Between Here and the Horizon(42)

Escaping him seemed impossible.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





Sea King





They say that tragedies come in threes. I’d never been a believer in fate or acts of God, per se, but when I woke up later that night to Connor screaming, voice hoarse, terror echoing through the house like a gunshot, I wasn’t shocked. It was almost as if I’d been waiting for something awful to happen, and now that I was going to be hit with the force of yet another disaster, I was already braced and ready for the impact. I scrambled down the hallway and into his room, mentally mapping out what I would do if he was sick or injured in some way. I already had a “go-bag” prepped and ready downstairs. The gas tank of the Land Rover was full. I knew the route to the tiny Causeway medical center like the back of my hand.

I crashed through Connor’s door, rushing to his bed, but he wasn’t in it.

“Look!” He was standing at the window in just his pajama bottoms, narrow chest bare, ribcage on show. His rainbow-striped hat was missing from his head—probably the first time I’d seen him without it since Ronan had died.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Connor, tell me what’s wrong!” I ran my hands over his body, looking for something out of place. Looking for blood.

“I’m fine. I’m okay. Look, out there! Can you see?” He handed me his scuffed up binoculars, urging me closer to the window, pressing the palm of his hand against the pane of the glass. “Out there. In the dark. There’s a light. There are people in the water.”

Outside, the night was black as murder. Black as ink. How he could see anything out there was a mystery. I took the binoculars and looked through them, though, squinting into the dark. Nothing. I couldn’t see anything.

“No, not there. Here.” Connor grabbed my hand and angled me to the left, huffing impatiently. “We have to do something. They need help!”

Again, nothing. And then…light. A faint flicker of light, yellow and weak, somewhere out at sea. Four miles? Three? It was impossible to judge distance with no frame of reference and no daylight.

“It’s just an oil tanker, Connor. Maybe a cruise ship? Come on, let’s get you back into bed.”

“No. Look again. Look harder. It’s a boat. A sinking boat.”

Sighing, I did as he asked. No way he was getting back into bed without me settling this once and for all. He’d had a bad dream, maybe. He spent so long looking out of these binoculars every day that it wasn’t surprising he was having nightmares, imagining all sorts of things happening out there on the water. “Okay, Connor. I can’t see anything. I really—”

I stopped. The prow of a ship was breaching out of the water, right there where he’d said it was. My eyes were acclimating to the dark, and I could see more and more with every passing second.

The light was a fire.

The reflection of it shone out over the water, silhouetting the huge rise and swell of the waves—waves that had to be as tall as the house. Each time the water rose, I could see…

My mind went blank.

There was just no real way to comprehend what I was seeing. People. People in the water. The ship was much closer than I’d first thought. Not four miles. Not even three. It couldn’t have been much more than six or seven hundred feet from the shore.

“Oh god. We have to call somebody.” Without thinking I wrapped my arm around Connor and hoisted him onto my hip. He was way too big to be carried far, but I could make it to Amie’s room. She was still asleep, and barely roused when I scooped her up from her mattress. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay. We’re going for a little ride. Shhh….go back to sleep.”

I took both of them with me back to my room, where I’d left my cell phone on top of Magda’s journal. “Who are you going to call?” Connor asked, anxiety causing his voice to squeak.

“911, bud. I’m just gonna call 911. They’ll know exactly what to do.”

Connor took the binoculars from me and rushed to the other side of the room, ripping open the French doors to the balcony. As soon as it opened, I could hear the wind howling outside like a wounded animal.

“911, what is your emergency?” The monotone voice crackling out of my cell phone startled me. This was the second time I’d had to make a call like this. Never in my life had I needed to call 911, and since I’d stepped foot on this island, I’d had to do it twice.

“A ship’s down. Off the coast of The Causeway. People are in the water. It looks like there’s some kind of fire.”

“The Causeway, ma’am? Causeway Island?”

“Yes.”

“Emergency rescue services have already been dispatched to the crippled ship, ma’am. Be advised, the coast guard is already on their way.”

“But how long until they get here? It looks bad. I don’t know how long they’ve got before the boat sinks.” My words were running together; it was a miracle she could even understand what I was saying.

“Any moment now, ma’am. Remain calm. If you require any further assistance, please call back immediately.”

“Thank you.” I hung up, not sure what to do next. I placed Amie, still sleeping, onto my bed and I went to find Connor out on the balcony.

“They’re going to drown,” he said, handing me the binoculars. “The waves are too big.” He was shaking, shivering so badly that his whole body was vibrating. “We have to do something.” The wind was tearing inland across the water, buffeting the cliffs below the house and racing upward, whipping Connor’s words away with them. I could hardly hear what he was saying. He was afraid, though. I could see the fear plainly in his eyes.