Gem stared at the two ships that seemed to be steaming ahead directly in the ring of fire. She knew that couldn’t be the case, but her stomach tightened all the same. A group of smaller craft circled around the edges of the burn. Austin was out there.

“God, that looks insane,” she murmured.

Emily rested her hand on Gem’s shoulder. “They know what they’re doing. They planned for this, you know.”

Gem’s throat was dry and she swallowed. “I know.”

“It’s a good thing, right? If it never gets to shore, we’ll be fine.”

Gem laughed shortly. “Oh, sure, assuming the hurricane doesn’t flatten everything and flood the sanctuary.”

“Well, yeah, assuming that.”

“I don’t see why she has to be out there in the middle of it.”

“Probably for the same reason you’re here. Because no one does it as well and you wouldn’t be happy unless you were doing it yourself.”

“Not the same thing. It’s not like she had to light the match herself.”

“Uh-huh. And you probably don’t need to be shoveling sand, either.”

Gem cut her a look, appreciating her friendship now more than ever. “I really don’t like it when you’re right all the time.”

Emily grinned. “How’s it going? Still being mature?”

“Not exactly.” Gem hadn’t been able to get the dark, desirous look in Austin’s eyes out of her mind, or the feeling of being touched just from being seen. Softly, almost as if saying it would change things, she said, “She told me she was falling in love with me.”

“Well, points for her for being smart enough to see what a great catch you are,” Emily said with obvious approval. “I knew I liked her.”

“You do?”

“Hey, she had me sold when she started filling sandbags. Those oil rigs are a fact of life, and you know what? We need them. I’m no economist, but I’m pretty sure oil independence is a real plus in today’s world. So we need people like her to deal with things like this. Because sometimes, shit happens.”

Gem nodded, searching the tiny images of the ships as if she could actually see Austin somewhere. Plumes of thick gray smoke rose against the midnight sky, illuminated from beneath by orange tongues of burning oil. “I just want her to get off that damn boat and get back here.”

Joe walked over with a sandwich in one hand. “Hell of a fire. Better it happens out there than in the marsh.”

“Yes,” Gem murmured, knowing Austin was their best hope for sparing the sanctuary, at least until Norma arrived.

Chapter Twenty-five

The gray light of dawn was barely recognizable beyond the orange flames and black smudges of roiling clouds coating the sky above the launch. Austin flexed her fingers and toes, trying to keep the circulation flowing, and directed Reddy to circle out beyond the containment ships. They’d kept the burn going all night and she wanted to check for new accumulations of oil and to gauge the efficiency of the burn. She braced her legs and gripped the rails as the launch bumped over the waves.

Tatum edged up beside her and shouted above the wind. “It’s coming in fast.”

“I know. The captain just relayed a weather update from Claudia. We’ll have to call it off pretty quick.”

“If she comes in hard,” Tatum said, “maybe she’ll wear herself out fast and we can get back out to the rig and stop this fucking leak for good.”

“I’m for that.” Austin grinned, squinting into the icy blow. The NBC News copter had been joined by another, probably local news, and the pair trailed after them, swaying and bouncing like a pair of dragonflies. They hadn’t quit following them all night except for a brief interval when the NBC bird disappeared, likely to refuel and change pilots. If Linda Kane was still up there, Austin had to give her points for toughness. With the way the birds dipped and rocked in the heavy winds, everybody aboard must have a cast-iron stomach. At least they were dry up there, so she didn’t feel too sorry for them.

“We’re getting oil over the booms,” she said, pointing off the bow.

“Yeah,” Tatum said, “waves are getting too high to keep it localized.”

Austin radioed Renuto. “Let it burn out, Phil, and pull your crews back to the ships.”

“You pulling the plug?” Reddy yelled.

“Yeah,” Austin called. They’d have to count on the shore booms to catch the rest of it, until they could safely burn again. She signaled Reddy with a wave and pointed back to the nearest containment ship. He nodded, gunned the engine, and cut a wide arc to head back.

Austin watched the sheen of unburned oil stream out and away, hoping the heavy seas would disperse most of it before it ever reached the final barriers offshore. That was where the endgame would shift. Gem and her people would have a massive cleanup job handling the aftermath of a hurricane. She didn’t want to see oil added to the calamity. Clambering forward, she called to Reddy, “As soon as we refuel, let’s get to shore.”

