide which items to take and which to leave behind.

He carefully placed his gasoline stove in the raft’s cabinet. Though nearly empty, it was still valuable. He gathered all his tools—he might need them to repair the raft during the journey. Then he checked his food supply. Most of it had spoiled. He chose to take the canned tomatoes, sardines, and baked beans. The bread was already moldy and inedible. He also packed some fish, knowing he could catch more at sea.

Next, Rio took his pillows and blankets, leaving behind the mattress. He arranged them on the float inside the raft. He placed the oar and compass securely in place. Before departing, he made one last trip to the wrecked boat, searching for any final resources. He found a fishing kit with lures and extra string—something that could prove essential. He took it with him.

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Finally, Rio gently placed Timmy in the raft’s float, ensuring the cat was safe. Then, he pushed the raft toward the spot where he had first wrecked. He turned for one last look at his shelter. It had kept him alive for so long—130 days. And now, at last, he was leaving.

He checked his compass. The red needle pointed behind him, toward the ice. The white needle pointed forward—the direction of his escape.

Taking a deep breath, Rio aligned his raft properly and pushed it into the freezing Arctic waters. As he waded deeper, the icy sting bit at his legs. When the water reached his hips, he clambered into the raft.

He was free. He was escaping. After 130 days of isolation, he was finally heading home.

But his journey was far from over. He still had to endure the merciless sea and reach the Beaufort Gyre current.

“We can do it,” Rio said with quiet determination, stroking Timmy’s fur.

He just wished Arnoll was still with him.