11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Howard's boat was a half-cabin boat he used for fishing. Maybe a fifteen-footer, it looked like it had seen a fair bit of time on the water, but it appeared solid and well maintained. The boat was sitting on the back of a trailer, and it didn't take Howard and Owen long to reverse the four-wheel drive and attach the trailer to the tow bar. Owen's powerful LandCruiser wouldn't have any trouble hauling the large vessel.

"We don't have far to go, anyway, mate," Howard said. "I usually put her in at the boat ramp down the road a bit. Maybe ten minutes away, if that."

Owen nodded. Thank God. The quicker the better.

Owen twisted his hands in frustration as he watched Howard fiddling with the couplings. He was taking his time to connect the electric cables that would ensure the brake lights and indicators on the trailer worked. Owen couldn't give a shit about making sure the trailer and boat were correctly fitted. So long as the bloody trailer didn't fall off, who cared if any people who were driving behind couldn't see their lights? If it was only ten minutes away then nothing was going to happen and surely getting to the water was more important than being legal. This wasn't the time for doing things by the books. Owen paced but bit his tongue—after all, the old man was doing him a favour.

Once all the cables were connected to Howard's satisfaction, he turned to look at Owen. Owen held open the car door impatiently. "C'mon, Howard, jump in."

Howard hesitated beside the LandCruiser. "Is there anything you want from the house before we leave?" he asked. "I'm not sure what you might need but you're welcome to anything if I have it."

Owen warmed at the sensitivity shown by the older man but was impatient to get going. He indicated the back seat of the car. "I've got a pack in the back. I hope I've got what I need, but to be honest I'm probably not really thinking properly anyway."

"You got water? A first aid kit?"

Owen thought for a moment before nodding again. "Uh-huh. I tossed some water in before I left home. Not a lot, but a couple of litres. There's a first aid kit in the pack already. We keep it there for when we go hiking."

"Good-o, then. Well, let's get this show on the road."

Owen moved to let Howard climb in the passenger side of the vehicle and ran around the car, grabbing the door frame and heaving himself into the driver's seat. Within moments they were circling the open backyard, dragging the large boat behind them. Approximately ten minutes later, exactly as Howard said, they were pulling up to the turn-off for the boat ramp. A steep bitumen road led to a parking area that bordered the coastline. From the carpark, a long concrete ramp disappeared into the water; a short wharf sat a little further along.

"Hold it here a minute." Howard's instructions were the first words spoken since they'd been on the road. They'd both been listening intently to the car radio, too focused on getting updates to make conversation. There wasn't much they could say anyway.

Owen braked, bringing the four-wheel-drive and trailer to a halt at the top of the steep road. He looked at the other man.

"Look." Howard pointed to the digital clock on the dashboard.

Just before 10 a.m.

Fuck!

Both men stared at each other then turned in unison to look out of the car towards the expanse of waterway below them.

The coast looked beautiful. It really was a glorious day and the sun glinted off the water in the channel, highlighting the shades of blue and green with flashes of silver. Owen looked at the sky above. It was a picture-perfect expanse of blue with a few wispy clouds of white dotted across the horizon. Who would have thought that a disaster was about to befall the coast, a disaster with the potential to devastate the lives of so many people?

"I don't think we should go any further," Howard said.

Owen looked at him in shock. Is he crazy?

"Hell, no," Owen almost yelled. "I've come this far and I'm not stopping here. I understand if you don't want to come, and I don't blame you, but I'm getting to that island if it bloody well kills me."

Amazingly, Howard chuckled. "Yeah, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, mate." He took his seatbelt off and swivelled to look at Owen. "I told you I'd take you and I haven't changed my mind. I just think, given the time and the fact the wave is due to hit, we should sit it out for a bit and see what happens."

"But—"

"No buts, mate. Let's wait till it's passed then we'll get the boat into the water. If we try to do it now, we risk the wave damaging the boat. No boat and we won't get there at all."

Owen gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingers started to cramp. He had no choice but to agree. He couldn't risk his one chance to get to Sebastian, and that one chance rested with the boat.

The sick feeling that hadn't left him since he'd first heard the news, crested.

Owen nodded to Howard before switching off the engine. He picked up his phone and ignored the couple of missed calls that were registered on the screen—he'd checked caller ID and ignored the few friends who were obviously checking in—and tried Sebastian's phone again with the same frustrating result. He sent a quick text although he assumed Sebastian would have seen the missed calls if he was able to. Finished, he tossed the phone down in the centre console and stared out the windscreen at the picturesque waterway before him.

As they sat there and watched, and waited, Owen offered up a silent prayer. He wasn't a particularly religious man, but it felt right to pray at a time like this.

Please keep him safe. Take care of him for me. Let him know how much I love him.

