"Redemption's Run": Chapter 17

A Star Tribune serialized novel by Jane Fredericksen

Chapter 17

The story so far: Vince is livid over his missing boat.

"Kinney!"

Kacie saw him plunge toward the deck, his arms flailing. At the last second, Kinney snared a piece of the partially fallen mainsail. It furled around him like a white shroud and Kacie caught her breath, thinking he might be saved, if he could just hang on.

But the sail snapped in the wind and flung him sideways against the mast. Kinney crashed into a metal winch and dropped to the cabin roof, ankle-first. He instantly crumpled and slid to the deck below.

Kacie rushed toward him, but her harness yanked her back, like a warning. She glanced back. It had snagged the wheel. Impatiently, she jerked it free and ran to where Kinney lay, gasping, on the deck.

Kacie paused, unsure how to help. "Are you OK?" Then she felt a prickle of fear on the back of her neck. Something else was wrong.

She was facing Kinney. Facing forward. He was facing astern, focused on his pain and didn't see it. The mainsail was still partly up. But the wind had changed direction.

Or rather, they had. The jib was beginning to fill.

On the wrong side.

"Jibe!" Kacie yelled.

Kacie waited until the boom swept by, then she dove forward. Again, something dragged her away from Kinney. This time, the pull was steady and unyielding.

The boom, thought Kacie. It caught my safety harness. But it's OK. The tether will save me.

And then she heard the tether snap.

"Kinney!" Kacie screamed. "Help me!"

The boom flipped her over the side of the boat.

But for all she knew, he might be just as lost.

Kacie sank down, down into the chilling cold of the stormy lake. Alone.

* * *

Kinney heard Kacie scream and lunged to his feet. Immediately, pain knifed through his ankle, fireworks exploded in his head, his lungs burned.

In a second, he pieced it together, but he was a second too late. He saw her hit the water.

The lake had swallowed her whole.

Kinney scrambled toward the cockpit, slipped on the wet deck and caught himself, cursing. He reached for Redemption's wheel and spun her around to crash-stop, marking time and location, all the while scanning, scanning the water surface. He was grateful that the mainsail hadn't fallen entirely. He could use it to maneuver back to a close reach, back toward Kacie's point of impact.

But where was she? Her life vest should have brought her to the surface. She was nowhere to be seen.

He racked his brain trying to account for the wave action, the drift, how far she might have submerged, where she might surface. He wanted to be close, but not dangerously close. His head throbbed from the calculations, the remorse, the what-ifs.

He was not a praying man, not anymore. But he prayed now. "Don't let her come up under the boat. Don't."

Kinney tied down the wheel, grabbed the life preserver — the one marked "Redemption" — and stumbled to the edge of the boat. "Kacie!"

The wind echoed his cry, mocking him. His head pounded. Spatters of rain began to pelt him.

Kinney shook his fist at the sky and screamed. "You were supposed to take me, not her, damn you!"

He scanned the crashing waves in desperation. Once more he shouted with every ounce of strength, "Kacie!"

All he could see was darkness everywhere.