"Ugh," Mia sighed. That's…. better.
She buttoned her jeans and walked over to the sink.
"Phew." She turned on the tap and started washing her hands.
Is it too late to say sorry?
Mia hummed the melody of an old pop song, trying to relax as the soap washed away.
Then, she felt it. A low, creeping vibration. Her body trembled slightly, even though she was standing perfectly still.
What?!
THUD.
The sound was deafening. The entire sailboat pitched violently sideways. Mia was thrown backward, slamming hard against the heavy wooden bathroom door.
"Ah!" she cried out, falling forward. She threw her hands out to break her fall, but the violent pitching of the boat was too much.
Her palms hit the slick floor and instantly slid out from under her.
She slammed into the deck, chest and stomach first.
The brutal impact knocked the wind completely out of her. A violent shockwave of pain ripped through her body.
Her back throbbed from the initial slam against the solid wood door, but now her ribs and stomach burned from the crushing belly-flop against the hard floor.
"Ugh," she gasped, desperately trying to suck air back into her empty lungs.
Her whole body aching, she scrambled clumsily to her feet and looked around, trying to clear her head.
Did something hit the boat? she thought, the room spinning around her.
What's going on?
Not long after, she heard the hissing. She looked forward and noticed the sink she had just been using.
The violent impact had snapped the plumbing right off the hull. The tap was completely destroyed, and a highly pressurized geyser of freezing ocean water was violently blasting out from underneath the cabinet.
The water instantly overflowed the basin, pouring down the walls.
"Shit," she muttered instinctively.
This wasn't good. The freezing water was already soaking under her shoes.
She quickly scrambled to her feet, grabbed the door handle, and pulled. To her absolute surprise, it wouldn't budge.
Mia's heart sank to the bottom of her stomach. She tried again, bracing her feet and pulling the heavy wood with all her strength, but the massive impact outside had completely warped the doorframe.
It was wedged entirely shut.
"Shit! Ugh!"
She quickly backed away from the blasting water. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as she looked around for anything she could use to pry the door open.
But there was nothing.
She slapped her hands against the front pockets of her jeans. Empty.
No, no, no. She frantically checked her back pockets just in case, but her phone wasn't there either. She probably had left it upstairs in the pilothouse.
What do I do?
Panic taking over completely, Mia threw herself at the heavy wooden door again.
"Hey!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, smashing both her fists against the solid wood repeatedly with all her strength. "Hey! Dad?"
She looked down. The freezing water was rising terrifyingly fast, already swirling just below her knees.
The thick denim of her jeans was completely soaked through, clinging like ice to her skin and weighing her legs down.
She needed help. Now.
"Dad! Lucas! Is anyone there?!"
Up on the main deck, David was already scrambling to his feet. The impact had knocked the wind out of him, but pure adrenaline quickly took over.
Because of the thick fog and the churning water, he couldn't see clearly what was down there, so his mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario.
That blue light. A submarine was surfacing blind, right directly beneath their keel.
If thousands of tons of rising metal breached exactly where they were floating, the fiberglass sailboat would be splintered into toothpicks.
They needed to move. Now.
David's wet shoes slipped against the slick fiberglass deck as he sprinted for the pilothouse. He grabbed the heavy door handle, yanked it open, and threw himself inside the enclosed control room.
The contrast was jarring. Inside, it was quiet. Lucas was sitting safely on the floor rug, still clutching his plastic T-Rex, looking confused by the sudden jolt but unhurt.
"Hey!" David yelled, his chest heaving as he locked eyes with his crewmate, who was just starting to stand up from the navigation desk. "Something just hit us from underneath! We need to get the engine started, right now!"
The crewmate's eyes went wide. He didn't ask questions. He just nodded and lunged toward the helm station—the main steering console at the front of the room.
Starting a sailboat's inboard engine was usually as simple as starting a car.
The crewmate reached for the ignition panel, flipped the main battery switch, and twisted the metal key.
