Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath (The Pulse Series Book 4) (20 page)

Rebecca was willing to do everything she could to help him avoid hitting any obstacles. It would do her no good if they ran the
Sarah J.
aground, so it was in her best interest to help Russell navigate while they were in dangerous waters with the sun setting soon. He pointed and yelled a half dozen times as he directed her to the areas of bluer-colored water that indicated sufficient depths. He had already retracted the centerboard, so as long as they had a bit more than four and a half feet of water they were good. But as they passed the north end of the island, Rebecca could see vast areas of green water with a white sand bottom, most of it far too shallow even for the
Casey Nicole
, never mind the
Sarah J.
 

Once they made through the cut to the southeast side of the cay, Russell came back to the cockpit and took the helm, turning the boat to the southwest now to aim for the larger cay they’d seen in the distance that was now visible without the binoculars. The engine had been running again to get them through the pass, but now Russell wanted to shut it down and sail.

“Keep us pointed directly at that other island,” he said, giving her back the wheel. “I’m going to kill the engine and get the sails back up. We can sail down there and find a place to anchor. There’s no shelter here at all if the wind picks up.”
 

She was steering almost into the setting sun now, the light making it hard to see anything. Russell had the main and jib set and had returned to the cockpit, where he stood on the edge of the deck looking at the first little island sliding by a quarter of a mile to the north. The wind was still out of the southeast, so the boat was on the port tack and heeled over in the direction of the island, putting Russell on the low side of the boat, his back to her as she steered. Rebecca didn’t know if it was the best chance she would get or not, but there might not be another before he forced her back to her cabin and locked her up. She didn’t ever want that to happen again, even if he probably would let her out again in the morning unharmed. There was a metal winch handle in it’s holder within easy reach, and Russell was too busy studying the island to notice when she leaned over to grab it with one hand. He had one hand on the bimini frame beside him, but his grip was relaxed and where he stood, the lifelines were touching his legs at about mid-thigh level. If she did this right, they wouldn’t stop him from going overboard.
 

Rebecca switched the winch handle to her stronger right hand and stepped up onto the cockpit seat, directly behind Russell. She swung the makeshift club with all her might, hitting him in the back of the head before he was aware she’d left the helm. The result was not what she’d expected. Instead of going right over the side into the water, Russell buckled a bit at the knees and reached up with his free hand to feel his head. As he did so, he turned to face her and she knew she had to act fast. She brought the winch handle back the other way in a backhand sweep that caught him in the side of the head this time, and before he could react she shoved him hard in the chest, sending him backwards over the lifelines.
 

The sails began flogging as the boat headed up into he wind with its helm unattended. Rebecca looked over the side first to make sure Russell wasn’t hanging on, then grabbed the wheel and fought to bring the boat back under control. She looked over her shoulder as it slowly moved away, and saw Russell’s head bobbing in the wake. The CO2 inflator had activated upon immersion, just like it was supposed to, and the PFD was keeping his head clear of the water as he drifted. But he still appeared to be unconscious or maybe even dead. If not for the PFD, she knew he likely would drown if he wasn’t dead, but with it, the wind and waves might eventually carry him to the shore of the little island.
 

Rebecca kept glancing back over her shoulder as she steered on the same course Russell had set to the other, larger island. She was shaking with adrenaline as she realized what she’d done. She was free of the man who had taken her captive, and she had her mom’s boat back! But it was going to be dark soon and she knew she had to stop somewhere for the night before she turned to sail back to Green Cay. She could not imagine navigating all night out here by herself. She needed more sleep first and she needed daylight to see where she was going. The other island Russell had wanted to go to seemed like a reasonable option. If there was indeed a place to anchor, she would do so, and in the morning she could start back to the northeast and try to find Green Cay.

Twenty-five

“T
HIS
IS
GETTING
RIDICULOUS
!” Tara said, as she paced the deck with yet another cup of coffee, her eyes scanning the horizon to the north for any sign of Larry and Jessica.

