Undertow (10 page)

“Don't you look domestic,” he joked, walking around behind us to put his arms around us both.

“Who?” Decker asked, releasing my hand to open the cabinet of plates. “Her or me?”

“Both of you, actually. Aesa, I never pegged you for the type to look so at home in the kitchen, and yet you do. Will wonders never cease?”

“Just trying to look the part.”

“Super. So, Martha Stewart, when do we eat? I'm starving.”

“Glad to see you're feeling better now. Go sit down. It'll be ready in a minute.”

He did as he was told and tucked himself into the banquette, awaiting his meal. I returned my focus to the preparations at hand, but I could feel Decker's gaze landing heavily on the side of my face. I stole a glance over at him to see him whisper the words “talk later” on his lips. I nodded once in agreement.

After dinner was ready, I fixed two plates and disappeared up to the captain's room before the others came in. I wanted to be as far away from Damon as I could while I sorted out how to approach the subject with my father. Even though I had said I wanted to wait until the storm was over, I didn't know if I could. The whole situation felt too unsettling not to say something, storm or not. However, I wanted to be sure to bring it up as delicately as possible, given the potentially dire circumstances we were likely to be in. Decker was a witness, so it wasn't that my father wouldn't believe me, but the storm bearing down on us had him stressed out already, and I didn't want to increase that any more than necessary. I had recognized the second I laid eyes on him back at my childhood home that his health wasn't as good as it could have been, and I didn't want to contribute to its decline if I could avoid it.

He turned to acknowledge me only briefly when I entered. After I placed his plate of food in front of him, his eyes returned to the sea, a constant crease of worry indenting his brow as he assessed how best to navigate her wrath. He'd sailed for many years and was one of the most accomplished captains in the fleet, but he knew when Mother Nature was about to bring the pain. By the look on his face, she was bringing a baseball bat with her.

“Dad, I was hoping I could—”

“Aesa, I'm sorry,” he said abruptly, cutting me off. “I have a lot on my mind right now. This hurricane . . . ” He let his words trail off without completion, but I knew what he was getting at. If it stayed the course, it would be the worst the Alaskan crabbers had seen in decades.

“I'll go,” I whispered, retrieving my plate from the small table beside me.

“No—please stay. I just can't talk right now.”

“Okay, Dad. I'll stay.”

Though I didn't know why, he apparently found comfort in my presence, so I did as he asked, sitting silently beside him, his mute copilot, as he did what he could to evade the worst of the storm. It was going to be a long night for us, especially him. Lives depended on his course of action.

Mine would prove to be no exception.

As he picked at his food, his eyes rarely deviating from the sea before him, I realized that his determination knew no bounds. He was as headstrong as I was, and in that moment it was a highly desirable trait. He would lead us to safety if it was the last thing he ever did. That thought brought a smile to my face as I watched him.

When I heard the boys downstairs preparing to head back out, I got up to leave and join them.

“Be careful, Aesa,” my father said, daring to steal a backward glance at me. My smile widened slightly.

“Of course,” I replied. “And don't worry, Dad. You'll keep us safe. I know it.”

With that, I sped my way down the stairs and into the locker room to suit up and join the others who had already made their way on deck. On my way, I realized that I had meant those words I told my father. He would see us through the storm. Of that I had no doubt.

10

Only a short while after we finished on deck, the storm blew in with reckless abandon. The crew had retired to their bunks, hoping to sleep through the brunt of what Mother Nature had in store for us, but their efforts were in vain. There would be no sleeping. Instead, there would be chaos.

I awoke in my bed to a horrible reality. The blaring sound of the engine alarm jarred me from my sleep. I was met with a pitch-black room and an inescapable sense of doom. It was then that I realized that my bunk was on an angle, nearly forcing me to roll out of it. The boat was listing heavily to the port side. With dead engines and hurricane-level winds accompanying the storm, I knew we were sitting ducks. Before I could even react, a wave slammed into the starboard side, knocking us perilously close to a ninety-degree angle.

The force of the wave ejected me from my bed, throwing me into the door. My back and head immediately throbbed from the impact, but I had no time to dwell on those injuries. I had bigger issues to address. With the pitch of the boat, I was nearly standing on the door. The room was closet-sized, so there was nowhere to maneuver to get out of the way of the door in order to make my escape. Every time I attempted something, I crashed back to the door that threatened to incarcerate me, sending me to a watery grave.

Not knowing what else to do, I screamed, praying that someone would hear me over the eardrum-shattering noise of the engine alarm. My father would be down below, attempting to bring the boat back to life. Robbie, his most skilled engineer, would be with him. The others would be doing all they could to lessen the weight on deck, making every attempt to help the boat right itself before it was too late—too late for us all.

Panic set in upon me, despite my every effort to stifle it. As I pounded and cried for help, thinking all hope was lost, I suddenly heard a faint voice calling for me between the whooping sounds the alarm continually made. With every ounce of energy I had left, I stomped on the door and screamed for help, telling whoever it was where I could be found. Seconds later, he was at my door.

“Aesa? Aesa, we have to get on deck. Now,” Decker yelled through the door.

“I can't get out! I'm trapped,” I shouted back, feeling my throat tighten as I admitted those words aloud.

“Can you get away from the door?”

“I think so. Give me a second,” I replied, scaling the dresser along the wall to stand on top of its side, which had nearly become its top edge. It was my only means to get out of the way, though precarious. “Okay! I'm clear.”

He kicked in the door like it was nothing, lying against the hallway wall for leverage. When I saw the concern in his eyes, I knew things were as bad as I'd feared.

