Book 26 Hurricane After Dark #5
The ride is much rougher than Joe expected.
It’s wilder than anything he’s ever experienced in more than twenty years as a ferryboat captain and during a lifetime of rides to and from the island with his grandfather while growing up on the island.
It takes all his skill to navigate seas that top fifteen feet by his estimation.
The roller-coaster ride is making him queasy, which rarely happens.
He glances over his shoulder to make sure Seamus’s boat is still right behind them and picks up the radio to call his colleague or stepfather or whatever the hell the Irishman is to him. “How you doing?” he asks.
“Hanging in. You?”
They have to be careful what they say, knowing Carolina is monitoring the radio and will read between the lines to get the true story. “Same. Should be through the worst of it any time now.”
“That’s what the radar says.”
Joe takes a sip of the coffee one of the mates had gone downstairs to make and scans the seas in front of them, lit by the massive spotlight on the bow. He thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him when he sees an upside-down boat with a man on top of it, waving to him.
“Seamus, I’ve got an overturned boat in front of me with a guy on top of it.”
Attempting a rescue in seas this large would be ludicrous, but they have to try. It’s too dark to be able to tell if it’s Deacon Taylor. Because the boat is upside down, there are no distinguishing marks to identify it.
“What’s the plan?” Seamus asks.
“We have to at least try to get him.”
The ferries are huge compared to the small boat the man is clinging to. Getting close to him will be next to impossible.
Joe looks to his mates, Colin and Keith. “I’m not going to require you to do this.”
“We’ll do it,” Colin says. “Of course, we will.”
Keith nods in agreement.
“Put on your survival suits first.”
As they’re two of the company’s more experienced deckhands, he has faith in their abilities.
He puts on the tether harness and clips a line to the hook on the front. “I’ll head to the aft controls so I can see you.” Before he leaves the wheelhouse, he says, “Listen, use your judgment. If it can’t be done, it can’t be done.”
“We’ll get him,” Keith says. “We can’t leave him out here to die.”
Joe feels the same way, but as the big ferry bobs in the huge seas, he has no idea if they can do this. “Take a handheld radio and help me get close enough.”
Seamus positions his boat behind them, casting additional light on the stranded boater.
Joe pulls the handheld radio out of his pocket. “Help me out, Seamus. I can’t see shit.”
“You’re about twenty feet from him.” Seamus calmly conveys directions that help Joe bring the ferry within a few yards of the disabled vessel. Over the loudspeaker on his boat, Seamus says, “Let it rip, boys. You might not get any closer.”
“Come on, come on, come on,” Joe says under his breath as he fights to stay standing on the deck.
“They got him,” Seamus says. “They’re hauling him in.”
Joe decides he can be more help on the deck hauling the man in, so he leaves the controls and goes down to help. The man they’ve rescued turns onto his back and removes the hood of his survival suit.
Deacon Taylor.
“Are we ever glad to see you, mate,” Joe says.
“Not half as glad as I am to see you,” Deacon says, gasping for air. “‘Thank you’ seems rather inadequate, but it’s all I’ve got.”
“What the hell happened?”
“I got swamped by a massive wave that swept away my phone, my handheld radio and shorted out everything else.” He wipes water off his face.
“The boat filled with water that I tried to bail after the bilge pump failed, but I overturned about three hours ago and was running out of strength to hang on when I saw you guys coming. Thought I was hallucinating because what kind of crazy bastards would be out in this shit?”
Joe laughs. “Blame it on the Irishman. It was his big idea.”
“Anyone got a phone I can borrow?” Deacon asks.
Joe pulls the Velcro on his pocket, removes his phone, checks to see that they still have service even several miles offshore, enters his code and hands it to Deacon.
He punches in a number and closes his eyes as he waits for the call to go through. “Hey, baby. It’s me.”
From several feet away, Joe can hear Julia’s piercing scream and smiles, thinking of the relief Deacon’s loved ones would feel once word gets out that he’d been found.
“Good work, guys,” he says to Colin and Keith. “Very good work.”
Jace Carson has quite the hurricane party going at the Beachcomber.
His girlfriend, Cindy Lawry, is there along with Duke Sullivan, owner of the tattoo studio, and Sierra Mancini, a massage therapist. Duke is trying to convince Cindy that he could put beautiful flowers on her untouched skin, which Cindy declines due to her fear of needles.
Jace asks how Julia is doing. “Not good. She’s with Katie and Shane. I asked Katie if I should go over there, but she said they’re trying to encourage Julia to get some rest.”