“It’s still three hours until sunset,” Artie said. “I’ll bet they’ll show up any minute now. It probably took longer than Larry expected to check the whole island.”

“He would have been back to get us by now if the boat was there. He hasn’t found it. That’s why he’s still out there. He’s looking in the wrong place and all this time that man is heading somewhere else, getting farther and farther away with my child! I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him! Every time I have it’s been a mistake!”

“I understand how you’re feeling, Tara. I really do. Believe me. When all this first happened all I could think about was finding Casey. I know she’s older than Rebecca, but she’s my only child too. And I never would have found her without Larry’s help. You’ve got to have faith in him. He knows what he’s doing.”

“I don’t have to have faith in anything!” Tara said. “After all this, how could you expect me to? All I can say is they better get back soon. I’m not sitting here waiting and waiting while Rebecca is being taken God knows where by that lunatic!”
 

Artie hoped it didn’t come to an argument with Tara over when they would leave, because he wasn’t planning on going anywhere without Jessica and his brother. He didn’t expect it to go that far though because he had plenty of faith in Larry whether Tara did or not. Larry would be back with Jessica soon. He knew it. And a shout from Casey confirmed it.

“There they are!”

“Well, we will know soon enough what they found then,” he said to Tara, as they all turned to see the tiny sail in the distance, slowly coming into focus as it approached.
 

“What are they doing now?” Grant asked, as the boat suddenly veered more to the west, angling away from the coast of the island instead of coming directly at them.
 

“Maybe just adjusting their course to take advantage of the wind?” Casey speculated.
 

Artie watched the dinghy with the others as it continued on this new course. It was still too far away to see Larry and Jessica clearly, but he waved at them anyway. For some reason they continued on the new course, as if they intended to give the catamaran a wide berth rather than sail directly to it. As the dinghy continued on, it passed within a quarter mile of the
Casey Nicole
, and when the two figures seated in it were no longer in the shadow of the sail, they could see that they were not Larry and Jessica.

“Someone has taken the dinghy!” Casey said.

Artie wished he had the binoculars Larry had taken with him, but even without them, he could see well enough to tell that the two occupants of the dinghy were men—both of them black men and likely Bahamian islanders.
But why? Why were these too strangers sailing the dinghy instead of Larry and Jessica?
Artie felt knots of fear in his stomach as he realized why the dinghy had veered away. Obviously, the two men who had taken it were not expecting to see the catamaran anchored there, and had changed course to avoid passing near it. Artie knew Larry would never give up that dinghy without a fight. If these men had managed to take it, what had they done to Larry and Jessica and where were they? There was only one way to find out.

“We’ve got to catch them!” he said.
 

“I’ll get the anchor up! Can you give me a hand, Casey?” Grant was already moving forward to the front trampoline.
 

“There’s no time!” Artie shouted, as he reached into the galley for a knife. I’ll just cut the rode. You and Casey get the main up! Tara, you take the helm! We can catch them if we get going now!”
 

Artie didn’t hesitate to slice the nylon rode attached to the
Casey Nicole’s
best anchor. It would have taken an extra 10 or 15 minutes to haul it in by hand and that was 10 or 15 minutes they didn’t have. As soon as Grant and Casey had the main set, Artie set to work on the jib halyard. Tara brought the helm over to fill the main and the catamaran was moving. When Artie glanced out at the dinghy, he saw that the two men had reacted to the sight of the sails going up and had turned to the northwest, running before the wind away from them as fast as they could go.
 

“Let’s get the foresail and staysail up too. We need to put on everything we’ve got!”
 

The catamaran was moving well and would pick up speed fast, but the dinghy had a good head start and it was out in better wind, far from the lee of the island where the
Casey Nicole
had been anchored. With that breeze, the little boat was still gaining on them, but Artie figured that would change once they got the catamaran a little farther out.
 

