PARKER LURCHED FORWARD, HIS HANDS now clutching the railing where Logan had fallen into the thundering waves. The boat pitched and flung Parker to the deck. He landed on his right knee. Pain shot through his kneecap, but he ignored it and crawled back toward the railing.
“Dawson!”
No answer. Parker shouted as loud as he could. “Dawson!”
“What?” He barely heard the skiff man’s voice over the roar of the storm.
“Logan is overboard!”
“What?”
The boat pitched down at thirty degrees, and Parker grabbed at the nets to keep from sliding down the deck.
“The boom knocked him over!”
Parker pulled himself up and clutched at the railing again as his eyes raked the water for Logan. Nothing. But even if he was four feet from the boat, Logan would be difficult to see in the darkness.
“What is going on?” Fredricks finally staggered to Parker’s side.
Dawson twisted his head toward them and shouted instructions. “Get to the spot, you gotta light it up! Logan’s over!”
Fredricks scrambled up the ladder to the spotlight and Parker turned back to the dark water. The light swept the waves as Parker squinted against the rain and spray. C’mon, Logan. Yes! There he was, not more than fifteen feet from the boat. But a second later Logan went under as a wave buried him, his life jacket not enough to keep him afloat.
“No!”
Parker clutched the edge of the boat, willing Logan to surface. Two seconds passed. Three. Adrenaline surged through him. He had to do something. Fast. Didn’t matter that it was summertime. The Alaskan waters would suck the warmth out of Logan in minutes and drain his strength to stay afloat. The captain would kick off his boots, shed his coat to aid his mobility, but that would speed up the penetration of the cold into his extremities, then the core of his body. Not to mention the waves pounding down and tossing his body around like a waterlogged cork.
Think! Dive in? The fear he’d carried his entire life caved in on him. Instantly he was back at the beach as a kid being held under. No, he couldn’t save Logan that way, but he’d find another answer.
Logan was a good swimmer, hadn’t he said that? And his life jacket would keep him above the water, right? He just needed to get his bearings, and he could get to the back of the boat and climb on board. Then the sea in front of Parker lit up like God had flipped a switch on the sun. It was Fredricks’s spotlight, trained on the ocean exactly where it should be.
“Can you see him?” Fredricks’s voice cut through the storm.
“No! But keep—” Parker was cut off as a wave crashed into his back, thrust his stomach into the railing, and bent him over double. The blow almost knocked the wind out of him. He shook himself and scanned the surface of the water where he’d last seen Logan.
Finally Logan’s head broke the surface, but five feet farther away. His life jacket had been torn off of him and floated fifteen feet away. No! Logan’s mouth opened wide and gasped for air. His arms flailed and he went back under. An instant later he surfaced and jerked his head violently back and forth, searching for his life jacket. The spotlight had to be shining down in order to see the captain, but it seemed to be disorienting Logan.
“Logan. This way!”
Parker doubted his words would slice through the torrential rain and the roar of the black waves, but he couldn’t stop trying. He screamed louder. If there was even a slight possibility Logan could hear his cries and get his bearings, he’d torch his voice to do it.
A wave crested and again Logan vanished from Parker’s sight. No. This couldn’t happen. A second later relief flooded Parker. The wave sank, and Logan was still there—above the surface, trying to swim toward the boat in long, slow strokes. Yes! But his relief was short-lived as he realized the current was slowly pushing Logan farther away. And time would soon run out, because Logan’s core body temperature had to be dropping fast. How much longer before his arms and legs went numb? Two minutes? Less?
Logan went under for a third time. A line from grade school flashed through Parker’s mind. “The third time someone goes under means they’re about to drown.” Was it an old wives’ tale? It didn’t matter if it was three, or four, or five. Parker had to do something. Logan wasn’t going to make it on his own. Parker whipped his gaze up to the wheelhouse. Yes, that was it. Logan’s only chance was for Parker to switch places with Dawson so he could get into the water and rescue Logan.
