Sail by James Patterson, Howard Roughan Page A

now.
    “Mom!”
    It’s Ernie, and he’s alive.
    My hearing snaps back and I twist my body around to see him swimming toward me. His face is seared black from the blast and he looks absolutely petrified, but he’s alive. Oh, but he’s so scared, poor guy.
    I forget about my leg at the sight of him and try to meet him halfway. That’s when a violent rush of pain reminds me that I’m in no condition to swim. Tears are all I can manage as I wait for him to reach me.
    I immediately throw my arms around his life jacket and hug him as hard as I dare.
    “Are you okay?” I ask.
    “I think so,” he says. “Are you, Mom?”
    I’m about to lie—I don’t want to scare him any worse—when he sees the blood around my mouth.
    “I’ll be fine,” I say.
    He doesn’t quite believe me. “What is it? What can I do?” he pleads.
    “Nothing,” I assure him as my field of vision begins to narrow. I can feel my eyes rolling back now. Not good—really not good. I might pass out, and then Ernie will be all alone out here. Next I start to shiver, and my teeth are chattering. Not good.
    “Mom!” he yells.
“Mom!”
    I blink hard, forcing myself to stay conscious. I need to think in straight lines, like a doctor, like myself. I need to stop the bleeding in my leg.
    What I need is a tourniquet.
    The M.D. in me takes over and I quickly remove one of the straps from my life jacket. Reaching down in the water, I fasten it as tight as I can above my knee. Within seconds I can feel it helping, if only a little.
    “There, that’s better,” I tell Ernie. “Are you in any pain? Tell me if you are.”
    “No, I’m okay.”
    “You sure?”
    “I’m sure.”
    He nods, and I ask him about his brother and sister, whether he’s seen them or not. I almost don’t want to hear the answer.
    “No. Not so far,” he says, shaking his head. “What about Uncle Jake?”
    “I don’t know, honey. I haven’t seen anybody but you yet.”
    Again I’m about to lie. I want to tell Ernie that everything and everyone is going to be okay. I want him to believe me, and I want to believe it myself. But I can’t do it. It’s not the way I was trained, and it’s not who I am.
    He reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. He looks so small draped in that big orange life jacket. “Don’t worry, Mom,” he assures me. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you.”
    I want to cry.
    It’s the sweetest lie I’ve ever been told.
    Chapter 44
    HOLY SHIT—what was that?
    Carrie’s eyes fluttered open, only to be met by the cold, salty sting of the ocean. Her head snapped back, and immediately she began to cough her lungs clean of the smoke that was everywhere.
    She didn’t feel particularly lucky, but that’s what she was.
Unbelievably
lucky. She’d been lying with her face on the side of her life jacket, unconscious. Another minute or two and she could have been dead. For sure, if her face had been in the water.
    At first she didn’t know where she was. Even when she saw Mark ten feet away, she still didn’t know. The only thing clear was that her brother needed help.
    Like her, he’d been knocked unconscious by the blast on board
The Family Dunne.
Unlike her, he’d yet to come out of it.
    As fast as she could, Carrie swam toward him. With each labored stroke she began to remember. Jake chasing them all around the boat . . . their getting thrown in one by one . . . her mother being the last to go overboard.
But wait—did Mom get off?
    Then everything had gone black on her. She still didn’t know what had happened. Like, where was the boat? Where was the rest of the family?
    “Mark!” she said, reaching her brother. “Wake up!
Wake up!
”
    He wouldn’t, though. She grabbed him by his life jacket and slapped his cheeks.
C’mon, Mark
. . . “I said c’mon, Mark. This is important—
wake the hell up.
”
    Finally his lids peeled back and his pupils shrank into focus. “What happened?” he asked woozily. “What’s going