Sam hoped so.
He stayed on the top deck as they neared the area, binoculars glued to his eyes. The waves were a decent size and he couldn’t see Penelope in the water, though occasionally he glimpsed the yellow life raft she’d made. She wasn’t on it.
Come on, Penelope.
The tightness in his chest made it difficult to breathe.
Where was she?
***
Penelope shrieked and thrust her arms and legs in front of her, more instinctual than with any actual plan. The fin swerved and went under.
Maybe she’d scared it off, maybe it was coming around for another try. In the distance she thought she heard the rumble of an engine, but the sea was too rough to see anything. She glimpsed her raft only a few metres away and she powered towards it, using every bit of energy she had to get there fast, not caring about splashing any more.
Her fingers brushed the plastic before a wave carried it out of reach. She stretched again, thinking at any moment sharp teeth would seize her leg and drag her away from safety.
This time her fingers grabbed a strap, and she gripped it, hauling the raft towards her. With adrenaline born from fear, she lifted herself onto the raft and brought her knees to her chest so nothing dangled over the side.
The raft sank, the jackets she was on bobbing below the surface, but those making up the sides above it. Maybe the plastic would be enough to hide her from beady eyes and sharp senses.
She lay there breathing heavily, curled into a ball while she got her breath back. The danger wasn’t over yet. She had to get to land, and all she had to paddle with were her arms.
The sun was on the horizon now.
Penelope opened her eyes, staring up at the sky, and spotted a glider in the distance above her. She waved her arms, and the raft dipped alarmingly.
The glider circled twice above her.
They’d seen her. If the sharks didn’t get her, someone knew where she was. They could lead the rescue team to her.
The wind blew over her skin and she shivered, but no matter how cold she got, she wasn’t getting into the water again.
The glider moved east, away from her, and she watched it go and then circle again.
Penelope lifted her head and spotted the top of a boat heading straight for her. It was coming from the wrong direction to be Grant and Murray coming back.
Rescue.
Someone had answered her mayday call.
She shifted and lifted an arm to wave, but the movement forced her raft further underwater.
The engines slowed, and the boat circled around to come between her and the carcass. A tour boat with a large marlin board on the back, and standing on the marlin board, arm outstretched was Sam.
Her hero.
She stayed where she was as the boat reversed and cut its engines. Sam threw a rope to her, and she caught it, holding tight as he pulled her in.
The raft bumped against the marlin board as the boat rocked with the waves. Before she had a chance to shift, Sam hauled her into his arms. Warm, strong, safe.
“You’re safe,” he murmured, carrying her onto the deck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, not caring she was soaking him as relief made her weak.
Vaguely she heard cheering as he carried her into the cabin and the door shut behind them. He sat with her on the seating which ran around the edge.
“Jesus, Penny. What happened?” He pried the torch she still clutched from her hand and tucked it into his pocket, and then slipped the backpack off her shoulder and placed it on the ground next to them.
She couldn’t bring herself to move, to let go of him. “Give me a minute.” She clung to him, inhaling his scent, running her hands over his back. She was out of the water.
