Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath (The Pulse Series Book 4) (23 page)

She looked over the other side and it was the same there too. When she made her way to the bow, she saw that the water was shallower in front of the boat than beside it. In fact it looked like it was only inches deep farther ahead. She had run smack into a huge sandbar, and there was no way the
Sarah J.
could have floated over it or missed it on the course she was sailing. The only way Rebecca could see to get off was to go back the way she came, but how? The boat was already stuck, and it was not budging. It was still leaning way over just the same as it had been when under sail. She didn’t know if the full sails would make it worse or not, but she was afraid to try and take them down with so much wind, because she knew you were supposed to head into the wind to do that, to make it easier. All she could think of to try that might help was to start the engine and see if the boat would go backwards under power.

She knew how to start the diesel. That was one of the things her grandpa had shown her that stuck over time. But she also knew that Captain Larry said it didn’t need to be running until he fixed it. He said it would burn it up to use it, but Russell had done it anyway and nothing bad had happened so far. She decided it would be okay to try it and see if she could go backwards with it. If it worked, she would turn it off again and use the sails.
 

It cranked like it was supposed to when she turned the key and pushed the button. She went back up the cockpit to the engine controls beside the helm and moved the shifter lever to reverse, and then she revved it up slowly to see what would happen. She could feel a lot of vibration through the hull and she could see that the prop was turning strong by all the silt it stirred up in the clear water. But nothing else was happening. The boat wasn’t moving. She moved the throttle lever to the wide-open position and even more turbulence was created around the hull, but the boat still wouldn’t move. She tried turning the wheel back and forth as the engine pulled, hoping to make it break free of the sand, but the only think that happened was that something got really hot. That was obvious by the smoke pouring out of the exhaust at the stern. She quickly pulled the throttle back down to slow it and shut the engine off. Backing up wasn’t going to work.
 

If Captain Larry was on board, Rebecca knew that he would know if the state of the tide was high or low. He kept track of it in his head and seemed to always know when it was coming in and going out. But she had not been paying attention to it and neither had Russell, as far as she knew. Captain Larry would have been keeping notes in the logbook during the entire passage, but Russell seemed to care less about such things, if he even knew how to do them.
 

Thinking about Russell again suddenly sent a chill of fear down her spine. It looked far away, but she could still see the little island they had been sailing past when she knocked him overboard. And if she could see it from where she was stuck, then she was sure anyone on that island could see the
Sarah J.
as well. While she had kind of hoped he would wash up on the island rather than die, it now terrified her to think that he might actually have. What if he came to and survived and then saw the boat out there aground and helpless? Could he possibly swim that far? Rebecca didn’t know, but he did have the PFD, so she thought he probably could, and he would be really motivated to do it. He would want to get her back for what she’d done, and the boat would be his only chance of getting off the island.
 

This new fear gave her a renewed sense of urgency; not to get the boat unstuck, which she knew she couldn’t do, but to get at the rifle Russell had locked away in the cockpit locker. She knew he had the key that had been hanging on the bulkhead. It was probably in a pocket in his shorts when he went over the side. Whether it still was or not didn’t matter. That one was gone for good, but she was sure her grandpa must have had a spare hidden away somewhere and she had to find it. She had a feeling she would need the rifle, whether to fend off Russell or someone else who might arrive in another boat. Without it she was helpless and exposed, an easy target out there in the wide open. It would soon be dark though, so she felt that gave her extra time to find it. Even if Russell was alive and had made it to the island, maybe he wouldn’t try to swim out there until morning.
 

It was weird going down below with the boat heeled over so far, yet not moving. She would have to live on it at that uncomfortable angle but she knew she would get used to it. At least she had a place to sleep and plenty of food and water. There was probably enough to last her for weeks, but she wondered if even that would be enough. She’d seen enough in the little sailing she’d done to know that when boats were hard aground like the
Sarah J.
was now, they generally required assistance from larger boats to get free again. She knew she might never get it off without help, unless she was lucky enough that the tide was at its lowest and enough water would come back in to float her free. Thinking of that, she decided that no matter how tired she was, she had to make herself wake up every couple hours or so to check. She did not want to sleep through the high tide cycle if one came during the night. It might be her best and only chance to get out of this mess before the wind or a storm made it worse, or Russell made his way out there to get his revenge.

