Chapter 95: The Last Boat

The torn sail appeared above the outer rocks, vanished, then rose again as the fishing boat climbed the swell. Two men bent over the oars. A third stood at the bow with a line ready.

Elspeth sent the shore crew farther along the landing. Severin followed with the coil against his right hip. When the bowman threw, the fisherman beside him caught the rope and passed its loose end back.

"Round the post. Keep it running."

Severin fed it around the timber with his right hand. The boat fell away beneath them, pulling the rope tight. He gave ground when the fisherman did, then hauled as the bow came round. His sleeve dragged across the burn.

The crew brought her alongside the landing. Men caught the gunwale and held it while the fishermen climbed out. One missed the step. Rafael caught him under the arm with his left hand.

Elspeth counted them.

"Where’s the fourth?"

"Over the side." The bowman leaned against the post, still holding his rope. "Before we turned back. We couldn’t find him."

"And the other boat?"

"Past the refuge. Their mast was leaning. They were trying to clear the outer rocks."

Elspeth made him point out where. Then she sent Carrick’s supply chest ahead with two men and called for the doctor to be brought across the ridge. She went after them while Severin followed Leo onto the cutter.

Frank had the working boat ready to lower.

"We stay outside the reef," he told Leo. "If the steering gets worse, we leave. Crowther takes the boat. The islander shows him the way."

Leo nodded. "Severin, go with Crowther. Rafael and Armin stay here."

The man replacing Finch held the wheel while Frank watched the bow against the quay. A sailor crouched below the rail beside the hull patch. When the cutter moved away, he went down to the leak.

They rounded the island under steam. Wind drove spray across the deck from one side while the older swell lifted them from the other. Frank checked the heading before each turn and left more room for it than Severin remembered them needing.

"That wind’s come round too fast," he said to Crowther.

A broken fishing float came alongside.

"That’s off her nets," the Grayhook boatman said. He pointed beyond it. "There."

Through the rain, Severin saw a dark hull lying across the foot of a rock shoulder. Its seaward end lifted, struck stone and settled crookedly. A man stood higher up, gripping a stump of rigging. Three more were below him.

Frank turned away from the breaking water and brought the cutter into the partial shelter of the outer rock. Crowther checked the working boat’s lines and sent two experienced men to the oars, the Grayhooker among them. Once they were seated, he climbed down. Severin followed, keeping his left hand off the ladder.

They carried a stretcher board between the thwarts. Crowther laid a coil where he could reach it.

"Stay low. Move when I tell you."

The boatman took them through a narrow gap behind the rock shoulder. Water still broke over its lower edge, but most of the swell struck on the other side. He waited through two surges before putting the bow close enough for Crowther to step out.

Severin followed. His boot slipped on weed. Crowther caught his coat and shoved him higher before the next wash reached them.

"Up there."

The fisherman above the wreck came toward them on his backside, dragging one foot. Crowther caught his arm. Severin helped lower him into the boat, using his shoulder beneath the man’s weight rather than pulling with his fingers.

Below the shoulder, another fisherman lay pinned across broken planking. A beam pressed into his side. Farther aft, a man with a split lip crouched behind the remaining hull, his arms hooked over its edge. He lifted his head when Crowther called.

"Stay there. We’ll get you."

The fourth man clung to the exposed bow. His red cap had caught on a splinter beside him. Each wave lifted the bow away from the rock, opening a gap beneath his feet, then drove it back.

Crowther passed Severin a line.

"Keep it clear of that splinter. Don’t let it snag."

Severin crouched above the gap and paid out rope while Crowther reached the man. The fisherman let go with one hand, missed Crowther’s arm and caught it on the second try.

The boatman held the working boat farther back, pulling ahead whenever water surged through the gap.

Crowther secured the line beneath the fisherman’s arms and began drawing him toward the higher stone. Severin hauled beside him. The rope slid over his right glove, dragging the burned skin beneath his sleeve. He set his heels farther apart.

The man gained a foothold. His knee came over the broken bow.

A wave struck beyond the shoulder and threw water across it from a new angle.

Severin flattened against the stone. Salt filled his mouth. Below him, the bow rose sideways, higher than it had before. Crowther let rope run, shouting for the man to get clear.

The bow slammed the fisherman against the rock before he could lift his other leg.

Severin felt the rope jerk through his hand and caught it again as the fisherman fell into the gap.

Crowther was already hauling.

"Pull."

They brought him onto the shoulder. Blood ran from his ear and spread beneath the back of his head, where the skull had been driven inward. Crowther bent over him, felt his neck and put his face close to the open mouth.

The boatman called from below.

Crowther did not answer at first. He checked again, then shook his head.

Severin kept hold of the line. The man’s leg moved when the next wash reached his boot.

They lowered him into the working boat beside the first survivor. The boatman looked down at his face and stopped speaking. His companion pushed them off before the hull could catch against the rock, and the two oarsmen took both men back toward the cutter.

Crowther turned to the pinned fisherman. The wreck had shifted nearer the shoulder. A length of net now stretched across the place they had used to climb down.

Severin drew his dagger and cut the net where it caught against a broken rib of timber. He kept the blade away from Crowther’s rescue line. The wet cord resisted until he pulled it taut over the wood.

