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A wave fiercely pushed up and tilted their boat away from Matt’s skiff. Away from safety.
The hook that had been hanging off the cabin swung precariously toward Kara and Michael. They both ducked to avoid being hit, but the edge of it caught Michael’s arm and he grunted in pain, forced to let go of Kara’s hand. Gravity and momentum pulled her in the opposite direction, and she slid all the way to the other side of the boat. Michael was holding on to the railing, but the boat was tilting at an unnatural angle. As the boat came down off the wave, the sound of metal crunching on rocks was earsplitting. Was the damn boat going to fall apart before it blew up?
Michael shook the pain from his bicep. The hook had torn his wet suit and he saw blood oozing from the cut. He ignored it. He was holding on as the boat was still trying to right itself.
Michael pulled himself partly up and saw the orange boat. “Go, Matt!” he called out.
“I’m not leaving!”
“One hundred yards—you have to go. I’ll get her. I won’t let her die. Gonow!”
Against every instinct, Matt turned the lifeboat away from Michael and Kara.
Michael didn’t wait to see if Matt obeyed him. The boat was at seventy-five degrees to the port. Kara was trapped on the other side of the deck, holding on to the railings, her bright orange vest a beacon to him. They had less than a minute before the boat exploded, but only seconds before the waves shifted the boat in the opposite direction.
He had to have Kara secured to him by then, or they were both dead. There was no way in hell he was jumping without her.
He slid down the deck and grabbed Kara around the waist.
“Michael, go. I’ll jump and swim.”
“You’ll never make it in time,” he said.
He pulled a hook from his utility belt, pulled hard to release the two feet of attached line, and hooked it on Kara’s life preserver.
“I don’t want to kill you,” she said. “Please! I’m a good swimmer.”
“No one dies. Not tonight. We’re going under. Do not fight it. I have you.”
As soon as the boat tilted to the starboard side, Michael let go of the railing and let momentum take him and Kara to the other side. He took her hand, and they jumped off the trawler into the rough ocean swells. He was more worried about rocks than drowning. But by the grace of God, they missed the rocks.
Michael used every ounce of his strength to fight the current and swim hard to put as much distance as possible between them and the rigged boat. Kara had a grip on his belt, so he knew she was still with him.
He felt a wave of energy hit him, propelling him inhumanly faster through the water. He took a deep breath, knowing he was going under.
Kara was no longer holding on to his belt. He felt her weight dragging down the line that attached her to his belt, but it was jerking, as if she was struggling.
Michael swam hard straight up, breaking out of the water and gasping for air. He reached down and found the line, pulled it up even as it cut into his hands. He felt Kara’s hand on his thigh. He reached down, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her to the surface.
She coughed and fought for breath, but that was damn good. She was alive.
Together, they looked back at the boat.
It was gone, just a few flames and a lot of smoke.
He pulled out his flare, cracked it, and light glowed. He tossed it in the air.
“Kara?” he said.
“Let’s. Not. Do that again.”
“A wave. Take a breath, let it go over us.”
He held her as the wave pushed at them. When they resurfaced, Matt was only feet away with the skiff. He helped them into the boat. Then Michael detached his line from Kara.
She sank into the bottom of the boat, next to Jamie. “Is she okay? Matt—please tell me she’s not dead.”
“She’s sluggish, but awake and breathing on her own. She asked about Hazel.”