“They’re heading straight for a line of shoals!” Grant yelled from where he was perched by the shrouds on the port side cabin top. “Check the charts! I’m not sure we can get over them! I can’t tell if it’s just sandbars or reefs!”
 

Artie scrambled for the chart book in a panic as he told Tara to just stay on course until he said otherwise. He had not paid close attention to what was in their immediate vicinity since Larry had prior knowledge of these waters and it had been his decision to anchor where they did. Thankfully, Larry didn’t take the chart book with him, but it took Artie several minutes to find the right page and then pinpoint their approximate location.
 

“They’re going on across! Maybe it’s deep enough!” Grant shouted from the cabin top.

When he finally found the shoal area Grant had to be seeing, he saw that it was a large area of sandbars and shallow reefs, stretching almost all the way between Staniel Cay and several small low cays not far away to the west. Although much of the area showed three or four feet, there were hazards less than two feet deep in spots. Larry had said the dinghy drew even more than the catamaran with the centerboard down, but as the two men in it were running almost straight downwind, they didn’t necessarily need the centerboard. If it was raised, the little boat could skim along in mere inches of water. Artie didn’t know what else to do but take a chance. They needed to catch those guys to find out what happened to Larry and Jessica.
 

Tara was saying nothing, just steering with a look of grim determination on her face. Artie didn’t know how she felt now, but he figured it couldn’t be good. He stood there beside her, a rifle in his hand for when they closed the gap to effective range.
 

“Shoals coming up!” Grant yelled. “Cut it to port a bit!”
 

Artie held his breath as they sliced into an area of clear white sand, the water over it so clear it was almost as if it wasn’t there. The next thing he knew he was flying forward across the cockpit until he landed at the base of the foremast, a sharp pain in his upper right arm where it had struck something solid. The boat had plowed into the sand and come to a sudden stop. Only Tara had managed to keep her feet, hanging on to the wheel through it all. When Artie scanned the decks around him he saw that Grant and Casey were still on board, but were sprawled on the forward deck of the port hull.
 

“Are you okay?” he asked, directing his question at both of them.
 

“I think so,” Casey said.

“Damn! I didn’t see that in time,” Grant said.
 

“I didn’t hear anything break. It must have been just sand.”

“It is,” Tara said. Artie saw her step up onto the cockpit seat, looking around the boat on boat sides. “It looks like we ran smack onto a big sandbar.”
 

Grant and Casey were on their feet and Grant was standing up on the highest part of the cabin top again.
 

“They’re getting away! It looks like they’re headed to one of those little islands out there.”
 

“We’ll never catch them now,” Artie said. “We’re hard aground.”

“We’ve got to get it off,” Casey said. “We’ve got to go look for Larry and Jessica.”
 

“Maybe I can get an anchor out off the stern and we can pull it back to deep water the way we came.”

“Maybe. But now we’re missing our best anchor too. I wish I hadn’t cut the rode now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Grant said. “We’ve still got three more and plenty of line.”

“The tide is about its lowest right now,” Tara said. “Just our luck. We could have gotten over it at high tide, I’ll bet.”

“Well, since we didn’t, we’re in luck. It
is
low. At least we know we’ve got more water coming in if we can’t get off now.”

“I don’t know how you can call it lucky. There’s nothing lucky about any of this. Now we still don’t know if Rebecca and my boat is at Staniel Cay or not, and even if they were when Larry and Jessica got there, they may not be now.”
 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant lucky with the state of the tide. Believe me, I don’t think there’s anything ‘lucky’ about this. My brother and Jessica could be dead, for all we know.”

“Don’t say that!” Casey said. “I don’t want to think about losing Uncle Larry—or Jessica! Maybe they’re okay. They’re probably on Staniel Cay now, and needing a ride. As soon as we get the boat off, we can go find them.”

“I know, Casey. I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t imagine how anyone could have taken the boat from them. I wouldn’t have expected Larry to go ashore. But then again, maybe he found that house Russell was talking about. Maybe that’s how it got stolen.”