Sed sounded calm, as if being struck by lightning wasn’t a big deal. As if the lights going out unexpectedly was romantic instead of terrifying. As if they weren’t in peril. Jessica tried to cling to his calm, but her racing heart wasn’t having it.
Her hand tightened on Sed’s as she hoped his strength would seep into her. “What should we do?”
“Wait until the storm passes and then assess the damage.”
“Wait?” She wasn’t good at waiting. She needed to know what they were up against now.
“If we go out now, one of us could be washed overboard or worse.”
“Worse? What could be worse than that?”
“Being struck by lightning.”
Yes, that would be worse, but it would be quick. Drowning would be a miserable, panicky sort of death.
Sed drew her closer and kissed her head. “We’ll be fine,” he said. “I won’t let anything harm you or the baby.”
She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing and probably cutting off his air supply in her terror, but she let his words sink in, deep into her heart and soul. After several moments, she allowed herself to believe his reassurances and began to relax.
Once her death grip loosened slightly, Sed shifted away from her, and terror gripped her chest once more. His hand remained on her shoulder, even when she heard a cabinet open next to the bed. Something cool and heavy landed on top of her.
“Put this on,” he said.
“What is it?”
“A life vest.”
Another life vest? Did she need it? They were safe below deck, weren’t they? He’d told her that they didn’t have to wear the preservers when they were in the cabin. His hand left her shoulder. Gasping with fear, she reached out and found him putting on his own life vest. So they must not be safe.
“Do you need help?” he asked as he clicked buckles into place.
She scrambled to put her vest on, but couldn’t figure out which way was up or down, front or back, much less how to fasten the buckles. “I can’t see what I’m doing.”
He assisted her by feel, and when they were both securely trussed up in the bulky contraptions, he pulled her back into his arms, tucking her head under his chin and sheltering her in his embrace. Even when the life vest began to get uncomfortably hot, she didn’t move from the security of his hold.
They lay in the absolute darkness, tangled tightly in each other’s arms, for hours. Or days. It felt like days. Thunder rumbled, lightning crackled, the wind howled, the ocean roared, and the boat creaked and groaned under the strain, but as long as she could feel Sed’s warm skin beneath her palm and hear the steadiness of his breath, Jessica had hope. As the storm intensified, the boat rose higher and fell lower, rolling so severely that it threatened to tumble them from the bed onto the floor, but still they lay waiting for the calm. She’d never prayed so hard in her life.
Eventually the rocking began to still, the thunder faded, and the boat quieted as if it had fallen asleep after a trying ordeal. Only then did Sed sit up and push the covers from their legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I probably bruised you by holding you so tight.”
She’d been holding onto him just as tightly. “I didn’t mind,” she said. “It kept me from totally freaking out.”
“Me too,” he said, squeezing her wrist.
“You weren’t freaked out,” she said. “Not even a little.”
“Believe that if you must.”
She did believe it. She had to. “Is it over?” she asked.
“I think so. I’ll go check.”
There was no way she was letting him out of reach. He was her lifeline. Her life. “I’m coming with you.”
Something thunked, and Sed cursed in the darkness. “I thought this boat was supposed to have an emergency backup generator,” he grumbled.
“Could lightning wipe that out?”
“Only if it fried the entire electrical system.”
She had a sinking feeling that it had done exactly that. How would they get back to shore if all the electric gadgets and doodads that raised the sails and helped Sed navigate had been rendered useless? Her feet found the floor, and she shuffled in the direction she’d last seen the door, using a hand on the edge of the bed for guidance. When she ran out of mattress, she reached out and found smooth warm flesh. Sed’s arm. He took her hand, and the blind led the blind out of the bedroom and into the lounge. It was equally dark out there, but with slow steps and a few stubbed toes, they ventured forward. At the top of the steps, Sed wrestled with the hatch door until it finally released and swung open. Cool air rushed over Jessica’s face, and the light from a fading sun made her blink. It was near sunset, and the dark bank of clouds further muted the limited light. Soon it would be pitch black outside without even starlight to guide them.
“The mast looks fine.” Sed craned his neck to peer up at the tallest structure for miles, which had undoubtedly served as a lightning rod in the storm. “The antenna has seen better days, however.”
Antenna? How important could that be? It wasn’t as if they had to listen to the radio to survive.
Sed moved to the cockpit, walking gingerly on the slippery deck. Every inch of the boat was drenched, and Jessica was surprised they’d been able to stay completely dry below deck. The hatch had done an excellent job of sealing out the elements.
Sed fiddled with gadgets, but the entire instrument panel was dead.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Jessica said, staring at the dark screen of the navigation device as if sheer will would fix it.
“Sailors have been navigating the seas without fancy electronics for centuries,” he said.
“So you know how to get us home?”
He licked his lips and smacked the side of the screen with his palm. It didn’t respond. “Of course. First thing we need to do is figure out which way is north. My dad showed me how to navigate by the sun and stars.”
Jessica turned her gaze skyward at the blanket of clouds that concealed the entire sky. “I don’t think stars are an option,” she said.
“Well, the sun is setting portside, so that means land is that way.” He pointed to the right side of the boat.
“But how far?” And where along the Californian coast would they end up?
“It can’t be too far. We only sailed about an hour out.”
But they’d been drif
ting at the mercy of the storm for many times that long.
“I think we should call for help,” Jessica said.
“I’ve got this,” he said, turning the ignition key. The engine didn’t respond. Not even after Sed’s pleading, “Come on, baby.”
“Can we call for help now?”
Sed released a heavy sigh, as if he didn’t think they needed assistance, and said, “If it will make you feel better, I’ll send out a distress call.” He switched on the radio knob, but like every other electronic device on the boat, the radio didn’t respond.
The nervous jitters in Jessica’s belly shifted into crippling fear, and she sank into the captain’s seat. The cold pool of water that had collected there made her shriek.
“Radio’s out. Navigation’s out. Engine’s nonresponsive. Sails are down and”—Sed flicked a switch—“the electric winches are dead.”
“We’re screwed.”
“Someone will find us.”
“No one knows where we are.”
“I called my mom before we left.”
“But you told her we were sailing out to the barrier islands. There’s no telling where we are right now.”
Sed tapped the compass on the boat’s dash. “Look at this crazy thing,” he said, as if they’d run out of gas next to the filling station pump and had nothing to worry about. “It says that way is east.” He pointed out at the orange streak of the setting sun along the horizon. “But that’s obviously west. Unless the planet suddenly shifted on its axis.”
Maybe it had. Jessica’s world certainly felt off-kilter. She blew out a breath, trying to come up with a solution to their problem.
“Cellphones,” she said, hopping to her feet and hurrying to the steps.
“Good thinking.”
She peered into the inky darkness of the cabin below. “Damn, it’s dark down there. Do you have a flashlight?”
“Dad probably stowed one around here somewhere.”
He was so cool, she was surprised fog wasn’t forming over his skin.
She didn’t know if her husband was in denial or was seconds from completely losing his mind. How could he possibly be so calm? They could die out there.