Page 54 of The Trip

“Palmer.” Emma tugs on my arm. “Come on. Get inside.”

She takes her phone from my hand. I tear my gaze from the water and allow Emma to pull me toward the cockpit.

“Beth,” Emma calls.

Beth spins around at the front of the cockpit. Emma points at Adam and Gigi who are working to unjam the mainsail.

“Tell them to get inside. There’s a huge wave coming!”

Beth whirls around and shouts at Adam and Gigi to get below.

“Hurry,” Emma yells, fumbling to unhook her tether.

Adam’s flashlight sweeps toward us.

“Here, shine this on mine.” Beth extends her phone to me.

I hold the light on Beth’s life vest while she unhooks her tether.

Adam and Gigi reach the back of the cockpit.

“What is it?” Adam asks.

“There’s a huge wave coming,” Emma says.

The boat rocks sideways on a swell. I reach for Beth, taking her with me as I fall to the floor.

“Shit,” Emma exclaims. “We’ve turned away from the wave. We need to hit it straight on! Go below,” she says to Beth and me while she shakily reattaches her tether. “I’m going to turn us one more time.”

“Emma, don’t! There’s no time,” I yell. But Emma is already halfway to the helm.

Adam’s flashlight shines on Beth and me, still on the cockpit floor. I get up and start down the companionway, praying Emma makes it back in time before the wave hits.

I turn when I reach the bottom of the stairs. “Come on, Beth!”

“My foot’s stuck,” she screams.

I press my palm against the wall as we heel over forty-five degrees. My gaze darts to Beth’s ankle, lit up by Adam’s flashlight. It’s wrapped twice in the mess of tether lines at her feet. I start to come up, but Adam holds up his hand. Gigi crouches beside Beth and works to untangle it.

“Everyone else get below,” he shouts.

Emma steps past them. I move aside as she comes down the steps. She pulls me toward the dinette.

“Sit down and hold on,” she says.

I cast a look over my shoulder. “Beth,” I call, relieved to see her figure start down the companionway.

“I’m coming,” Beth says.

The boat tips, sending Adam’s flashlight to the angled floor.

“Are we all here?” I ask.

“Yes,” Beth replies.

“Close the hatch,” Emma yells, lying against the wall beside me. “This is it!”

Cupboards fly open, sending dishes crashing to the ground as we heel over, now perpendicular to the water. I grip the table, but it slips out of my hold, and I’m thrown against the window. It’s as if I’m a part of the ocean, at the mercy of where it will take me. Like swimming, but without any control.