Suspending Reality (88 page)

I slowly made my way toward the cabin door. Just above me, another crack of thunder exploded. Goosebumps pimpled my skin. There was more blindingly white light before the single streak of lightning broke into several branches. I breathed in and out deeply, hoping to make it to the cabin. Once I was behind that door, I knew I would be okay. I had no doubt my father could steer
Wind Dancer
safely back to the island.

The boat lurched again. Sodas and chunks of ice from the open cooler shot past me, barely missing my head. Shivering, I shielded my face with an arm, clenching my teeth as I inched forward.
Almost there
. Stinging rain pounded down harder. I took one more brave step and slipped, falling on one knee. The pain surging up my leg made me bite my lip to stifle a scream.
No need to worry the others
.

As I pushed myself up, an enormous wall of water rose high above us, crested, and slowly fell over our heads like a collapsing building. I tried to scream and swallowed a lungful of bitter seawater as I slammed into something hard. I wrapped my arms around it—the rail—and clung with all my might. A shudder ripped through my body. Salt stung my eyes and throat, but I didn’t dare let go.

“Casey!” My head jerked toward the sound of my mother’s frantic scream. As the water passed over her, I caught a glimpse of my mom’s face. My mother shrieked, terror in her wide-open eyes, her mouth gaping, her hands reaching out for help as she was torn from the boat and swallowed by the dark, furious sea. “Mom!” I yelled.

My heart lurched.
This isn’t happening. It can’t be
. In a blur, I scrambled up, coughing and choking. Crying, I screamed hysterically and scoured the undulating water. “Help! My mom’s gone overboard.” I continued to peer into the rain, but I couldn’t see a thing. My heart drummed harder against my chest, and when I could breathe again, I let out another horrified wail. I decided I’d do for my mother what I knew without a doubt that my mother would do for me: She would find me no matter what, rainstorm or not! I untied a red and white life ring, climbed over the rail, and positioned myself to jump.

Jack grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back. “What the heck do you think you’re doing? Get down.”

Strong arms encircled my waist. I struggled against Jack’s iron grip as he lifted me off my feet, pulling me back on deck. “Are you crazy?” he yelled above the crashing waves.

Another shot of adrenaline surged through my veins. “Let go of me! The wave! It…it swept my mom overboard. I’ve gotta help her!”

“No.” Jack refused to let me go, shaking his head adamantly. “You’ll get yourself killed out there.”

I punched and kicked, hitting him hard.
Doesn’t he get it? That’s my mother out there!
“I don’t care!” I shouted furiously through a veil of tears. “My mom needs me.”

“Calm down,” he said in my ear. “Would your mom want you to jump in there? No, she wouldn’t, and you know it.”

I continued to struggle, but my attempts became less forceful, my body giving in before my will. I turned to face him. Water drizzled from his nose, chin, and hair. Letting out a breath, I said, “But my mom’s…she’s…out there.”

Jack leaned over the edge and yelled, “Mrs. Smith!” He glanced over, his eyes wide. “Where’s Mike?”

“I dunno.” I swiveled one of the deck lights directly at the ocean, swinging the yellow beam in a wide arc. My voice thundered through the storm, shaky as it was. “Mom? Mom? Mike? Where are you?” Even if they couldn’t hear me over the ocean roars, I hoped they might see the light and try to swim toward it. The wind whipped across my face as I cried out, “Do you see them?”

Jack shielded his eyes and peered out through the driving rain. “Nothing.”

Suddenly a muffled yell pierced the air. “Mike?” I shouted.

Jack’s head whipped around, and he pointed toward the bow. “Over there.”

A familiar figure emerged through the gloom. It was indeed Mike, and he hadn’t fallen overboard. I clutched my chest and let out a long sigh of relief. The thought of anything happening to him tore at my heart. Now I could focus all of my energy on finding my mom. I threw my arms around Mike, tears flowing down my face. I spoke between sobs. “I’m so glad you’re okay, but my mom went overboard”—I gripped his wet shirt tightly—“and we have to find her.”

