Sail by James Patterson, Howard Roughan Page B

on?”
    Carrie still wasn’t sure herself. “There might have been an explosion,” she said.
    Mark glanced around at what little remained of the boat, bits and pieces still in flames. His hair was singed, and a nasty gash on his forehead was bleeding freely, but his sarcasm remained unscathed. “Gee, you think so?” he quipped.
    “I should’ve left you unconscious,” Carrie was about to say when they both turned their heads.
    “Do you hear that?” asked Mark.
    Carrie nodded. “It’s Mom!”
    There was another voice too. Thank God, it was Ernie! She had never been so happy to hear her loquacious little brother.
    Mark and Carrie called out to them and began making their way through the wafting smoke and wreckage.
    “Here!” their mother shouted. “We’re over here!”
    A hurried minute later, all the Dunnes were united in the water.
    All of them except Jake.
    Chapter 45
    “LOOK!” said Ernie, pointing. “Over there! Will you all look!”
    The smoke still hovered everywhere like a dense fog. It was impossible to see anything clearly. But as the wind shifted slightly, they all caught a glimpse of what Ernie saw.
    Jake.
    He was forty, maybe fifty yards away.
    “Uncle Jake!” called out Carrie.
    It quickly became obvious—painfully obvious—that he wasn’t about to respond. Jake was facedown in the water with his arms out, motionless. Otherwise known as the dead man’s float. Katherine gasped. “Oh, God, no!”
    Mark immediately commandeered Carrie and Ernie. “You two stay here with Mom,” he said. “I’ll go get Uncle Jake.”
    He pushed away from the tight square their family had formed in the water.
    “No, wait, I’ll come too,” said Carrie. All she could think about was how Jake had come to her rescue on the first day of the trip.
    “Fine,” said Mark. “Let’s move it, though.”
    They both took off. Mark was fast, but Carrie was even faster. Of the two swimming records she still held at her prep school, one was the fifty-meter freestyle. It was no surprise she reached Jake first.
    Right away she almost wished she hadn’t. His arms and legs—what she could see of them, at least—were severely burned. Blood was seeping out of the burns. His skin, raw and blistering red, had bubbled like paint under a heat gun. Carrie suddenly felt sick to her stomach.
    Fighting back her urge to throw up, she tried to flip Jake over. He was too heavy. Fortunately, that’s when Mark caught up and gave her a hand. Together, they turned him on his back. It had to be done.
    “He’s not breathing, is he?” asked Carrie, her voice trembling. “He’s dead, Mark.”
    Mark unhooked Jake’s life jacket, then dropped his head onto his uncle’s chest. “I can’t hear a heartbeat,” he said. “Maybe there’s a faint one?”
    Carrie froze. She felt paralyzed, and scared to death. Then she heard a voice from her past: her CPR instructor. Everyone on the Choate swim team had to be certified.
    It was a long time ago, but it came back to her.
    “Hold his head up!” she told her brother. “I know mouth-to-mouth, Mark. We have to try.”
    Mark propped Jake up by the neck as Carrie tilted his head back to open his airway. She pinched his nostrils together and covered his mouth with hers. Then she started breathing into Jake’s mouth.
    “C’mon, Uncle Jake!” she pleaded between breaths.
“C’mon!”
    Thirty seconds passed—at least that long. Carrie was exhausted, her lungs pushed past their limit. Still, she wasn’t going to give up.
    “Damn it, Uncle Jake!
Breathe!
” she yelled.
    That’s when he did.
    A small breath gave way to a bigger one.
    And an even bigger one.
    Until he was breathing on his own.
    His eyes were closed and he was still out of it. But he was back from the dead.
    Mark listened again to his heart, just to make sure. When he heard it beating harder and more regularly, he pumped his fist in the air. “Jesus, you did it, Carrie! You really did it!”
    The two looped their arms