The boy only cried in response to her question. It looked as though the frame of the short, angled front windows was across his chest, probably breaking some of his ribs, and she could see a gash on his thigh. A small amount of blood had pooled on the pier beneath his leg.
She squeezed the boy’s hand.
“I’ll be right back, honey,” she said.
“I
want to check on your mommy. “
She crawled on her stomach toward the stem of the boat where the woman was pinned. She could not quite reach her, but managed to get her arm under the boat far enough to touch her fingers to the woman’s throat, where she felt for a pulse. Beneath her fingertips, the pulse was faint and irregular, but at least the woman was still alive. How she was pinned, though, Daria couldn’t determine. If her legs were crushed and they raised the boat from her body, she could die within seconds.
But they had little choice at this point. They had to lift this boat, or both the woman and her son would perish beneath it.
“They’re both alive,” she shouted as she slipped from beneath the boat and raised herself to her knees. Rain whipped against her face, and when she spoke, the three men leaned close to hear her.
“You guys try to lift the boat enough for me to pull them out, okay?” She saw Shelly running from the house toward them.
“What did they say?” Daria called to her.
“It’s too windy, they said. If it dies down, they’ll send an ambulance.”
“What do they mean, it’s too windy?” Andy’s neighbor said.
“They’ve got to send one!”
“Right now,” Daria said to the man, “put your energy and your anger and your fear into lifting this boat. Come on. Shelly. You can help, too.”
She had seen it before, even in herself, that superhuman strength that coursed through otherwise normal men and women in the moment of crisis, so she wasn’t surprised when the three men and Shelly were able to lift the boat by a few inches. Daria dived beneath it, grabbing the little boy and pulling him clear of the boat. “Can you hold it up another minute?” she asked as she scrambled toward the stem for the woman.
“It’s coming down!” Andy yelled.
“Get out, Daria. Get out!”
Daria quickly retreated from beneath the boat just as it rocked back onto the pier. It caught her right index finger, and she stifled a scream. Her finger would be badly swollen and bruised within minutes, but that injury was nothing compared to what this boy and his mother were enduring.
She felt torn between attending to the boy and trying to extricate the mother, but the light of her flashlight on the boy’s pale face told her how desperately he needed her attention. The pressure of the boat must have been serving as a tourniquet of sorts, and now the blood gushed freely from his leg.
“Shelly!” She tore off her windbreaker.
“Come here and press this against his leg.”
Shelly knelt next to the boy, her hands over the windbreaker.
“Press hard,” Daria said.
“Really hard. It’s the only way to stop the bleeding.” She turned back to the boat and positioned herself near the stem.
Rory grabbed her shoulder.
“You can’t go under there again,” he said.
“It’s too hard for us to hold the boat up. You nearly got crushed last time.”
“You just have to hold it up longer.” She dropped to her knees and realized she was kneeling in several inches of water. Panic coursed through her. The sound was rising far too quickly for comfort.
“On the count of three!” Rory shouted.
“One … two… three.” Daria saw the hull of the boat rise up in front of her. She dived beneath it, grasping the woman’s clothing with her hands and tugging backward, but suddenly the water poured over the woman’s face, trapping her.
Drowning her. Daria found herself in the middle of one of her nightmares. She could not truly see the woman’s face, could not see brown eyes or a widow’s peak, but in her mind the woman became the young, dying pilot. Thrashing with her arms beneath the boat, she reached for the woman’s clothing once more. Water splashed into her own face just as she was taking a breath, and she had to let go, choking and coughing. Someone’s hands were on her, pulling her out from beneath the boat, and she gagged as she struggled to catch her breath. In an instant, a wall of water swept onto the pier, lifting the boat, and Daria saw Rory plow beneath the stem, pulling the unconscious woman to safety before she was dragged into the sound.
“Get them off the pier!” Andy said, and Daria saw that Shelly was already doing that, carrying the little boy in her arms, through the rising water on the pier, to the driveway and away from the sound.
Daria struggled to get to her feet, and could only do so with Andy’s help. Rory or the husband, she wasn’t sure who, carried the woman to the driveway. Daria ran after them, moving as quickly as she could through the water on tremulous legs. She knelt down next to the woman, feeling again for a pulse.
“There’s blood everywhere, Daria,” Shelly called to her from the side of the little boy.
