Finn pushed hair from his eyes, tried to see. Stumbling as the boat spun, he lurched to the side. There were cracks and smashes in the dark. Things breaking. Stuff coming loose. Quickly, he moved up on deck and rain lashed at him immediately, pounding his face.

Where was Tommy? What the hell was going on?

Winches were undoing; he heard the whirring of lines as they escaped. A life jacket skidded past him.

“Tommy!”

Wind roared back. It tried to pull him, screeching like an animal. But he had to keep hold, couldn’t let go. Rain was driving at him sideways now. And he was so wet. Freezing! Slipping!

He wedged his foot against the mast as everything tipped. Heavy, wet sails thudded against him. Now the cold sea was close, just below his shoulder. Roaring and black. Taking their stuff, swallowing it. Almost taking him.

Had it taken Tommy already?

He clung on tight. Spun.

Hell was here.