“Dawson!” Parker screamed the name with all his strength, then took a faltering step toward the wheelhouse, but before he could take another, a wave crashed over the side and tossed him to the back of the boat. Dawson turned and riveted his gaze on Parker. The man didn’t have to say a word; Parker read it in the wiry man’s eyes. Even if Parker could make it up to the wheel, he’d never driven a boat like this one. His inexperience meant the boat would likely go over in minutes. More likely in seconds. Time seemed to stop as he accepted the truth. Switching places with Dawson would only get them all killed. He’d never worked a spotlight, so switching with Fredricks was probably a bad idea as well. Plus, it would take time that the captain didn’t have. Either he would go in after Logan, or no one would.
“Logan, hang on! Just a little longer.” A little longer? Yeah, right. Hang on for what? He was going to come up with a plan in the next ten seconds that would save the day?
He had to get to the life jackets. Stupid not to grab one when he first came out. Upper deck. Had to get there somehow. Fight the rocking of the ship, fight through the waves crashing over the side. Grab two jackets and fight his way back. Stop it!
The thoughts were only stall tactics, his fear tossing out reasons that would only delay his taking action. Parker scrambled to his feet and scanned the deck. There! He staggered over to a long, thick rope nestled next to the wheelhouse. Next to it was a life preserver. He snatched up the ring, slung the end of the rope through it, and tied a knot he prayed would hold. Parker lashed the other end of the rope to a cleat on deck and crawled up the railing. This had to work.
He whipped his head back toward the spot he’d last seen Logan. A second later Logan surfaced and relief flooded Parker. But it vanished just as quickly as it had come because the panic that had been in Logan’s eyes earlier had faded. A strange calm had settled on his face, almost as if he accepted he was going to drown. He spun in the water as if trying to spot the boat, maybe to say a last goodbye to his vessel.
“No! Fight it, Logan!”
As the words dropped into the sea, a thought flashed into Parker’s mind.
Save him. Jump in and save him.
“Arrghhhh!”
Terror crawled in at the stem of his brain and painted images of him drowning alongside Logan.
Save him. Now.
Then another voice in his head joined the first.
It’s suicide. You’ll panic the instant you hit the water. You’ll suck in water like you did as a kid and the darkness will take you. Joel can’t come to the rescue this time.
Parker clutched the railing and screamed, “Joel would jump!”
You’re not Joel. Besides, that’s the kind of thinking that got him killed. Why kill yourself too, trying to save a man who’s treated you like he has?
Then the other voice again, softer this time. Go. Save him.
What, you think saving this guy will impress your dad? Finally make him love you as much as he loved Joel? Not going to happen. So do you really want to die trying to save a man like him? This isn’t your story—it’s his.
He gripped the railing harder, leaned forward into the punishing wind. The truth? No, he didn’t want his life to end. Didn’t want to die for Logan. And no, saving Logan wouldn’t impress his dad enough. Nothing would ever be enough.
Yes, that’s it. Let it go. You can simply tell the others he went under and never surfaced again. Don’t be a fool.
But then that other voice sounded in his head like a cymbal. You only have seconds left to decide.
“Decide what?”
Who you are.
“What?”
Are you a man who decides his worth based on what others tell him he is, or are you a man who decides who he is based on what he knows to be true at the core of his being? As you look at those waters, it doesn’t matter what Joel would do or what would impress your father. It only matters what you would do. And whatever that action is, you must choose it now.
Parker’s breaths grew ragged. Only seconds left to choose. He crawled up onto the railing and froze. What would he do? Not anyone else. Just him. Would he jump or stay?
No more time to think. Only time to choose. “God, what do I do?”
An instant later the truth struck him like lightning. The answer wasn’t in him saving Logan or not saving Logan. It was in letting go of having to prove himself to anyone and stepping into who he truly was. And who was that? He knew. Parker Moore was a man who couldn’t let another drown without a fight.
Parker grabbed the rope, stood for a second on the railing. The fear of drowning pressed down on him like a block of granite. The images of being held under as a kid assaulted him again.
“I’m not ready to die,” Parker shouted at the waves.
But for the first time in his life, he knew who he was, so he clutched the rope tight and leaped out over the dark waters.