Getting up to check the water level through the night only brought her more disappointment when she discovered that it had not been high tide when she hit the sandbar. She guessed it was somewhere in between, because although the water level rose a few inches between midnight and dawn, it was even lower than the evening before by the time the sun came up. She had tried the engine again in the dark when it seemed the highest but had no better luck than the first time.
 

While she was awake, however, she had discovered the spare key to the padlock Russell put on the cockpit locker. It was tucked away in a small box in the drawer of the Nav station, and when she tried it the lock opened immediately. The rifle was inside the locker, just as she’d thought. She lifted it out. It was heavy, but fairly short. Rebecca didn’t know much about guns, but she knew that if it was loaded, and she was sure it was, all she had to do was flip the switch from “safe” to “fire” to make it shoot. If she saw Russell swimming her way, she intended to do just that.

When the sun was high enough the next morning to reflect off the white sand of the beach he might have swum to if he survived, Rebecca scanned the island with her grandpa’s binoculars, but saw no movement. There were large rocks on parts of the little island, and she knew he might be behind one, if he was there at all, but since she didn’t see him she studied the waves between her and the island instead, looking for anything that could be a swimmer coming her way. She was tired from staying up all night, and dozed off on the cockpit seat when she saw nothing out there. But when she woke up a half hour later and checked again there
was
something. But it wasn’t what she was looking for, and it wasn’t between her and the little island, or on it, but far beyond it, on the other side.
It was a sail!
And as she studied it through the binoculars for several more minutes, she was certain that it was coming her way.

Twenty-nine

S
CULLY
WAS
AT
THE
helm of
Intrepida
, steering east-southeast in the direction of a tiny cay they could see on the horizon in the midmorning sun. They had anchored near an equally small one some five miles to the northwest, and had set out at first light on this new course, which the chart showed would take them to the main islands in the Jumentos chain. The sight of this next little cay right where it was supposed to be confirmed the course was good. Scully asked Thomas to take the helm while he went forward to the base of the mast on the cabin top with the binoculars. He knew one could never be too careful in these reef-strewn waters, and he wanted to keep a good lookout as they passed near the cay. It would be easier to spot the shoals as the sun got higher, but aboard such a shallow draft vessel, Scully wasn’t especially worried.
 

They were within a half-mile or so of the cay and he was scanning the horizon beyond for the next one after it when he spotted something totally unexpected—
a sail!
It was far away and even with the binoculars he could not make out the hull beneath it, but from the angle it pointed at the sky he was sure that it was not a catamaran. Only a monohull sailboat would heel that far over. If it was an average sized-cruiser, he doubted they would catch it in the little seventeen-footer, and he was surprised he had not seen it sooner. At least he knew it was there though, and they would keep an eye out for it as they worked their way down the Jumentos chain. To be here sailing the course they were apparently sailing, the crew of this other boat had to be seeking out these islands, and would probably anchor somewhere along the way. Scully returned to the cockpit, telling Thomas to keep the same course he was steering.

“I hope they’re friendly folks if we run into them somewhere ahead,” Thomas said.
 

“Only got to watch out an’ see. Maybe we knowin’ soon, mon.”

Mindy was in the cockpit with them now, having made them all tea from the rapidly dwindling stores of such luxuries aboard
Intrepida
.
 

“The water here is even more beautiful than at Andros. I didn’t think that could be possible,” she said.

“We finally made it to the real Out Islands of the Bahamas,” Thomas said. “It would be awesome if it were the pleasure cruise we’d dreamed of.”

“We’ll make the best of it anyway. At least we’re safe here.”

“I hope,” Thomas said.
 

