Page 56 of Wild Tempest

Jack seemed to be improving, but he was far from his normal self.

I escorted Paul to the head and stood outside while he did his business. When he was done, I showed him to a stateroom and handcuffed him to another grab rail.

He hadn't said a word since we left the Morya.

"Are you hungry?"

He just sat there on the bunk, staring into space. After a moment, he said, "I could eat.”

I wasn't sure when the last time he’d had any food or water.

It was time to take care of myself before I couldn’t. With a little trepidation, I dosed up with the antidote. Tempest did as well. We’d both been putting it off, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary.

I scrounged up a protein bar and a bottle of water and brought them to Paul. Then I went back up to the bridge and made another distress call. The navigation screens and electronics were still on the fritz with some kind of magnetic interference. I was more than ready to get out of this place.

In the engine room, I tried to troubleshoot the situation, running another diagnostic. I still kept getting an error with the fuel system. The diagnostic said it was the fuel filter. I knew that wasn't the problem.

It must have taken an hour of poking around and testing, but I finally figured out it was the fuel cut-off solenoid.

The storm tossed the boat around a bit, but nothing compared to what we experienced prior.

After digging around, I found a spare. I manually shut off the fuel supply, replaced the solenoid, bled the lines again, and made sure fuel was flowing.

I hustled back up to the bridge and fired up the engines. After a few chugs, they purred to life.

I exhaled a relieved breath and shared a triumphant glance with Tempest. We weighed anchor, and I turned the boat around and headed back toward Coconut Key.

“What's going to happen to my father?" Tempest asked.

"He’ll be processed at the station and arraigned in the morning. If he’s charged, it sounds like he's got a pretty good defense by way of insanity. He clearly wasn't in his right mind when we found him.”

Tempest frowned. "He doesn't even recognize me."

“That may be the very thing that keeps him out of jail.”

We cruised back to the island as fast as the boat would take us.

My phone erupted with a flurry of missed calls and texts when we got out of the Devil’s Tide and the satellite started working again.

I’d missed a lot.

Daniels had called several times. Peyton’s friend, Courtney, had left a few frantic messages.

I called the sheriff and filled him in on the situation.

"I thought you guys had disappeared forever," he said.

"You’re not rid of us yet." I told him we were en route and would be at the station before long with Paul. I told him to have emergency services standing by. Dale was doing okay, but he had a slight fever, and I worried the wound had gotten infected.

Paris Delaney waited with her news crew on the dock when we sailed into the marina at the station. We pulled into a slip, and Tempest tied off the boat. EMTs and paramedics boarded and triaged Dale, starting him on IV fluids and antibiotics. They transferred him to a gurney and carried him off the boat.

I escorted Paul from the salvage tug, and the camera closed in when we hit the dock.

Paris asked, "Are the rumors true? Did you find the Almaz Morya?”

I declined to comment.

Paul kept his mouth shut, still somewhere in between madness and sanity. I think things were slowly coming back for him, and he was trying to put all the pieces together.