Page 11 of Endless Depths

I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts. “Stop. I can’t breathe.”

The PA clicks on. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but keep your pants on and your hands to yourselves,” Seb says. “The marker’s right off the bow, Cole.”

“Roger.” I grab the hook and return to the rail.

Facing the ocean feels like standing in front of a pressure washer thanks to forty-knot winds, but I live for the high of throwing the hook, the uncertainty of whether I’ll hit my mark, even though I never miss. When the orange buoy floats into view, I toss the hook, snag the line, and feed the rope into the ice-coated block. We finish strong with a trap stuffed with crab.

“Woo!” Lawrence shouts.

While Lawrence and Wes use the crane to stack the empty pot on top of the others, the rest of us crowd around the table, sorting crab in a hurry.

Static scratches over the two-way PA. I look up at the wheelhouse, but it’s impossible to make out Seb.

“False alarm?” Javi suggests.

Morgan, tight-lipped and sullen, shouts into the two-way, “Everything okay up there, Seb?”

I push the plastic tote of rejected crab to the rail and dump them back in. “Until next year, crab brethren.” I salute them, because at this point I’m just as delirious as Lawrence.

The PA crackles again. This time, Seb shouts, “RUN!”

A giant wall of water slams into my back and pins me to the deck, the crushing weight impossible to breathe against. The boat rights. The water recedes. I suck in a deep breath, and scramble to my feet, scanning the deck with mounting panic.

Where’s Morgan?

“Cole, watch out!” Morgan yells from my left, abject horror dashing his features as he runs toward me, arms outstretched.

I follow his gaze to the sorting table barreling toward me. Well, fuck. If I get hurt, I’ll have to listen to the most annoying I-told-you-so in history. Morgan grabs a fistful of my jacket and pulls me toward him, but not fast enough.

The sorting table slams into my side. Pain explodes through my center like I’ve been cut in half. My entire existence tunnels down to one thing—agony.

“Cole!” Morgan shoves the table out of the way, and gravity yanks me to the unforgiving deck.

Footsteps vibrate beneath me, rippling pain through my bloodstream. I try to curl into the fetal position, but can’t. Blades of pain pierce my chest with every inhaled breath.

It takes a lot to scare a Bering Sea fisherman, so when Morgan drops to his knees beside me, eyes wide in panic, I start to panic too.

“Hey, you’re okay.” He cups my cheek and hushes me soothingly. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch you, but I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you.”

Javi appears on my other side. “Cole, where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” I rasp.

Morgan’s face crumples. He probably wishes he could feel my pain for me. I’d feel the same. Thank god it’s me who’s hurt and not him.

Javi unbuckles my life vest and unzips my jacket. “I’m going to check you for injuries.”

He starts with my neck and works his way southward, poking and prodding while my vision blurs on Morgan’s anguished face. When Javi reaches my ribs, I gasp and arch in agony. Blood roars in my ears, and stars explode across my view of Morgan.

“These feel like they’re broken.” Javi takes my wrist and checks my pulse.

“I’m so sorry,” Morgan says.

“You saved me.” If the table had hit me head on, I’d be dead by now.

Javi’s hands descend to my diaphragm. I flinch hard.

Morgan palms my cheek, and takes my hand. “Shh. Stay still. Focus on me.”