Sunday's Child by Clare Revell

Cal pulled on his life jacket and grabbed his helmet. “Let’s go.”
    The others followed him out. As helmsman, the boat was his, but he never pulled rank. If he needed to do something, he did it. They were more than a team, they were a family, and they always had each other’s backs. He turned on his radio. “OK, Tom. What have we got?”
    “The Petunia Bay, a cabin cruiser, lost both engines. And she’s taking on water after colliding with a buoy. She’s now adrift in the shipping lane. Porthness are sending the all-weather boat as back up, but it’ll take them a while to get down here.”
    Cal listened as they ran into the storm and climbed up into the boat. Once they were seated, the tractor started down the shingle beach into the water. The waves crashed far higher than usual, rain poured, and the wind rocked them in the safety of the cage. He checked the dials in front of him. Everything on and working. “Green across the board. Did you guys catch all that?”
    “When will they ever learn to check the weather?” Trevor asked.
    “Wish I knew. But we have a job to do.” He raised a hand so the tractor knew they were ready.
    As soon as the tractor stopped, Cal opened the throttle and took them out into the water. The waves were worse than they appeared as the small boat powered its way through them. The wind tossed them as much as the waves towered over them.
    Cal kept one eye on the radar and the other on the water. “I’m heading for their last known position, but they could be anywhere.”
    “Unless he had the sense to drop anchor. That would at least slow them somewhat.”
    Cal shrugged. “Maybe, though it wouldn’t do them much good in this.” He aimed the boat between the waves as much as he could. Not that it made much difference. It was going to be worse the further away from the shore they got.
    And it was.
    The twelve foot waves towered above them, doing their best to swamp and overturn the little lifeboat as it cut through the water towards the last known position of the Petunia Bay. He watched the radar, but nothing was showing.
    “Where is she?” Sam called. “I can’t see anything.”
    “If she was taking on water, she could have gone down. Or capsized anyway.” Trevor twisted in his seat.
    “Flare,” Phil yelled. “Seven o’clock.”
    Cal turned the boat and headed into the heart of the storm, keeping the bow of the boat into the breaking waves. Visibility was down to five feet.
    “There’s another flare,” Sam yelled. “But doesn’t look the same direction.”
    “Radar’s got something.” Cal squinted at the screen.
    “There. Two o’clock, there’s a light.”
    Cal aimed the boat at the faint light he could see between the towering waves. As he grew closer he could see the hull of the boat with a figure clinging to it. “Phil, toss the rope to him. If he catches it, bring him in that way. If not rope up and go get him.” He touched the mic button. “Penry base this is Ray of Hope. Found the Petunia Bay . We will need assistance to tow the capsized boat out of shipping lane. One in the water.”
    “Roger that, Cal. Will send out the RHIB.”
    Cal brought the boat around, bringing it in closer to the wrecked cruiser. He watched the figure on the boat catch the rope. Then he brought the lifeboat right alongside the upturned hull.
    Phil and Sam grabbed the man and pulled him into the safety of the lifeboat.
    “Is there anyone else with you?” Sam asked.
    “Harriet. Where is she? Did you pick her up, too?”
    Hattie’s out here? A stab of fear filling him, Cal turned in his seat, hoping he was wrong. The soaked figure was as unmistakable as his clipped posh accent. He wanted to berate the man for being stupid, but now wasn’t the time. “Where did you last see her, Markus?”
    “Didn’t you find her yet?”
    “We barely found you. Where did you last see her?” Oh, God, keep her safe out here.
    “Before we capsized. The boat flipped over so fast. When I came