“What?” said Mike, staggering backward. “Where’s your dad?”

“He’s in the wheelhouse,” I shouted. “C’mon!”

“If another wave hits, hang onto anything you can find that’s bolted down.” Jack was trying to be brave, but he could never fool me. I saw the fear in his eyes.

Something cold swirled around my ankles. Water. Rushing in. And fast. I gasped. Floating floorboards, cushions, charts, and magazines sloshed about the deck.
What if this boat sinks like a giant rock?
I froze, my breath caught in my throat.

Mike shook my shoulder, terror etched in his voice. “Crap! We’re sinking.”

I saw my own fears mirrored in their tense faces. “Keep moving!” I grabbed their hands, and we raced through the fierce wind and rain. When we finally reached the wheelhouse, I flung the door open and shouted for my father.

Lightning flashed, and in the brightness, I saw that the tiny room was vacant. The windows rattled, and heavy rain beat against the glass. The microphone dangled from the radio, almost touching the ground. My father’s floppy fishing hat slid across the wet floor.

I trembled as a feeling of dread encompassed my body. “Dad! Where
are
you?”

***

Goosebumps covered my arms as
Wind Dancer
teetered on the crest of a mountainous swell. Tilting forward, the sailboat dropped through the air like an elevator in free fall. I clenched my teeth, gripping the doorframe till my knuckles went white. When the boat slammed into the trench, a towering surge of spray crashed over my head. Pushing back wet strands of tangled hair, I wiped my eyes. Jack staggered and grabbed hold of the steering wheel.

Mike stumbled to his feet and yelled over his shoulder, “You two stay here. I’ll hunt for your dad.”

Without me? No way!
I opened my mouth to object, but Mike was already bounding down the deck. I let out a breath. “Wait, Mike! I’m coming with you!” A strong breeze swept over me, and I wondered whether he’d heard me.

Mike spun around as rain sheeted down, his drenched clothes clinging to his body. I dashed after him, not realizing he’d spoken until he threw up his hands. “What?” I shouted over the ear-splitting thunder.

“I said, you’re the only one who knows how to use the radio.” Mike cupped his hands around his mouth to make himself heard.

I flicked my long hair out of my face. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

“Okay, I’ll get help. Find my dad.” I shot a last pleading glance at him before I turned on my slippery heels.

“I promise. I’ll look everywhere!” he shouted.

I skidded back to the wheelhouse, desperate to get to the radio. As I flung open the door, Jack scrambled to help me inside. Together, we battled the strong wind until the door finally clicked shut.

“I’ll send out an SOS,” I panted, my heart hammering.

A flash of lightning illuminated the night sky. I switched on the radio and picked up the microphone. I jumped when a violent clap of thunder cracked above me, as if someone had snapped a bullwhip just inches from my ear. With shaky fingers, I tuned in to Channel 16. My voice broke as I forced myself to speak. “Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is
Wind Dancer.
Can anybody hear me?” I gripped the receiver tightly with both hands. “Somebody, please answer!”

No response. I threw a terrified glance toward Jack, who was pulling at his wet shirt.

“Do you have the right channel?” he asked, his gaze focused on the intercom.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded. Water streamed off my hair and down my cheeks. I steadied myself against the cockpit wall, using it to keep my balance as waves crashed violently over the bow.

“Try again.” Jack stepped behind me and rubbed an encouraging hand over my back.

Surely someone will hear us
. I inhaled and kept trying, over and over, until the radio crackled, fuzzy with static.

“Vessel in distress, this is
Silver Bullet.
What assistance do you need?”

I gasped.
Thank God somebody answered
. I grasped the microphone to quell some of my trembling. “Please help,” I croaked, my throat dry and sore from shouting. “My mom fell overboard, and my dad’s missing. We’re sinking. Please send the Coast Guard…the Navy…anybody!”

Barely able to discern the radio chatter from the static, I held my breath as I tried to make out their message.

