Free Sail by James Patterson, Howard Roughan Page A

desperately called out their names. He couldn’t possibly scream any louder, but he was afraid they couldn’t hear him against the crashing waves and thunder. Hell, he could barely hear himself.
    Then, like a sick, cruel joke, there
was
something he could hear. As the wind whipped against his cheeks, whistling fiercely in his ears, there came a familiar sound.
    His brother, Stuart, laughing again.
    “Shut up!” Jake screamed in vain. “I know what I did! That’s why I’m here—trying to put your family back together again.”
    Another wave slammed his back and knocked some sense into him. He could feel the boat slipping farther away from his fingers. The pain was shooting down his arm like fire. How crazy was that? Drenched in water, and all he could feel was heat.
    Then, out of nowhere, it came to him.
    Literally.
    There was a momentary break in the crashing waves—the break he was looking for.
    Dropping from the last crest, the boat suddenly plunged deep into a swell—so deep that the bow and Jake were submerged completely.
    If he could just hold on for a few more seconds, maybe Sir Isaac Newton would save the day.
    For every action there was a reaction, equal and opposite.
    Hell, yeah!
    Like a slingshot, the bow of the boat soared back into the air, giving Jake the momentum he needed. Timing it right, he swung his other hand as high as he could, barely catching the edge but doing it.
    Now he had the leverage. Tapping his last bit of strength, Jake pulled himself up and dragged his body onto the deck.
    He was safe!
    But as he spotted Katherine hanging perilously over the rail portside, he knew right away.
    Mark wasn’t.
    Chapter 33
    JAKE SCRAMBLED ACROSS THE DECK, every step treacherously off-balance, the storm threatening to toss him right back into the sea. If that happened, he was finished for sure.
    As he ducked under the boom, the force of another wave finally took out his feet. He was about to be swept overboard again when he grabbed a cleat at the last second and hung on, gritting his teeth until his jaw ached.
    Sprawled on his stomach, he looked up at Katherine struggling to pull Mark from the water somehow. The line wasn’t budging, but she kept pulling and pulling. Her slender frame was contorted, and she looked like a hunchback. She was something else, wasn’t she? The Dunnes were all turning out to be fighters.
    Christ!
thought Jake. He was so spent himself, could he even make a difference? Could the two of them do anything for Mark?
    “I’m coming!” he yelled. “Hold on, Katherine!”
    He lifted himself off the deck and covered the last ten feet to reach her. Immediately grabbing Mark’s line, he looked out to see him swallowing a wave of water, his head barely staying above the surface.
    “Please, Jake,”
said Katherine. It was all she could manage.
    Jake looked down at her hands, the blood dripping from her palms. They had been shredded by the rope, but she wasn’t about to let go.
    Well, neither was he. With everything he had left, he started to pull. Slowly the line moved, inches at a time.
    It wasn’t enough, though, not nearly enough to get Mark back. Jake turned around to scan the deck, his vision one big blur through the sheets of rain. Then he saw something that might help.
    “The winch!” said Jake. “The electric winch!”
    Only it was too far away.
    Unless . . .
    Jake bolted toward the helm, using the rail to keep himself from falling. When he came back to Katherine, he had a coil of thick rope in his hands. Quickly he tied a knot around Mark’s line and pushed the knot as far as he could from the edge of the boat.
    Next he grabbed Katherine’s hands.
    “As I crank in the line, keep pushing the knot toward Mark. Push it out.”
    She nodded as he fired up the winch.
    It creaked. It moaned.
    Slowly but surely, it began to pull Mark up from the storm. Then he was on the deck. He was shivering. But he was alive—and he looked a lot like the little boy he had once