“Roger that,” he called back.

She needed a status update on the shore preparations, but more than that, she wanted to see Gem. She wanted that even more than she wanted a meal and a couple hours’ sleep, both of which her body screamed for. She just needed to be in the same space with her, even if they couldn’t touch, couldn’t share a private word. Being near her was enough to make everything else right. The rush of anticipation warmed her despite the icy water soaking her from head to toe.

“Fuck,” Tatum exclaimed.

A ten-foot swell crashed over the side of the launch and Austin barely got a hand on the rail as the craft wallowed in the trench. Tatum shouted again and lost his footing. Austin grabbed a strap on his PFD, willing her frozen fingers to hold on, and the two of them bobbed on a rush of water for a couple of seconds. As the launch righted itself, she got her feet under her.

Tatum, eyes wide, shouted, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah!” She laughed, nerves screaming. “Looks like Norma’s knocking at the door.”

“Fuck me twice,” Tatum called, looking upward.

She followed his frantic gaze. One of the copters tilted, dropped twenty feet, and shot up again, rolling wildly. For a second it looked like the pilot found some steady air, and then the rotors quit and it dropped like a stone.

“Reddy,” Austin shouted. “Reddy, head for them.”

The copter hit the water with a loud boom and a geyser of water catapulted into the air. Sirens blared from a dozen ships. Floodlights suddenly speared through the darkness, illuminating the dark surface of the ocean. The helicopter bobbed on its side, half-submerged but intact.

Reddy pushed the launch to full speed, engines screaming in protest as the craft shot up into the air and dropped bow first into the troughs over and over. They were fifty yards away from the downed copter but making almost no progress against the stormy seas. Austin gritted her teeth, her heart pounding.

“It’s gonna sink,” Tatum yelled.

“Grab the life jackets.” Austin tightened her grip on Tatum’s vest as he released one hand from the rail and opened the locker against the sidewall.

“Get ready to toss them in,” she called as the launch finally drew within twenty yards of the helicopter. The door on the upper surface pushed open, and a figure emerged. Arms windmilling, the person fell into the ocean. Austin leaned forward, eyes stinging from the salty spray, searching for some sign of him. For an instant she thought she saw a figure in the water. She pointed. “There! Throw the jacket!”

Tatum lofted the PFD and it splashed into the waves, disappearing from view. Austin held her breath. A lifetime later a head reappeared, then an arm clutching the PFD. The spotlight from the ship picked him out and stayed on him.

“Where’s the rest?” Tatum said.

Austin shook her head, watching the helicopter for some further sign of life. “Reddy, can you get us closer?”

“Hold on,” he shouted, and steered for the rapidly sinking helicopter.

As they approached, Austin could make out a man waving frantically from the open cabin doorway, one arm looped around another motionless form. He dragged the unconscious person free of the cockpit just as the helicopter dropped into the sea.

“Where the fuck did they go?” Tatum said.

“Give me the jacket,” Austin yelled, climbing onto the rail. Sighting the last spot she’d seen the struggling figures, she grabbed the PFD and jumped.

❖

“Hey,” a young blonde in a FEMA windbreaker yelled as she jogged up the shore. “Helicopter just went down out there.”

Gem dropped her shovel and spun around. “What? Where?”

“Out by the oil rig,” the girl said excitedly. “I just heard a maritime alert on our scanner.”

“Who was it?” Gem said, her stomach dropping. “Did they say? Are they all right?”

The girl shook her head. “Don’t know. Search and rescue’s on the way now.”

Gem stared out to sea, as if she could actually see as far as the rig. Sometime in the last hour the dark night had slipped into day, although the charcoal sky seemed only slightly lighter than the dead of night. All she saw were the familiar containment ships holding anchor offshore and, beyond them, endless miles of ocean. It couldn’t be Austin. Of course it couldn’t. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel.

She pulled out her phone and texted Austin. Maybe it was fruitless, but she had to try. Are you all right?

She gripped her phone in numb fingers, her heartbeat so loud it drummed out the surf. The empty screen stared back, taunting her, reminding her with its blank face and foreboding silence how mercurial time and life could be. What had she been waiting for? Why had she been so afraid to face her own desires? Why hadn’t she told Austin the truth? I want you too.