Sebastian stopped paddling, the kayak gliding smoothly across the water as he closed his eyes and turned his face towards the sun. He luxuriated in the pleasant feeling of the warmth against his shoulders as he bobbed gently on the water. That was one of the things he loved about being on the water—being at one with nature. There were no interruptions, just peace, with time to think. It was his form of meditation, a calming balm to his soul.

A bird screeched in the distance. Sebastian opened his eyes, shielding them with his hand, to see an albatross soaring overhead. He smiled at the sight and the memory of when he and Owen had first come to the island and he'd been fascinated by the bird life and keen to be the first to spot each type of bird. Owen had teased Sebastian mercilessly for being a "crazy bird watcher" but he'd got in on the game and shown just as much excitement when they'd spotted their first Swift Parrot, a critically endangered species.

With those memories fresh in his mind, he got moving again, heading across the bay. The quicker he got back to shore, the sooner he could call Owen. It was time they had a chat and really talked about their issues. The time apart had gone on long enough and he was going to resolve things once and for all.

Sebastian didn't know what made him stop paddling. He drew the paddle from the water and held it across his lap as the kayak continued its forward motion. Without the sound of the blades cutting through the water, it was suddenly eerily quiet. He tilted his head to the side, brow burrowed as he looked for… What?

He was overcome by a strange sensation, the feeling of someone walking over his grave, as his grandmother used to say. He shivered as the chill ran down his spine. With the shudder came the sense of dread and unease. He swallowed heavily.

Sebastian looked out into the bay. Nothing looked untoward, apart from the unnatural silence from the birds that had been flying overhead only moments before, but he couldn't shake the feeling. Then the tide seemed to turn. He faced the land again and shook his head a few times, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Things appeared different, rocks near the shoreline he didn't remember seeing before—the landscape had changed. The urge to get out of the water was strong.

Plunging the paddle back into the sea he pulled forward. The blade scooped through the water as he picked up speed, the shore nearing with each stroke. Pull, pull, pull. His muscles screamed but something drove him to get back to land as soon as was humanly possible.

Something was very, very wrong.

As he neared the shore, instead of the water getting shallower, the water beneath the kayak seemed to swell, getting deeper—impossibly deeper. What the fuck! The water rose taking his small craft with it. He was lifted with the swell and maneuvering became impossible. He was at the mercy of the ocean and the bizarre current. He contemplated abandoning the kayak but one look down into the dark water beneath him convinced him he was better taking his chances above water regardless of the inability to steer the kayak properly. Then suddenly the choice was taken from him.

The bottom of the kayak scraped over a boulder—a huge rock that ordinarily would have marked the shoreline. The harsh sound made his skin crawl. His stomach lurched as the kayak tilted, nearly dumping him into the ocean. Only his fast reflexes to regain his balance kept him upright. His relief didn't last long. The kayak crashed into more rocks, and he was flung into the water. The sudden cold stole his breath as he plunged beneath the surface, his wetsuit providing little protection. He fought the current, tossing and turning, trying to determine which way was up. His wrist smashed against a rock, the pain instant and sharp. He jerked his left hand to his chest to stop it moving, but the movement only served to stop his upward momentum. He gave a brief thanks he was wearing a lifejacket, but it wasn't doing a lot of good while he was submerged. I need to get to the top! He kicked frantically, relieved when his head finally broke the surface. He sucked a huge lungful of air into his burning lungs, gulping salt water at the same time. His nostrils burnt at the assault, and he spluttered, coughing up the foul water. Debris swirled around him as the water pushed him further inland, sticks and branches scratching at his exposed skin. He kicked hard to compensate for his useless arm, the pain in his wrist excruciating. His shin scraped against something underwater, the pain causing a wave of nausea.

He looked around frantically, mind swirling as he tried to work out what the hell was going on and how to get out of the situation. The whole experience was unreal, like nothing he'd ever experienced before and he'd have thought it was a dream—no, a nightmare—except the pain was too real to be figment of his imagination. He fought another bolt of excruciating pain and a wave of nausea as he slammed into yet another rock.

He wasn't going to let this… this… this whatever it was get the best of him. He wasn't going to die out on the water doing something he loved. He was going to get himself out of the sea and back onto dry land. And back to Owen. He sobbed at the thought of Owen. Owen would be devastated if something happened to him and besides, he needed to tell him how much he loved him. He couldn't die without letting Owen know that he meant everything to him. Everything .

Sebastian was well past the shoreline now, or where the shoreline should have been, but the water showed no signs of stopping. He was carried along with the huge amount of debris that was being collected along the way. He knew there was open ground below him, but beyond that was the start of bushland. The towering gums seemed to race towards him—or rather, him towards them—and he only had a moment to panic before he was slammed into a broad trunk, the rough bark tearing at his skin. Then his head smashed into the next tree and things became blurry. He was carried forward until finally he landed on his back, blinking upward at the canopy of leaves unable to make sense of what had just happened. And then there was nothing.