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Shit, we need to get out of here before we suffocate.
Tears streamed from my eyes as I pushed open the other door, desperate for clean air.
“Tyler! Where are you?” Holding my breath, I crossed the upper deck to the railing.
The engine sizzled, and sparks flicked along the rusted frame.
I scanned the dive deck and my heart launched to my throat. “Tyler!”
Directly below me, his limp body emerged from the smoke.
Gripping the railing, I raced along the deck to the stairs.
No. No. No.
I jumped down to the dive deck and sprinted over twisted debris.
“Tyler!” I fell to my knees.
He groaned.
“Oh, thank God.” I yanked bits of charred metal off his wetsuit that had burned into the rubber. I gripped his arm. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Soot painted my palms like warpaint as I rolled him onto his back and helped him sit. “Tyler, come on, you bastard. Help me.”
A mild explosion erupted from the engine, and flaming metal flew into the air. It landed on the dive deck next to a chunk of glass.
Oh fuck! Dad’s broken whiskey bottle.
“Tyler.” I slapped his cheek. “We gotta move!”
Blinking, he shook his head. I hugged him to my side.
A spark landed on the wet patch on the deck.
I hauled him to his feet.
A blue flame raced across the timber.
His legs were like rubber as I forced him to the stairs.
A tremendous roar erupted behind me.
Clutching the railing, I screamed as I forced Tyler’s unruly legs up the stairs.
Another explosion ripped through the air. As we crashed in a tangle of arms and legs on the upper deck, I hugged Tyler to my body.
He jerked back, his piercing blue eyes were wide . . . and awake.
“Are you okay?” We both said at the same time.
His concern was a balm to my chaos.
“Yes,” I cried as we scrambled to our feet, “but Dad’s not.”
I ran to the equipment room and fell on my knees beside Dad. “Dad!” His hands had fallen to his sides, and foaming blood oozed from his wound. “Dad, talk to me!”
He groaned. “Will ya stop yelling at me?”
