Stewart was standing on deck, holding the anchor with both hands, when he saw two men wading through the water towards him. As he dropped the anchor overboard, letting go faster than he’d anticipated, he realized that the Lisa had begun to float. Looking back at the two men, Stewart saw that the water was above their knees and rising fast. He found the stepladder and lowered it over the edge to help them board, but the current swirled from the bow and pulled it from his grip.
Stewart watched the water carry the ladder away, surprised that it that it grown so strong, so quickly. Getting down on his stomach, he reached out his arm. The older, taller man grabbed it and pulled himself aboard. The younger one did the same. All three men stood on deck. A bolt of lightning struck a tree near the boat. Only Stewart jumped.
“What should we do with him?” asked Anderson.
“Put him down there.”
Anderson grabbed Stewart roughly by the shoulders, pushing him towards the steps that led down to the cabin.
“Wait! What are you doing?” Stewart protested.
But Anderson was significantly taller and broader, and Stewart couldn’t resist. Pushed down the stairs, he landed at the bottom of his boat. He raced back up the steps, but the hatch closed in his face. He heard the lock slip into place.
“What are you doing?” he yelled again. There was no response.
Turning in the small space, Stewart opened the starboard porthole and looked out just in time to see the anchor pulled from the water. He felt the boat begin to move and watched as the Prairie Embassy Hotel got smaller and smaller. It was then that Stewart felt his feet getting wet. Looking down, he saw that water had begun to seep in from the bow.
“Damn it,” Stewart said, in a quiet, defeatist tone.