Read Online Seize the Storm by Michael Cadnum - Free Book Online

forced out of the water, and they made a determined whining noise until the yacht dropped back down into the sea. To be on deck was to be wet, and Axel and Martin had both donned bright yellow waterproof jackets and high black boots. Even so, salt water stung their eyes and lips.
    Axel didn’t bother to say anything more, just gazed out from the helm, keeping them as steady as possible at ten knots per hour, fast enough that seas crashed into and over the yacht, soaking every inch of rigging and making the scuppers overflow.
    And the yacht was laboring. There was something slowing her, forcing her back. Moment by moment she was less nimble, less seaworthy. There was the faintest sensation of trouble communicated through the deck underfoot.
    â€œYou better go forward, Martin,” said Axel, “and see what’s wrong.”

M ARTIN MADE HIS WAY along the yacht, clinging to the rail outside the cabins, heading toward the prow.
    The sun was still bright, but the clouds ahead of them looked like a gigantic chunk of nighttime, ripped out and stuck against the blue.
    â€œDon’t come out here,” Leonard called into the wind. “Martin, it’s not safe.”
    A great wad of fishing net had plowed into the prow, looking like a giant, diaphanous amoeba that spun out tendrils. Leonard was grabbing at it, hauling at it, trying to free the yacht from the seaborne mess. Martin joined in the great effort, seizing the netting and trying to drag it to starboard.
    The netting, which had floated in a tangled hairball of filament and sea slime all the way from Malaysia, as far as Martin could tell, was like a living thing determined to make the vessel its new purchase on life.
    Leonard was struggling to stay where he was, hanging on to the rail along the ship’s prow with his bright yellow waterproof gloves, the sea washing over him. He was wearing one of the waterproof jackets, too, and with the hood folded back it gave him a weather-soaked, heroic appearance.
    Martin could see the aspiring football player in his uncle now, not good enough to be a starter but showing up for practice every day. He also looked a little crazy, as though if the water pounded him hard enough it might wash him off and drown him and he wouldn’t mind.
    The two of them attacked the great bolus of fishing filament once again, and this time they made progress. Part of the netting tore and released its grip on the prow. The yacht was still tangled, but the fight was no longer hopeless.
    A wave broke across the prow, and Leonard had to get a fresh grip to keep from being swept away.
    â€œWhat would the boat tell you to do?” asked Martin. “If she spoke to you—what would she say?”
    â€œWhat?” called Leonard, either not understanding Martin’s question, with the seas crashing, or not wanting to.
    â€œWhat would she tell you?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Leonard, blinking against the salt water that came from all directions.
    â€œAsk her,” called Martin against the shriek of the wind.
    Leonard gave a nod and squinted, readying his resolve for a serious inquiry. But what he said surprised Martin. “I never really believed all that, Martin. About talking to the spirit of the boat. I made that all up.”
    Martin was relieved to hear that Leonard was not a superstitious nut, but he was a little disappointed, too. Some small part of him had wanted to believe in such things.
    Leonard saw his nephew’s distress.
    â€œI could ask her anyway,” he suggested.
    Martin gave a nod, his weatherproof gear creaking like plastic armor.
    â€œWhat should I do?” called Leonard into the gale. “ Athena , tell me how to act with everything in shreds, all the air and all the water, and my life with it.”
    It had seemed like a wry joke at first, but now it was all too serious. His uncle was a little unhinged after all, Martin saw. Maybe Leonard was hoping a karate chop of