Page 128 of Ford

The perfect storm.

“Go, go! RJ!”

The sea gathered beneath them as RJ fought to climb the ladder banging against the hull, fighting her efforts.

He should get behind her, climb with her, make sure she held on.

He grabbed the rope with his other hand and looked away as RJ nearly kicked him.

The sea crested beneath the boat, grabbing hold of the flat hull. It tore the boat away from him.

“Ford!” Scarlett dropped to her knees, holding onto the seat as the boat drifted free.

He hung from the rope, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the rungs. Glanced over his shoulder. Scarlett was hanging onto her seat, her face pale as the sea drove her back, away from the freighter.

The freighter fell, banging hard into the next trough. The movement jarred RJ, slamming her into the side, crushing her hand. She cried out and let go.

She dangled by her other hand, slipping.

“Hang on!” His arms burned as he trapped her against the ladder.

He glanced back at Scarlett. If he let go, he could catch the boat, motor it back.

RJ was fighting for her hold.

The sea engulfed them, pulling them under. Water burned his eyes, and he shook it away, his arms burning as he anchored himself on the ladder, his feet finding purchase.

RJ found her grip.

A glance behind him showed Scarlett climbing over the bench seats to grab the motor throttle. Good girl. Keep up—

The freighter started to move, the engines in the body rumbling the metal, growling against the angry sea. RJ found her footing, but the freighter lurched forward, and with it came another surge from the sea.

This time, the slam against the hull shook her free from the rope.

RJ took Ford out on the way down, ripping his grip from the rope. They splashed into the sea, the current gulping them down into the briny depths.

No—he wouldn’t die under the rusty hull of a boat. He wrapped one arm around RJ, kicked hard, and lunged for the rope. His fingers caught a rung, and he hauled them both upward, toward the ladder.

They surfaced, gasping. “Grab the ladder!”

RJ leaped for it and got her hand around the rung.

“You can do it!” Ford shouted, although his mouth was practically against her ear. But the sea and roar of the wind and the torrent of rain gobbled his words.

Over the din, he made out his name and turned just as RJ got her other hand on the rung.

The sea had rushed them into a deep trough, and he felt the water fall away, a giant vacuum pulling the freighter into trouble. He searched for the metal skiff and spied it near the stern of the ship. Scarlett was fighting with the motor, pulling the rip cord.

Of course it had died.

RJ had pulled herself up, securing her feet on a rung.

“Ford!”

He looked up and then followed her gaze.

Oh. No.

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