Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
All while we don’t know if we’ll still be breathing in an hour.
I count my breaths to stay calm, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
There’s a sharp curse from somewhere behind me, and I stand up, untying Molly’s leash from the wooden column around the wet bar.
Shepherd told me to stay in the observation room, but there’s no way I’m going to sit down here on my own while he’s out there risking his life.
I can’t lose my nerve.
We’re not going to die like this if I have anything to say about it.
All we have to do is get through the next few hours.
How much worse can it get?
I amble up the stairs as the yacht pitches and creaks, guiding Molly to the bridge.
It’s blacker than ever outside. Not even a hint of sunshine breaking through the chaotic clouds that match the fuming waters.
And the waves... they’ve gone from stabbing white caps to lashing silver towers.
They toss us up ten feet at a time, the ocean forming mountains that want to swallow us whole.
If we completely capsize, there’s no chance of escape.
I know that.
Another blast of wind rattling the windows makes me squeak as I stumble in to where Shepherd stands with Juan.
“What are you doing up here?” His voice is cutting when he speaks.
“Seeing how I can help. You need as many hands as you can get, don’t you?”
He moves beside me carefully, widening his stance as we roll again. The nose of the yacht rises up a terrifying amount before we drop down the other side of the wave.
“Destiny.” My name sounds so small through the shrieking wind.
“I can’t do it. I can’t stay down there,” I flare. “Not unless you come with me.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, and Juan needs all the help he can get.”
“Then tell me what I can do. There must be something,” I say.
Thunder growls loudly again.
Shepherd curses. Juan is pale-faced and tight-lipped, totally focused on the screen in front of him, system readings that are very—red?
So much red everywhere.
Even I can tell this ship is in serious trouble, more than I thought.
I secure Molly to the nearest crew chair, which is bolted to the floor up here, and give the leash a firm tug. Her eyes are wide and fearful.
“Stay. Let me do some work and we’ll be home soon.”
The worst part is how faithfully she listens. Even now, when so much is happening and she’s clearly terrified, she trusts me to see her through.
If only I had the same confidence.
I comb my fingers through her fur and kiss her nose one more time, telling her she’s a good girl. My words are nonsensical, reassuring and empty, filled with real affection and false promises.
But I will myself to believe them.
Molly’s tail wags as I loop my arms around her neck.
“At least tell me the plan?” I demand, staring at Shepherd.
“We’re pulling anchor since the comms are shot. With any luck, the current should push us toward land. Last Coast Guard vessel that responded was almost an hour out, and it’ll never make it in this mess. We need to break out of the storm zone, so we’ll steer the yacht as well as we can. We’ll meet the waves head-on,” Shepherd says.
His steely eyes are narrowed on the view in front of us and the mounting waves like skyscrapers.
How do they keep getting bigger?
My whole mouth tastes like copper now, and I think I bit my tongue.
Captain Juan slams his hand against the screen in frustration.
“This doesn’t make sense, sir. It says we’re taking on water in the storage bay, but Peter ran down there and said it was bone-dry. This crap must’ve fried our sensors. Hard to tell what’s going on,” he snaps.
Sweat beads down his neck in rivulets.
I dig my fingers into Molly’s harness, holding on as I watch them go back and forth about the best course of action like two combat vets planning a raid. The tension between them almost hits breaking point.
And I guess that goes for everyone in this room, too.
It’s not just worry lining their faces.
It isn’t just concern wrapping hands around their throats with strained words.
The two men in front of me aren’t sure what to do, and their uncertainty feeds my fear, potent and commanding.
Shepherd curses again, pounding the wall before he sends me a quick glance and turns his attention back to the instruments.
Screens are flickering now, strobing right along with the overhead lights.
And I realize there’s something worse than getting pulled under by the storm.
The very real possibility that this ship might be pitch-black when it gets swallowed up.
Lucky me.
And my luck gets even better three seconds later when the lights blow out.
For the first time, I’m truly paralyzed in the roaring blackness.
I can’t even get back to Molly, but somehow, I stumble into Shepherd and grip his arm for support. “Tell me what to do. Please.”