“From the volcano on the news?”
Reese nodded. “Looks like it…a model at least. Captain,” Reese said, looking up. “What if we didn’t have enough time to make it back to Green Harbor?” asked Reese. “What if we needed to get to land faster than that?” He stepped up next to the skipper and showed him the phone. “This is a tsunami model, centered on the Canary Islands. Exactly where that warning said.”
The captain studied the phone for a moment, then looked at Reese. “You think the tsunami’s gonna make it all the way across the Atlantic?”
“It’s looking like that.” Reese looked down at his phone. “But this shows the tsunami moving fast. It has the first wave hitting Boston six and a half hours after it started.”
“When did this volcano go off?” asked the captain, his hand hovering over the throttle.
“Around 5 this morning.”
Ben looked at his watch. “It’s almost 11 o’clock. That’s six hours…”
“How long will it take us to get back to Green Harbor?” demanded Reese.
Eddie, looking pale, appeared in the forward opening before the captain could answer. He put the sat phone back in its cradle and dropped his hands in his pockets. Reese couldn’t help but notice the normally unshakable Eddie Morenez appeared ready to throw up.
“We’re three hours out of Green Harbor,” the captain announced.
Ben and Reese looked at each other as the captain said ‘hahbah.’ Reese cleared his throat. “Where else could we go…if we needed to get to shore…like, I don’t know…” he asked, looking at his phone again. “Right now, maybe?”
The captain shrugged. “Easiest thing is head north. Closer to Maine than Mass right now. Maybe thirty minutes.”
“No, we need to get back to Green Harbor,” Eddie said in a firm voice. “Corporate wants us to return to port,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “There’s a jet on its way to meet us.”
“They’re sending a jet to pick us up? Why?” asked Ben. “This is a tidal wave, not a hurricane.”
“Tsunami,” Reese muttered, hearing Cami’s voice in his head.
“Whatever it is, they want to pick me up,” Eddie said, correcting Ben. “But I’m not leaving without you guys,” he added quickly.
“I don’t understand—where would you go?” asked Ben.
“There’s a mandatory coastal evacuation in place for Maine and Massachusetts. Pretty much down to New York,” Eddie revealed.
“What?” asked the captain, Ben, and Reese at once.
“We need to get back to port and get on that plane,” Eddie persisted.
The radio squawked to life before Reese could respond: “Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is MV SeaStar. MV SeaStar declaring an emergency! I repeat, MV SeaStar declaring an emergency! The wave is making landfall near Yarmouth…”
Reese watched the captain and Eddie share a look as the transmission broke up into static, then the captain turned back to the touchscreen consoles in front of him and tapped a few glowing icons. The Charming Betty continued to cut through the water like a knife, but the captain increased the throttle to the redline.
“…we’re getting pulled into shore, we can’t break free! The water…”
The radio chirped again with an incoming message. “MV SeaStar, this is US Coast Guard Station Rockland, roger your mayday—please respond.”
“Where’s that ship?” asked Reese into the silence between transmissions.
“MV SeaStar, come in, please—this is Coast Guard Rockland. Say again, MV SeaStar?
The captain glanced down at his displays, then brought his gaze back to the rough water ahead of them. “Yarmouth—that’s the southern tip of Nova Scotia. She’s not on my charts, so probably a freighter—she’s a good ways east of here.”
“Can’t be that far east if the Coast Guard is picking them up out of Rockland, right?” asked Reese.
The captain picked up the microphone hanging in a little cradle next to the ship’s wheel. When he pushed the transmit button, the speakers mounted around the ship beeped an alert tone. “This is the captain,” he said, his accent echoing outside. “All hands, clear the decks and prepare for some rough water. Everyone else, I’m sorry we’re having to cut the cruise a little short. Please get to a seat and hang on, the ride could get a little bumpy before long.”
“Shouldn’t we head north?” asked Reese, pointing at the digital charts. “To Maine?”
“Reese, let’s get out of the bridge and let Captain Holson do his thing,” Eddie said, trying to usher Reese from the captain’s presence.
“Eddie, what is it?” asked Reese, once they’d stepped outside and grabbed onto a pair of wet handrails. The captain wasn’t kidding around—the boat plowed through the gentle waves rather than gliding over them. Salt spray, wind, and the roar from the outboards assaulted his senses, but he tried to focus on Eddie’s stony face.
“Reese, we’ve got to get back to Green Harbor. If we land somewhere in Maine, we’ll be stranded—corporate already dispatched a jet to get me, and it’s plenty big to get us all to safety.”
Reese frowned. “That won’t work, Eddie.” He held up his phone, but his boss didn’t bother looking. “We’re too far out, and the wave is moving too fast.” Reese said, pointing east over their spreading wake. “You heard the radio—there’s a freighter out there that’s already getting hit.”
Ben appeared at Reese’s side, stumbling into the railing as the boat lurched through another whitecap, showering them with cool spray. He spit the saltwater out of his mouth and wiped his face. “There’s two more boats out there declaring emergencies, now. I think the wave is bigger than the Coast Guard said.”
Reese looked at his phone again, struggling to hold the screen steady. The blood-red lines representing the first tsunami pulses racing across the Atlantic continued to plow into the eastern seaboard starting at the T+6.5
