Chapter 3 - The Empty Horizon
The rental attendant looked up as I came over.
"My daughter was on the last banana boat with a boy named Ethan. They're not back yet."
He frowned and checked a clipboard. "They should be."
My stomach pulled tight. "What does that mean?"
"The ride's twenty minutes." He reached for a handheld radio. "Dock One. Checking on the sunset run."
Static.
He tried again. Nothing.
I turned back to the water. The horizon was nearly bare now.
Mark hurried up beside me. "What'd they say?"
The attendant lowered the radio. A line creased his forehead. "I can't raise them."
The words seemed to suck every other sound off the beach.
"What do you mean you can't raise them?" Mark said.
"They should've checked in by now." He hit the button again. "Sunset run, this is Dock One. Come in."
Static.
Mark's voice went flat and hard. "Then call someone else. Now."
"I'm trying, sir."
Another employee jogged over. The two of them traded a look I didn't like, and one took off toward the main office.
I walked down to the waterline. The ocean had changed while we stood there talking. The gold water I'd photographed less than an hour before had gone dark blue. Small waves folded onto the sand.
No banana boat. No speedboat. No orange life jackets. Nothing.
"They have to be out there." I wasn't sure if I was talking to Mark or to myself.
He wrapped an arm around me. "We'll find them."
"They're probably just stuck. Engine trouble." I nodded like saying it made it true.
Ten more minutes crawled past. The attendant came back. Still nothing.
By then a cluster of staff had gathered at the dock. One was talking fast into a phone. Another was climbing into a rescue boat.
Mark grabbed the attendant's arm. "Tell me exactly what is happening."
"We're calling emergency services."
My knees went soft. Emergency services.
Every terrible thing I'd spent sixteen years refusing to picture hit me at once. Did they go in the water? Were they still out there in the dark?
A hand touched my arm. Diane. Ethan's mother. She looked as scared as I felt.
"They'll find them," she said.
I nodded. Neither of us believed it.
Paul stood next to Mark, scanning the bay. Nobody talked. There was nothing to say.
An hour after the kids pulled away from the dock, flashing lights swung into the resort entrance. Two emergency vehicles rolled onto the property. Lifeguards started hauling out gear. Guests lined up along the sand, murmuring.
It all felt far away, like I was watching someone else's worst night.
Then I saw a man walking toward us. The resort's general manager. I'd seen him greeting guests earlier in the week, all smiles.
His face was white now.
He wasn't looking at the emergency crews. He wasn't looking at the water. He was looking straight at us. There was a phone in his hand.
He stopped in front of Mark and me. "I need you both to come with me."
May you like
"Did they find them?" I asked.
He swallowed. "You need to see something first."
