As if on cue, a bang rocked the boat from bow to stern and a dragon puff of fire erupted from the bridge. People screamed and began leaping into the lifeboat. Some were too far away and ended up in the water. Others fell on top of other passengers. Jill heard bones crack. She heard the smack of skulls.
Overloaded with wriggling, shrieking bodies, the pilot cast off.
Guests wailed as the lifeboat disappeared into the darkness.
Suddenly, the captain was there. He lowered the bandanna he’d tied around his nose and mouth and bellowed, “Everyone in the waternow! Swim for the shore. The rescue boats will find you!”
The remaining guests began to jump overboard, but Jill couldn’t move.
A crew member frantically gestured for the three of them to get off the boat. “There’s gas in the bilge! Go!Go!”
Charles held out a hand to help Una over the rail. “We have to get off. Even the crew’s jumping!”
Refusing to let go of the harpoon, Una stepped off the side of the boat. Charles tucked her knife into his waistband and motioned for Jill to jump.
“Wait!” she cried, spying a boat hook rolling across the deck. She grabbed it and, together, she and Charles leapt off the boat.
The moment the salt water stung her eyes and her dress ballooned around her waist, Jill expected tentacles to wrap around her chest. She tensed, waiting for a hundred barbed wire teeth to tear into her meaty thighs.
She was afraid to swim. Afraid of any movement that might attract Mrs. Smith.
When gargled screams echoed from the darkness off to her left, Jill’s body kicked into survival mode. She pivoted her right hip toward the sky and began to do a sidestroke.
“Swim like this,” she called quietly to Una. “You won’t splash.”
Unburdened by a harpoon or boat hook, Charles opted for breaststroke. It wasn’t long before he pulled ahead.
The lights on the shore seemed impossibly small. Behind Jill, a curtain of black smoke fell over the yacht.
We’ll never make it, she thought, her tears falling into the uncaring water.
Somewhere in front of Charles, a woman squealed in terror. A heartbeat passed and then she cried out again, but the sound was abruptly cut off by a violent splash.
Suddenly, Jill heard engines. A searchlight wandered across the water to her right.
“HERE!” she shouted, pausing to tread water and wave. “We’re here!”
A light landed on her face. Held there. Grew closer. It was as bright as the summer sun. It was a beacon of hope.
Please, God, Jill prayed.Please save us. Please get us out of the water.
An inflatable dinghy approached with agonizing slowness. Something brushed against Jill’s back. She shivered at its touch.
Eels.
She shoved the boat hook toward it, but it was already gone.
The dinghy drew up next to Una. A man said, “Give me your hand!”
Jill didn’t wait for an invitation. She swam over and clasped the lifeline.
“I got you,” said the man.
Jill tossed her weapon in and let the man pull her into the dinghy. As soon as she regained her balance, she pointed at the black water between their rubber boat and the shore. “My friend is there!”
Before the man could respond, the gas tanks on the yacht exploded.
Jill’s back was turned, so she didn’t see the blooming fireball, but she felt a blast of heat and the force of the man’s hand, pushing down.