"Get this off," the pinned man said.

Crowther tested the beam with both hands. It moved a little, and the fisherman screamed.

"Hold his shoulders," Crowther told Severin.

Severin crouched behind the fisherman, bracing with his good leg. The cut below his knee pulled as he settled. The man tried to turn toward the beam, and Severin held him against his chest.

Crowther laid a loose length of timber across a raised edge of rock and shoved its far end beneath the beam. As he bore down, wash struck his boots and the timber slipped sideways. The weight dropped back, making the fisherman cry out against Severin’s sleeve.

Crowther reset it farther under the beam. This time he kept his boot beside the timber to stop it sliding, then leaned down until the beam lifted.

Severin drew the fisherman back a few inches. Something caught beneath his coat. He stopped, cut the cloth clear and moved him again when Crowther lifted.

The man came free with a raw cry that ended in coughing. Blood reached his lips. Under the torn coat, the side of his chest lay unevenly, and a deep cut opened each time he struggled for breath.

Crowther eased the beam back down as the working boat returned through the gap.

The oarsmen passed the board up. Crowther steadied the fisherman’s head while Severin helped slide it beneath him. They secured him without drawing the straps across the crushed part of his chest.

The man with the split lip had stopped answering. He still held the hull when Crowther reached him.

"Let go."

His fingers stayed hooked.

Severin helped ease one hand loose. Crowther took the other, and between them they brought him onto the shoulder. He could stand only while they held him.

The board went into the boat first. They settled the second man low beside it, then climbed in where the boatman directed, leaving the oars clear.

The boat took water over its bow as they backed out. Severin bailed with the tin Crowther pushed toward him. His torn left fingers could guide the handle but would not close firmly around it. He used his right hand and rested the tin against the gunwale between throws.

At the cutter, sailors caught the boat’s lines and lowered hauling ropes for the stretcher. Crowther fastened them at either end of the board. As the boat rose beside the steel hull, he and Severin lifted while the men above hauled. Rafael guided the board over the rail with his left hand; a sailor steadied its other end.

Severin stayed below until the man with the split lip was aboard.

On deck, Armin drew a blanket beneath the injured fisherman’s feet. His right hand shook against the buckle of a securing strap. He pressed it flat against the board, waited, then finished with his left.

Severin looked toward Leo. The Warden was helping Crowther secure the other survivor.

"Get the boat up," Frank called.

The crew brought it inboard. Behind them, the dead fisherman lay covered and secured against the roll. Frank ordered the bow turned seaward, but it swung slowly. The helmsman repeated the heading, then called that she was still falling off. The gap between her side and the breaking reef narrowed.

Frank went to his shoulder. "Keep the wheel over. Slow ahead."

A cross-sea struck before the turn was complete. The cutter rolled, and the stretcher shifted against its lashings. Severin dropped beside it with a sailor. They held the board while Crowther took up the loosened line.

Below deck, someone called for another hand at the water.

The bow came round. Frank kept them clear of the reef and made for the refuge cove.

Carrick and Elspeth were waiting above the wash. Severin came ashore with the crushed fisherman on the first trip. Rope and crossed timbers barred the cavern mouth.

Carrick had blankets spread over boards outside it, against the shelter of the rock wall. He knelt beside the crushed fisherman before the carrying straps were loose.

Severin held the lamp while Carrick cleared blood from the man’s mouth. The doctor opened his coat and put a pad over the bleeding cut.

"Hold that. Here, not higher."

Severin passed the lamp to a helper and put his right hand where Carrick showed him. The man’s breath rasped close to his wrist.

Carrick checked beneath the torn shirt. He listened at the chest, then moved his fingers to the neck.

Elspeth looked up toward the cleft.

"Can we carry him?"

"He won’t last the climb."

Carrick adjusted the man’s position and checked again. The helper holding the lamp reached for fresh cloth at the same time; its light swung off the wound.

"Keep that still," Carrick said. "Elspeth, a fresh dressing."

She took one from the chest. Ruth would have had it open already.

The boat brought Leo and the other two survivors ashore. The man with the split lip slid sideways against the islander supporting him. Carrick looked over.

"Lie him down. Keep the blankets under him too."

The fisherman they had taken off the higher rock crawled closer and helped spread them. His wet sleeve shook against the cloth.

Carrick checked the man they had just laid down and came back. Severin kept pressure on the pad. Blood warmed the cloth beneath his hand, though the fisherman’s exposed skin felt cold. The breaths came farther apart.

Carrick took over the pad and told Severin to support the man’s head. He worked until blood stopped welling from the side cut, but more appeared at the mouth. The fisherman tried to cough and could not finish. Carrick looked toward the cavern.

"No," Elspeth said.

"I could keep him alive in there."

"You said you wouldn’t take anyone back."

Carrick looked down at the man. His fingers searched the neck again.

Leo came beside the board. "The refuge stays closed."

Carrick kept his hand in place for another few seconds. Then he guided Elspeth’s hand onto the dressing and told her where to press.

Severin supported the fisherman’s head. A thin breath stirred against his sleeve.

Carrick rose and moved toward the crossed timbers. Leo stepped after him.

"Carrick. Stop."

Carrick took the last step and put his hand on the lashing.