Page 4 of Deep Waters

“When the sea is like this, it can play tricks on the eyes,” Harry said. “Are you sure?”

Christian narrowed his eyes, straining to see. “No. I’m not sure. It’s just—there.” He lurched forward, pointing.

Harry saw it at the exact same time on the upward sweep of a wave, the unmistakable shape of someone’s head and shoulders. The waves crashed, and they vanished from sight in the next second. He altered course.

If there was someone in the water this far out, they were already in big trouble.

Chapter Two

The muscles in Christian’s belly tightened. The second he realised there was a person in the water, adrenaline surged through him then everything happened very fast. Displaying remarkable control, Harry grabbed the radio and put in an immediate call to the coastguard, stating their position.

“There is at least one casualty in the water,” Harry told them.

How can he stay so calm?Christian wondered. He could only guess it was through years of experience at sea.

Harry’s eyes stayed fixed on the view ahead. “Shout out as soon as you see anything,” he instructed.

Christian nodded. They had more or less reached the location where he’d last seen the casualty. Harry brought the boat down slow. Without propulsion, the vessel was tossed upon the waves, pitching front to back and rolling side to side. From the bow, Tom scanned the water in front of them. Christian stepped onto the open deck at the rear. He had never felt so helpless.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked.

“The more eyes out there, the better.”

“Be careful. I don’t want two people in the water.” Harry’s voice was stern. “Hold on to the railing.”

As soon as he spoke, the boat took a dramatic turn to the side. Christian grabbed the rail with both hands, gripping tight. Rain lashed against his head and shoulders and the wind tore around him. While it had been obvious from the cabin that conditions were worsening, he’d had no idea they’d gotten this bad until Harry had reduced their speed. Whoever was in the sea right now, their chances were diminishing by the second.

As a reporter, Christian had spent his entire career chasing stories that had already played out, arriving on the scene when the danger had passed and reporting on the facts. He had never been this deep in an incident as it unfolded. It was an unnerving experience, and despite having reported on terrorist attacks, riots and major road collisions, he felt ill-equipped to handle it.

Unlike Harry.

He glanced at the younger man as he craned his neck from side to side, checking in every direction, and marvelled again at his composure. It was exactly what was needed. Despite his age, Harry had more than proved his ability to captain a boat.

“This way,” Tom shouted from the front, gesturing with his right hand. “Two o’clock. About twenty-five yards.”

Harry increased the throttle gently. Tom hurried down the length of the boat and jumped onto the deck beside Christian.

“He’s coming up on this side,” Tom said. “I’m going to need your help to pull him onboard.”

Christian nodded, gripping the rail as he leaned over the edge, trying to spot the casualty.

And there he was. A tiny head and one arm above the surface. The boat slowed as it approached. The man appeared unconscious. His eyes were closed, and his skin was a ghastly grey colour. His lips were almost blue. He wouldn’t last long if they didn’t get him out of there.

“Keep hold of the rail with one hand,” Tom instructed, “and help me with the other.”

Christian realised why a second later. As the boat came to a near stop, it pitched so far to the right he would have gone straight over if he hadn’t been gripping tight. His feet skidded beneath him, but he managed to keep his balance, steadying himself just as they came alongside the casualty in the water.

There was no response from the man as Tom leaned over and grabbed his jacket by the collar, pulling him against the side of the boat.

“All right,” Tom said, “now.”

Christian leaned down and grabbed the man’s jacket from the other side. A wave washed over them, and he realised just how cold the sea was. No one would survive in that temperature for long, even without the terrifying swells and lethal currents. They pulled. The man was a dead weight. With another heave, Christian hooked his elbow into the man’s armpit.

“Good,” Tom shouted as wind, rain and seawater battered their faces. “On the count of three, we’ll try to pull him in. One. Two. Three.”

They heaved. The muscles in Christian’s shoulders and back screamed with the effort. They barely managed to raise him a few inches from the side before he slipped back again. The force of another wave threatened to carry him away, but Christian held on, keeping the man close to the boat.

“Again,” Tom cried.

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