Click.
Nothing happened. There was no familiar rumble of the diesel motor turning over.
Instead, a high-pitched electrical whine filled the room. The digital GPS screen, the depth finder, and the radar all flickered violently, the green numbers blurring into a chaotic mess of static before dying completely.
The crewmate swallowed hard. He twisted the key again, aggressively pushing the throttle lever forward.
Click. Click. Click.
The engine was completely dead.
"Ummm, David?" Panic flashed across the crewmate's pale face. "It won't start."
"Oh, come on!" David stared at the dark console in disbelief for a split second before his survival instincts kicked in. There was only one option left.
"Get outside and hoist the sail!" David shouted, pointing toward the heavy door. "It's our only shot. If the wind catches, it might just be strong enough to pull us out of here. I'll stay here and try to bypass the ignition. Go!"
The crewmate didn't hesitate. He bolted for the exit, his boots thudding heavily against the wood, and threw himself out into the freezing fog.
The heavy door slammed shut behind him, leaving David and Lucas alone in the sudden, eerie quiet of the pilothouse.
"Come on. Come on..." David muttered, trying again. He yanked the plastic ignition panel loose, his fingers frantically digging at the wires behind it to see if the impact had knocked something loose. He twisted the key one more time.
Nothing. It just still wouldn't start!
"Ugh, why won't you start?!" He slammed his fist against the console in a mix of pure anger and dread. If it was what he thought it was, they might already be too late.
He slowly sank into the pilot's chair, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead. Think, David. Think. His whole family's survival was ultimately up to him.
Then, he heard it.
A voice. A faint, frantic shouting echoing up from below deck, coming from the narrow hallway where the bedrooms and the head were located.
It took his brain only a split second to process the muffled sound.
Mia?
His blood ran cold. He suddenly realized she hadn't come back up since the impact. Without a second of hesitation, David abandoned the dead engine.
"Dad?" Lucas called out from the floor rug. The little boy's face shifted, his bottom lip trembling as he registered the pure panic in his father's eyes. "Dad!"
But David didn't even hear him.
He bolted for the companionway, practically jumping down the steep, wooden stairs into the belly of the boat.
"Mia!"
David hit the lower deck hallway and finally saw it. The heavy mahogany bathroom door was violently warped. The massive impact had buckled the entire doorframe, wedging the solid wood shut at a crooked, unnatural angle.
"No. No. No."
He rushed forward, his wet shoes splashing in the narrow hallway. Freezing water was already forcefully pushing its way out from underneath the door, pouring through the tiny, tight gap at the floorboards.
"Mia? Mia!" he shouted, slamming his palms flat against the jammed wood.
"Dad!" Mia cried out from the other side, her voice muffled but desperate. "Help! I'm stuck! The door won't open!"
"Damn it!" David cursed. He smashed his shoulder against the door twice out of pure frustration, but it felt like hitting a solid brick wall.
Between the buckled frame and the immense pressure of the water pushing from the inside, there was no way he could force it open by hand.
"Mia, hold on!" David yelled, his chest heaving. "I'm getting the axe!"
"Dad! You gotta hurry!" Mia's voice cracked in terror.
Inside the pitch-black bathroom, the water was rising with lethal speed. She tipped her chin up, standing on the very tips of her toes just to keep her nose above the freezing, swirling surface.
Suddenly, her wet shoes slipped on the slick fiberglass floor. She lost her balance and plunged completely beneath the freezing water.
She thrashed in the dark, fighting her way back up and breaking the surface with a violent gasp.
"There's—" she choked as a wave of water splashed into her mouth. She slipped under again, her voice instantly silenced by the heavy water.
A second later, she breached, coughing violently. "Too much water!"
David instantly knew exactly how much danger his daughter was in. He needed that axe—now.
Without wasting another second, he spun away from the buckled door and sprinted blindly down the narrow, flooding hallway, leaving the muffled sounds of Mia thrashing in the dark behind him.