Scully checked the distant sailboat again and was surprised to see that they seemed to be getting a bit closer to it. He wasn’t sure how the other boat could be sailing that slow on the same course they were, but he knew too that the distance could play tricks on the eye and that it might take another hour to really know if they were gaining on it or not. He passed the binoculars to Mindy when she asked for them, saying she wanted to look at the nearby island. They would pass within a half-mile of it, but from what Scully had already seen, there was nothing of interest there; only barren sand and a few big rocks.
 

“Hey! There’s somebody on that island!” Mindy said. “Somebody is waving at us!”
 

Scully found this hard to believe, but when she gave him the binoculars and he looked for himself, he saw that it was true. A lone figure was standing on one of the highest rocks, waving something red back and forth over his head. He had to be a castaway, but how did he get here? As Scully watched the man continued his waving, while also running and hopping about with an apparent limp.
 

“He must be stranded,” Mindy said. “Should we help him?”

“It might be a trap,” Thomas said. “Maybe he’s just trying to lure us in. Can you tell if he’s armed or not, Scully?”

“Can’t see nothing, mon. He got somet’ing I t’ink is only de life jacket.”
 

Scully turned the glasses back to the distant boat, and saw that it was now closer to them than ever.
 

“I t’ink dat sailboat, she on de ground, mon. Mehbe dis fellow, he fallin’ off an’ he boat go on de reef.”

“Can you tell if there’s anyone on the boat?”

“Too far. All I see is de main and jib up. Should be sailin’ fast wid de wind in de sail like dat, but de boat she don’t move. Got to be on de bottom, mon.”

“That’s got to be it!” Mindy said. “If the guy on the island has a life jacket, he’s bound to be a sailor. He must have fallen overboard. We can’t just leave him. He’ll die on that little island. There’s nothing there. I’ll bet he’s already suffering from thirst.”

“Lotta people dem dyin’ dese days, you know. Can’t help dem all. Too many.”

“We would have died too, if not for you, Scully. You helped us. Now I want to help someone else. Maybe just for the good karma, I don’t know. Besides, this man is clearly a sailor, just like us. Maybe we can take him to his boat.”

“If de boat she hard aground, not gonna get it off wid only dis little boat an’ no diesel to pull.”

“Yeah, but even if we can’t, he’ll have a chance of survival on his boat. You know he won’t last long on that little island,” Thomas said.
 

Scully thought about what they were saying. His life just kept getting more complicated, but helping Thomas and Mindy had proven beneficial to him in the long run. He was here at least; in the island chain that he knew was Larry’s eventual destination. And he would certainly not be here now if not for Thomas and Mindy. He shrugged his shoulders and handed the binoculars to her. It wouldn’t hurt to at least sail closer and see what the situation was. The AK was close at hand if it were indeed some kind of a trap, but Scully didn’t think it was. From everything he’d seen, it was pretty obvious what had happened here. He asked Mindy to keep an eye on the man with the binoculars while he steered closer to see if they could find a place to anchor near the island.
 

Shallow sandy flats extended a good two hundred yards out from the beach though, and between that area and deep water was a line of reefs with a light surf break. There would be no way to get any closer with
Intrepida
, so Scully headed up into the wind while Thomas dropped the sails. Scully then set the anchor just outside the surf zone. From this point they could hear the man on the island calling out to them to please help him.

“Okay, I goin’ in de kayak an’ see what he say. I can pick him up an’ bring him back to de boat if everyt’ing okay. You both need watchin’ what he doin’ an’ look for trouble. Don’t t’ink it’s gonna be a problem but you can’t be too careful, you know.”
 

Scully pulled the kayak alongside
Intrepida
and stepped in, putting the AK in the cockpit between his feet before Thomas passed him his paddle and he set off for the island. The surf between him and the beach was an obstacle, but he was able to read the waves to pick a route through a cut in the reef and soon reached the calm shallows inside. The stranded man had limped to the water’s edge to greet him before he could step out of the kayak.