“That’s probably not going to happen.”
“That’s what I thought, too. I feel so bad for her. She’s so, so happy with him. If anything happens…”
“He’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
Cindy’s phone chimes with a text. “It’s from Katie. They found him. Oh, my God. Joe and Seamus spotted him floating at sea on his upside-down boat.”
“Wow. He got lucky.”
“Thank goodness. Julia must be sick with relief.” Cindy types a response to her sister. “Katie says Julia can’t stop crying since Deacon called her.”
“I’m so glad he’s okay.”
“Me, too.” Cindy releases a deep breath. “All I could think about was what would happen to Julia if he didn’t come home.”
Jace put his hand over hers. “It’s okay to exhale. Everything is okay.”
Soon, Matilda, the night manager, comes in and tells Jace it’s time to shut down.
The storm is getting closer, and they want everyone to get home safely.
Jace delivers food to Cindy and a few others.
While she eats, he moves quickly to get the bar cleaned up and tabs settled as the crowd starts to thin out.
“Go with God, y’all,” Duke says when he stands to leave. “And come in afterward for your ‘Fuck Ethel’ tats.”
“We’ll run right over,” Jace says, grinning.
Deacon calls Julia again just to hear her voice.
He thought of her the whole time he was stranded and wants to know why they’re waiting to get married.
She agrees that they should marry soon. She encourages him to call his brother.
Blaine tells Deacon he took five years off his life.
Deacon is going to marry Julia soon and asks Blaine to be his best man.
He also asks his brother to check on Julia for him, which Blaine agrees to do.
Blaine is driving around the island, checking for fallen trees and power lines. Only because he’s driving so slowly does he spot something by the side of the road.
What the hell is that?
He turns on his emergency lights and pulls off the road, keeping his headlights trained on the object.
After tugging the hood of his foul-weather coat over his head, he gets out of the SUV and fights the elements as he makes his way toward the thing he’d spotted.
As he gets closer, he realizes it’s moving.
“Hello?” he calls, speaking loudly to be heard over the roar of wind and rain.
The person startles and looks up at Blaine.
A woman is hunched over. And is that a child tucked up against her body?
“What are you doing out here in the storm?”
“I… We were staying in a cottage, but the wind… The whole place was shaking, and then the roof blew off. I was frightened, so I decided to leave, hoping I’d find someone to give us a ride into town.” Her teeth are chattering so hard, she can barely speak.
“Let’s get you into my SUV and warm you up.”
“I… I don’t think so.”
“You can’t stay out here in a hurricane.” He’s shouting to be heard in the storm and notes how she recoils from him.
“It’s a hurricane?”
He nods. How can anyone not know that? “I’m Blaine Taylor, the chief of police on the island. I can take you somewhere safe. Please, let me help you. If you stay out here, you and your child are apt to be killed.”
“C-could I see your b-badge?”
Blaine fishes it out of his pocket and uses his flashlight to light it up for her.
“O-okay.”
After verifying neither the woman nor the child needs medical attention, Blaine offers her a room at his home. He and his wife can provide her shelter from the storm. She agrees. Blaine makes a final check-in with patrol and calls Tiffany to inform her of their guests.
“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard about the storm,” he says tentatively, hoping he doesn’t come across as judgmental.
“We were staying in a house without television or internet, and I couldn’t get a good signal for my phone.
” Her teeth stop chattering once the heat in the SUV kicks in.
“I had no idea a hurricane was coming until the roof blew off, and I was afraid it would fall down around us. I thought it would be better to leave, but that didn’t work out so well.
Thank you for stopping when you saw us.”
“I’m glad I spotted you and didn’t drive right past.”
She shudders, probably thinking about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t seen them. “I feel so stupid.”
“You didn’t know. I can see how that would’ve happened.
” He feels the wind getting stronger as he drives through the deserted downtown area on the way home, relieved to see the outside light on when he pulls into his driveway a few minutes later.
“What’s your name?” From what he can see in the faint light, she has dark hair that’s plastered to her head from the rain.
“McKenzie, and this is Jax.”
“How old is he?”
“Nine months.”
“We have two daughters. One is six, and the other is about his age.”
Tiffany opens the door for them and steps back to let them in.
Wind and rain follow them inside before Blaine can wrestle the door closed.
“It’s getting wild out there,” Tiffany says.
“Wilder by the minute,” Blaine replies. “Tiffany, this is McKenzie and her son, Jax. McKenzie, my wife, Tiffany.”