He shook his head to clear salt spray from his eyes. They couldn’t head southwest toward Green Harbor, Massachusetts. They needed to make for land now. And the closest land was Maine. He had to get back to Cami and Amber. He had to get off this boat…
“Look,” Eddie began, “corporate wants—”
“I don’t care what they want,” Reese snapped. “We can’t run before a wave going that fast! It’s moving at almost 600 miles an hour, Eddie. We’re doing 35 knots at best—you do the math!” Reese turned away from Eddie when a splash of foam washed over them. “That thing will catch us long before we get back.” He ran a hand through his wet hair in frustration. “It’ll be hours before we reach Green Harbor…”
“Reese, settle down,” Eddie warned.
“Settle down?” Reese choked in reply. He laughed. “Settle down?” He turned away from Eddie—he had to think. He had to get ashore and get back to Cami and Amber. They were alone in South Carolina, just north of Charleston. That was a long, long way away. Reese shoved past Ben and ignored his friend’s arguments about what corporate told Eddie. His regional VP may be the next big thing at TechSafe HQ, but Reese wasn’t going to bet his life on Eddie’s nautical abilities. He moved up next to the captain again, grabbing onto a support strut for the flying bridge. At least in the bridge they were shielded from the spray and most of the noise.
Eddie and Ben followed, along with a few other guys from the aft deck. “Reese, Captain Holson knows what he’s doing,” Eddie argued, employing his trademarked elder statesman’s voice to take command. “Let’s leave him to it.”
“We’ll never make Green Harbor and you know it,” Reese said to the captain.
“Reese, please let the captain do his job,” Eddie warned. “I’d hate to have to call Nick and explain that you were interfering with the evacuation…”
Reese blinked at the bald threat to contact TechSafe’s chief executive. “Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” Eddie demanded.
Reese turned away from Eddie and focused on the captain. If he was going to throw away his career, he wasn’t going to pull any more punches. Cami whispered in his mind: Go big or go home…
“Captain, we have to head north,” Reese said, pointing starboard. “Maine’s coast is a lot closer than Green Harbor—we have to get off the water as soon as possible. If it’s already hitting Nova Scotia, we’re right in the wave’s path.”
Find high ground, Cami’s voice urged. You’ve got to get above the wave before it hits.
“I warned you, Reese,” Eddie said over his shoulder. “Jimmy.” The other award winners parted, letting Jimmy and his wrap-around Oakleys come closer. “Help me get Reese off the bridge so the captain can concentrate.”
“That’s not necessary, Mr. Morenez,” Captain Holson interjected.
“Come on, Reese…” Jimmy, the wide-shouldered brute, said as he moved close, as if to intimidate by his very presence.
Reese was sweating through the cold salt spray but couldn’t stop thinking about Cami and Amber. By now, he was sure they’d have heard of the tsunami and would be worried sick. He had a duty to get back to them, and he wasn’t about to let some crop-haired wannabe Navy SEAL get in his way. He turned to the captain.
“North is our only chance,” he pleaded with Holson. “Get us to Maine!”
“That’s it—the only place you’re going is out of here,” Jimmy said, putting a meathook of a hand on Reese’s shoulder. Sausage-like fingers tightened with a vice grip.
“Get off me—captain, turn north!” Reese looked at the digital chart on the screen in front of the captain as Jimmy pulled him back. “There! That’s Mount Desert Island! It’s right there—”
“Jimmy, now please,” Eddie commanded.
“Let’s go,” barked Jimmy. He jerked—hard—and Reese toppled to the deck.
“Hey!” Reese complained, struggling in vain with the mountain of muscle.
“Jimmy, back off, man,” Ben said, trying to inject some reason into the scuffle.
Everyone started shouting at once. Eddie yelled at the captain to maintain course and speed, Ben yelled at Jimmy, the crew shouted at the passengers, who mostly closed ranks around Eddie and seemed to treat Reese like the enemy.
Reese got to his feet. Jimmy grabbed him again and heaved. Reese found himself thrown to the deck back by the outboards, skidding to a stop on the salt-slick teak decking when he crunched against the fiberglass hull. He got up, rubbing his lower back and trying not to fall over again with the boat’s bucking movement. He felt like he was making a passage through the Straits of Magellan, not heading back to Massachusetts.
Jimmy stood at the entrance to the bridge, facing Reese with his feet spread wide and his arms crossed. The man looked like he’d been attached to the deck. How did he stand there without holding on to something?
“You gotta let me back in there,” Reese tried.
Jimmy’s impassive face didn’t so much as twitch. “Not unless Eddie says so.”
Reese rubbed his face, resisting the urge to scream. It was like reasoning with a five-year old. “Eddie’s going to kill us all! Can’t you see that?” He pointed east. “If that wave is as big as they say it is, and moving as fast—”
“Look, Reese, I’m worried, too—but let’s just stay out of the captain’s way so we can get home, okay?”
The bow dipped, then the Charming Betty dug into the water hard to starboard as the rudder turned the ship north at an obscene angle. Jimmy flew off his feet and slammed into the port rail, his arms in the water as a wave slapped the side of the hull. He doubled over and would’ve flipped into the ocean if Reese hadn’t scrambled forward and latched