“I will notify…Fiji Navy…your location?” said the voice.

“What?” I shouted. “You’re breaking up!” The boat pitched, and I grabbed the back of the captain’s swivel chair. As it spun around, I fought to keep my balance. I hung on as another wave slammed into our vessel like a giant fist.

My breath came fast and shallow, misting the rain-streaked windowpane. My stomach twisted at the thought of what might be happening to my parents and Mike out in the storm. I shook my head, but the thoughts wouldn’t quite go away.

“Stay as calm as you can,” said the deep, comforting voice. “Make sure your EPIRB is operating so a satellite can pick up the radio waves and we can find you. Hold on. Help’s coming.”

“Jack, you know the orange walkie-talkie thing mounted outside the cabin?” When he nodded, I continued, “Take it out of the brackets and turn the switch on.”

“I’m on it!” Jack threw the door open and sped out into the blanket of rain as lightning flashed across the sky.

“You need to give me your latitude and longitude coordinates from your navigation chart or global positioning system,” said the voice on the radio.

I glanced down at the GPS nestled in the controls and gulped. A tiny crack ran down the wide digital screen.
Why now? It was fine earlier.
I glanced around; nothing had fallen. I pressed a red button. The small monitor blinked and turned black. 

I screamed into the microphone, “GPS not working!”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”  

“Okay, I’m going to get you through this step by step,” said the man. “For starters, look at your compass.”

The needle on the deck compass spun around counterclockwise. I tapped on it, and the needle jumped back and forth erratically.
What’s going on? This isn’t the freaking Bermuda Triangle, right?
“It’s not working either. It’s just…going crazy.” 

“Can you give me a specific landmark near you?” the voice asked.

“I know we’re south of the Fiji islands.”

“Which island?”

Jack appeared beside me and pushed his soaked hair out of his eyes. “There’re like 300 of them.”

I frantically looked around the cabin. I needed to keep my cool and think. My gaze fell on the far end of the wall. I darted over and ran my finger across the waterproof chart. The island was circled in red. In two steps, I reached the desk and grabbed the microphone. “Viti Levu.”

Silence.

A burst of static. More silence. I blinked water from my lashes, waiting, hoping. “Hello? Hello? Are you there?” No response. I tried once more, pressing the button in a frenzy as my heart jackhammered against my ribs.
No, this can’t be happening. Not now.

Still nothing.

I dropped the microphone and whipped around to stare into Jack’s eyes. “It went dead.” He didn’t say a word. He just hugged me, his palm rubbing the hard knots in my shoulders.

Biting my lip, I tore away from him. I’d never acted like a damsel in distress before, and I wasn’t going to start playing the role now. Did the S
ilver Bullet
hear what island we were near before the radio died? Rescue couldn’t waste valuable time searching around the wrong islands. My mom’s life depended on that call; everyone’s life depended on that precious communication.

Jack steadied himself against the wall, holding up the orange emergency beacon. “Don’t worry. The transmitter’s on. They’ll pick up our signal and come get us.”

The boat creaked and groaned, making me flinch. I wiped a circle clean on the fogged window. “Where’s Mike?”

“I don’t know, but he should’ve been back by now.”

The lights flickered and went out. Every muscle tensed as I blinked, blinded in the sudden darkness. “Crap! We lost the generator.” I ran a hand along the wall until my fingers wrapped around a metal handle.

I rummaged through the top drawer and fumbled for a flashlight, when a lightning bolt shot across the sky. A wave crashed over the bow and rolled down the deck with the momentum and force of a mighty tsunami. I ducked as the mass of water smashed through the large cockpit window, slamming into me like a semi-truck. I gasped, coughed, and then gasped again. The cold water reached my waist. Wind howled through the broken window, whipping my hair across my cheeks and eyes. I clutched Jack, burying my face into his chest. His arms encircled me in a strong grip. “I feel like I’m in a scene from
Titanic
. I don’t want to die like this, Jack,” I said, and found it somewhat fitting that his name was Jack in such a scenario.