Chapter SevenHull!” Debbie shouted as loudly as she could.
By the wind’s roar—now augmented by the breaking waves—she knew the rear door was still open and Silvan was still with her.
If he responded, she couldn’t hear it. But the roar filled her ears—they’d jump together.
She flew so close above the next crest that she could have stepped out onto the wavetop. A second later, she was over the yawning chasm of a trough. But the hull had survived or at least a piece of it.
Forty.
Thirty.
At twenty she reefed back on the cyclic hard, a final flare to dump speed and trade it in for a momentary, unsustainable hover.
A last kick of the rudder pedals.
Impact!
More of a crash than a landing onto the trawler, but it had worked.
Now all her years of training kicked in.
Not turning to Silva
