Erin twisted around to glance upward. The water was murky and visibility was only about ten feet, but she could still see her friend struggling to get free of her kayak. Terror stabbed through her. Erin swam back to Carissa to help her, even as the boat raced toward the kayaks and was almost on them.
Her eyes wide, Carissa pushed forward, freeing herself.
The hull of the speeding boat sped right over the top of the kayaks, breaking Carissa’s in half—the stern of her broken kayak propelled toward Carissa. Her head jerked forward.
All the bubbles of air burst from her lungs, then her form floated—unmoving. Unconscious? Or was she lifeless?
Her pulse thundering in her ears, Erin swam toward Carissa, grabbed her, and inflated their life vests. They rose quickly to the surface. Erin broke the water and gasped for breath as she held Carissa. The water remained disturbed from the speeding boat’s wake and crashed over them.
Erin confirmed what she already feared. Carissa wasn’t breathing. Adrenaline surged through her. She had to keep moving. Holding on to Carissa, Erin started swimming them back to shore.
She spotted the errant boat making a big circle.
Coming back? Had someone lost control? She had to make it to shore to give Carissa CPR. And maybe even to save them both.
Stay calm. Panic wouldn’t help either of them. The water was cold, but not so cold that she needed to worry about hypothermia. At least not yet. The whir of a boat from her left drew her attention, kicking up her already rapid heartbeat. As she took in the slowly approaching trawler—a far different boat from the speeding cruiser—relief eased the tension in her shoulders. Three men and a couple of women waved.
A silver-haired man in a Seahawks cap shouted, “Do you need help?”
“Yes! Hurry!”
The boat edged slowly toward her, and she swam to meet it. The men reached down and pulled Carissa up into the boat.
Erin used the ladder on the side. “She needs CPR. She’s not breathing!”
When she hopped onto the deck, she saw that one of the men had started administering CPR.
A redheaded woman wrapped a blanket around Erin. “Oh, honey, are you okay?”
Hot tears burned down her cold, wet cheeks. “No ... no, I’m not okay.” She dropped to her knees next to her friend.
Carissa coughed up water and rolled onto her side. When she’d finished expelling seawater, she sat up and looked around.
Erin hugged her and spoke against her short, wet hair. “I thought you were done for.”
Carissa held on to Erin tightly, then released her to cough more. Erin took in the group standing around them, their watchful eyes filled with concern.
“I’m Vince. And this is my wife, Jessie.” The man with the Seahawks cap gestured to the redhead, then made introductions. John, his son, and Terry, John’s friend, and Mavis, John’s girlfriend. A family affair.
“I’m Erin, and this is Carissa.”
Jessie placed a blanket around Carissa. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get you something warm to drink.”
“Thank you.” Erin sat with Carissa on the cushioned bench and took in her friend. She looked shell-shocked, and why shouldn’t she? Was she going to be okay?
Carissa closed her eyes. Was she in pain or thinking back to what happened? Jessie had disappeared below deck to grab warm drinks. Mavis, Terry, and John were trying to recover the kayaks and bring them onto the trawler.
Vince remained standing, his arms crossed as if he were a sentinel sent to protect them. And at this moment, Erin needed that reassurance.
“If you hadn’t come when you did,” she said, “I don’t know what would have happened. I can’t thank you enough.” She searched the waters around them. “Is that boat ... Is it gone?”
“What boat?” Mavis approached and glanced at Vince.
“You didn’t see that?” Erin got to her feet and pulled Carissa with her. She searched the waters. “A boat came right for us. Ran over our kayaks and almost killed us. They must have lost control. Maybe they were drunk or something.”
“I saw a boat heading west,” Vince said, “but I didn’t connect that to seeing you in the water, swimming to shore. Kayaks and canoes are hard to spot sometimes. I’m sorry that happened. But I’ll contact the Seattle Police Harbor Patrol and let them know. In the meantime, is there somewhere we can take you?”
“Back to the marina at Port of Edmonds. We could talk to the police there and tell them what happened,” Erin said.