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“I know that. But it isn’t about how good he is, it’s about how strong he is, and he’s twelve, he hasn’t developed the muscle he needs to surf—”

Derek shot to his feet and kicked off his sneakers. He moved like lightning and grabbed Ryker’s board out of the sand and started running at the water. Ryker couldn’t even make out what his brother had seen that had him acting like the world was on fire.

He kept looking out at the ocean. There were nine surfers out there, almost all wearing black wetsuits, all coming off the last wave. Larry was easy to spot because his board was bright blue, but that’s when he saw it—a surfboard, light blue, floating upward with its nose pointed at the sky. It was Eddie’s.

Oh God, he’s tombstoning!

Shit, if his surfboard was standing on end like that, Eddie’s leash still had to be tied to it and he was probably halfway to the ocean floor!

Another wave was beginning to break. Ryker flinched as it plowed over Eddie’s surfboard. Now he couldn’t even see the spike of the board standing up in the surf.

Ryker tasted bile as he fought down the need to vomit. Eddie could die! He kept watching the others.

Where is Larry?

Then he spotted Derek. He could see that he was dragging Ryker’s surfboard behind him with the leash around his ankle as he swam out to sea.

Ryker wasn’t sure, but it looked like only six or seven of the guys were still on their boards out there. Their empty boards were nowhere close to where Ryker had last seen Eddie’s surfboard, but Derek was swimming to the right spot.

Come on Derek, you can get him. Come on Derek.

“Oh shit.” Ryker looked around at the empty beach and realized he needed to pull his head out of his ass. Instead of standing around watching, Ryker tried to think of something useful to do. Nobody else was on the beach, but near the bathrooms was a telephone booth. He sprinted toward it. Even though he was a track star, it felt like he was running through molasses. Finally, he got to the booth and punched in 9-1-1.

“What’s your emergency?”

“I’m at Newport Beach, literally on the beach, at The Wedge. My brother’s gone in the water to rescue my friend.”

“Calm down. Can you see your friend?”

Ryker turned back to the ocean. Now there were fewer guys on their boards; they had to be searching for Eddie.

“No, he hasn’t surfaced.”

“I’ve sent Fire and Rescue and notified the local lifeguard.”

“He’s twelve, Lady, he’s been under at least two minutes.”

Is that my voice? It sounds squeaky.

“I need you to calm down and tell me what’s going on.”

“I need to get back—”

“You need to stay on the line and be ready to guide the EMTs when they arrive in the parking lot.” She sounded soothing, and Ryker was able to breathe again. “I have the address of the telephone booth you’re using. They’ll be there any minute. What’s your name?”

“I’ve gotta—”

“What’s your name?” She asked again, in that same friendly soothing voice.

“Ryker. Ryker McQueen.”

“You’re doing good, Ryker. Can you hear the sirens? I need you to listen for the sirens. That’s your job.”

Ryker was gripping the handset so hard he thought it might crack.

“I don’t hear them.”

“They’re almost there.”