Chapter Fifty
Present: Day Six at Sea
I grab onto the wheel to keep from falling in after them. Emma rolls against my thighs on the deck. I grasp the wheel with my other hand and hang on with all my strength until the boat levels out.
Twisting, I scan the water behind us. A spotlight shines from the ship in the distance, sweeping the water between our two boats.
It’s too dark for me to clearly make out Beth and Russell in the water, but I hear splashing and spot a white blinking light on one of their life vests.
I scan the water for the other light, then remember Russell wasn’t wearing a vest. He wasn’t even wearing a shirt.
“Russell,” I yell.
“Over here.” I turn in the direction of his shout, spotting his head bobbing atop the water in the light from the full moon.
Thankfully, he’s not too far away. Yet. I frantically feel around the deck for the flare gun, praying it didn’t go overboard.
I find the orange gun against Emma’s leg and shakily reload another flare into the barrel.
I shoot into the air, and in the flash of light, I spot Russell treading water directly behind the boat.
“Emma.” I shake her by the shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“You still with me?”
“Yeah,” she croaks.
I press my sweatshirt against her chest and fold both of her hands over it. “Keep pressure on this and hang on a little longer. Help is coming.”
“Okay.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.
I debate leaving the flare gun with her, but she’s too weak. She’ll likely lose consciousness before she can shoot it.
I reload the last flare and zip the gun into the pocket of my sweatpants as I step onto the portside pulpit. A second spotlight sweeps the ocean from the cruise ship, which looks to be turning toward us.
I need a flashlight, but by the time I find it, Russell will be too far away for me to swim to.
Instead, I feel for my tether, making sure it’s still clipped to my life vest, and plunge feet first into the Pacific.
The frigid water takes my breath away when I surface, reminding me of when I jumped into the Sol Duc after Beth.
“Russell?”
“Palmer. I’m over here.”
I swim toward his voice. A cold wave breaks against the side of my head.
With the drag of my clothes and the force of the swells, it feels like I’m swimming in place.
A wave engulfs my head. I come up, gulping for air, and realize the binoculars are still around my neck, weighing me down.
I reach to pull them off when I feel two hands press the top of my head beneath the water.
I thrash to come up and feel Beth’s surprising strength holding me down.
Her hands move to my shoulders, and I sink deeper.
I kick wildly but can’t manage to break the surface beneath her hold.
Air escapes my mouth as I clench my fist and thrust it into her jaw.
Her hands fall away, and I grapple for the surface, spurting water from my mouth between gulps for air.
I swim away but get only two strokes before I’m dragged back by my tether. As I start to go under, Beth climbs onto my back and forces me down farther with the weight of both her forearms.
“Palmer,” Russell calls before I go under, but he’s too far away to help me.
I flail my arms and legs, air escaping my mouth when I scream at Beth beneath the waves.
But she holds me under while the boat tows us behind it.
I fumble to unclip my tether. Our momentum comes to an abrupt halt when I detach the tether from my vest. I thrust a fist upward and back toward her face, but this time she grabs my wrist and pins my arm to my side.
I close my other hand around the lens of the binoculars around my neck and pull the strap off my head.
With every ounce of adrenaline coursing through my veins, I twist and pummel the binoculars into the side of Beth’s face.
Her weight falls away. I strike again, impacting the hard bone of her face before I swim to the surface.
I suck in a deep breath as Beth brings her hands to her face in the water beside me. With gritted teeth, I strike her again, this time in the temple.
“You bitch,” she seethes as water enters her mouth, muffling the end of her word. In the moonlight, she raises her hands toward my head.
“Ahh!” I hit her in the cheekbone with every bit of strength I have left.
She cries out, her arms flapping into the water as her head recoils from the force of my blow. I waste no time in swimming away from her, dropping the binoculars in my haste.
“Palmer.”
Russell sounds less than ten feet away from me. I keep swimming.
“Russell?”
“I’m—”
Splash.
“Here,” he spurts.
I turn around and spot the outline of his head bobbing atop the rough surface. When I reach him, a wave splashes over our heads. He coughs when we emerge.
“I brought . . . the flare gun.” My lips quiver from the cold.
I feel him grab onto my shirt as I unzip my pants pocket. I withdraw the gun and lift it above the surface, wondering if it will still work soaking wet. Aiming at the sky, I pull the trigger. It shoots into the air with a high-pitched whiz before a bright-pink flash erupts in the dark sky.
I exhale. Thank God.
Russell’s head sinks beneath the water before resurfacing. He sucks in an audible breath.
I hook my arms beneath his armpits from behind him. “Lie back. My life vest should hold us both.”
He does as I say, but his added weight brings the water over my mouth, so I tilt my head back. A swell swallows us. I keep hold of Russell as I swim for the scattered moonlight on the waves, which is a struggle even with my flotation device.
When we break the surface, I gulp for air.
“You need to let me go,” he says.
“No.” After finally learning that I wasn’t to blame for Courtney’s death, I can’t face being responsible for the death of her brother. “Help is coming,” I spurt.
He pushes away from me. “It’ll take too long for that ship to get here.”
I grab his arm. “Do you hear that?”
I turn toward the hum of a motor, but I can’t see anything over the choppy water.
“Let me go.”
“Wait. Look!”
In the distance, a green light speeds toward us. It looks halfway between us and the cruise ship, which is now heading in our direction.
“They must’ve sent out a lifeboat.”
I wave my hands over my head. “Hey,” I call. “Over here!”
As the light comes closer, the drone of the motor grows louder. A bright beam sweeps across the surrounding water before coming to a stop on Russell and me.
“They see us,” I gurgle, lowering my arms.
The orange-encapsulated boat slows. As it pulls up beside us, a life ring is tossed over the side.
Russell and I sling our arms over the sides of the ring.
“Hang on,” a man calls from the boat. “I’m going to pull you in.”
After being pulled on board, a woman covers us each in a hypothermia blanket and introduces herself as the ship’s nurse.
“Is it just you two out here?” asks the man driving the boat.
“No,” I tell him. “There’s another person in the water, and another on our sailboat. We lost power, so there’s no light. The woman on the boat has been shot. She needs to get to a hospital.”
“We’ve already called the Coast Guard. They’re sending out a helicopter. I’ve got eyes on the boat. I’ll let them know.” The boat driver lifts a radio mic from the dash.
“You said there’s another person in the water?” The other man on the boat asks.
“Yes. She’s wearing a life vest, and it has a flashing white beacon like mine.”
The man scans the surrounding waters with a searchlight beam before turning back to me. “We’ll keep looking. But I don’t spot anyone.”
I huddle against Russell as the ship’s nurse asks if we’ve sustained any major injuries.
We assure her we didn’t, and she tells us to keep the blankets on. “We need to get you warm,” she says.
I turn to Russell when she goes to help search the water for Beth.
“I’m sorry about Courtney.”
“Thanks,” he says, his shoulder touching mine. “But it’s not your fault.”
Across from Russell and me, a small window shows the searchlight sweeping the ocean’s surface. Sitting beside Courtney’s brother, I’m struck by an eerily unsettling feeling—this moment echoing the day I left the trailhead in Beth’s van twenty years ago. Except now I’m not carrying a dark secret.
Although freeing myself from my lie has come at a very high price.