“Climb down,” he ordered reaching for me from a precarious stance in the hall. I did as he bade, nearly falling on top of him as I fought to get my footing acclimated to our tilted surroundings. “We have to get you into a survival suit, Aesa,” he said, grabbing my hand to help me navigate the treacherous galley. We fumbled our way to the gear-changing area just shy of the deck.

“Where's my father?” I asked as he threw the bright red neoprene suit at me before grabbing one for himself. I struggled into it, wishing I had had more clothing on than my long underwear and a thermal henley.

“The engine room.”

“And the others?”

“Andy and Damon are on the stack, cutting the ties. We're too top heavy. We're dropping pots.”

“Will it be enough?” I asked in earnest. When his piercing brown eyes met mine, I could see that it wouldn't.

“Get your suit on. Now,” he barked, zipping his up to nearly cover his face while I was still fighting to get my arms into mine. I was half sitting, half leaning against the wall behind me, my feet propped up on a bench, which made it nearly impossible to accomplish the task.

Everything about our predicament was unsettling, not the least of which was the fact that my father and Robbie were in the worst place possible. If the boat started to take on water, the engine room would be the first to flood, not allowing them any chance of escape. The thought stopped me cold.

As my mind started to break, Decker appeared before me and started stuffing my various limbs where they needed to go, zipping my suit up to my chin. He was talking to me, but I couldn't hear his words. My mind was too far gone to process them.

“I have to get my dad,” I mumbled, starting to walk away from him.

“No, you're going to stay right here—with me. They know what they're doing, Aesa. Your father is the best skipper in the fleet. He would never jeopardize his life or those of his crew. He'll know when to come up.”

Before I could argue, another punishing wave crashed over us, nearly taking Andy off the stack with it. Decker looked torn momentarily, wanting to help his crewmate.

“Go!” I yelled to him. “They need you!”

His expression was pained, but he knew I was right. I was relatively safe, tucked away from the brunt of the storm. If the boat started sinking, I would be able to get clear of it and into the water, hopefully able to ultimately reach the life raft.

I watched the muscles in his jaw work frantically until he grabbed me by my arms and pulled my face close to his.

“You stay here. Right here,” he yelled. “Right here. I'll be back.”

He grabbed the massive rope they had rigged to the starboard rail and climbed his way up the deck. I watched as he struggled his way over to the stack, all the while clinging to the rail that was nearly parallel to the water below. If he slipped, he would fall to the heaving seas below, hitting all sorts of unforgiving equipment along the way. One mistake and it was certain death.

Huddled against the wall, I watched the men work feverishly to release the load that burdened the boat further, praying that my father and Robbie were making progress with the engines that had failed. I felt helpless, an unwelcome sensation I'd long ago tried to escape. Preparation and knowledge had served to keep me from feeling that way for many years, but in that moment I was little more than an incidental, a possible casualty of a war I was ill-prepared to fight. I felt bile rise at the thought.

A ruckus to my right alerted me to the fact that Robbie was on his way out to the deck, my father not far behind him.

“Christ, Aesa, I told Decker to keep you safe!” Robbie shouted at me as he pulled his survival suit on in a matter of seconds.

“He had to help the others; I told him to go.”

“Aesa,” my father called, pausing to look at me while he pulled his suit up. “We will be okay. Do not be afraid.”

“The Coast Guard is on their way. They were already at sea, looking for any potential survivors from another vessel. It went down not long before our engines failed. We don't know if any survived.” Robbie gave me a nervous wink to comfort me before he continued. “But we will.” He then pulled himself out onto the deck, following the path that Decker had taken only moments earlier.

“Dad,” I started, wanting to say so many things and finding myself completely unable to.

“Aesa,” he said, picking up where I had left off. “You are my princess. You've always been, even if I did not know how to show you. You blame me for your mother's death—I know that. But you could never punish me more than I punish myself for that. My life is not the same without her, and it won't be the same without you. This boat will likely sink tonight, but you, Aesa, will not go down with it. I will not lose my queen and my princess both. The sea will not be that greedy.”

I said nothing, allowing the tears to flow down my face and pool in the mask of my survival suit that he leaned forward to zip over my face, allowing only my eyes to remain exposed.

“I'm going back down to the engine room. You will do as the boys tell you, understood? You will not come looking for me. You will do whatever you need to. There is one more thing I need to try before I give up.” He started to disappear back into the boat, and I felt my heart seize.

“Dad—” I called after him, stopping him just before he was out of sight. “
Jeg elsker deg
.”

He smiled.

“I love you too, Aesa.”

11

The sound of a distant helicopter snapped me from my growing hysteria. I wanted to go down and tell my father to come back up, that we were about to be saved, but a hand on my arm dragged me out to the deck instead.

“Aesa,” Decker shouted over the massive noise surrounding us. “You need to climb to the rail. They won't be able to get to you from in here. You have to come out. I want you to go first and I'll be right behind you. I won't let you fall.”

I looked deep into his eyes and knew he was right. Though every fiber of my being wanted to stay in the sheltered cove by the door, I couldn't. He was taking a calculated risk with both of our lives, but it needed to be taken. The way the ship was continuing to list, we didn't have long. A few more rogue waves and the Queen would fall from grace with Decker and I in tow. I couldn't let that happen.

Pulling myself together, I did as he said, nodding once in understanding. I eyed the dubious rope, doing my best to get to it gracefully, but inevitably crashing into everything around me as the boat suddenly lurched to the starboard side, a welcome change from our near-capsized status. It was only a few degrees, but it was a step in the right direction. If my father could get the engines going, and the waves continued to work in our favor, we might possibly live to see another day.