Page 55 of Shielding Instinct

“Cerberus, move it! Faster! Get off the sand!” That was Reaper’s booming voice.

As he laid the guy on the rocks, Hawkeye spotted Reaper on the road with the four K9s sitting in a row. He was flagging down a pickup truck and scoop-gesturing to move them into position.

“My guy Roy is receiving CPR.” Hawkeye hollered as he deposited this man beside a boulder, ensuring Reaper was aware.

“He’s first to go,” Reaper yelled back. “In coming!”

Hawkeye squatted over the man he’d helped to the rocks and used his body to take the pounding of the wave, like his brothers had a moment ago.

The guy underneath him smelled like diesel.

Then Hawkeye remembered the boat accident.

“Listen up,” Reaper called through cupped hands. “I’ll keep wave watch. That looks like the last rogue wave, at least for now. Cerberus, all six of the rip current victims are accounted for. There were thirteen people on the beach during your rescue effort. That’s nineteen. We need to find a good headcount for the number of people on the boat to figure out how many got swept in by the waves and how many are unaccounted for. Boat people, raise your hand if you know your headcount.”

Three men raised their hands.

“Sixteen, including crew,” one man called.

“Was the crew in uniform?” Reaper asked, pointing at the man so the guy knew the question was directed at him.

The man nodded, then shook his hand along his torso. “White shorts, navy blue shirts.”

“Life vests?” Reaper asked.

There was a general shaking of heads.

Hawkeye cast his gaze along the huddled group. No one matched the description for the crew.

“No,” a guy yelled, then stopped for a hacking jag. “No, there were twelve of us. We’re in for a sales meeting. There were the four crew members, and there was the guy with the jet ski who met us out there. He was doing the flippy doojiggers when the boat rolled. Bright board shorts. I haven’t seen him since he was in the air.” Then the man turned, looking out to sea.

They all did.

The boat was a torch on the water. It reminded Hawkeye of the 19th-century Bierstadt painting,The Burning Ship, he’dseen in a Vermont museum on some family holiday. Hawkeye remembered the horror of it. The idea that there was no way to survive. And that memory was why Hawkeye had gone the Army Ranger route rather than becoming a Navy SEAL.

In general, he wasn’t a fan of giving up survival options.

“Nineteen from the beach. Seventeen from the boat event. Five Iniquus. Four K9s, that gives us forty-five. Levi!”

“On it.” Levi leaped onto the highest boulder.

“Everyone, stay very still while we get a head count,” Reaper commanded. “It’s imperative that we get this right. No one moves.” Reaper turned his head and spoke with someone, then turned back. “Cerberus, we have a pickup for the CPR victim. You’ve been accounted for. You—and only you—can move. Put Roy on a surfboard, and let’s get him loaded up.” Reaper held a stopping sign gesture in the air. “No one else moves.”

Levi called out, “We’re missing seven.”

“Seven,” each of the Iniquus men called out.

Cooper gave a sharp bark, “I’m here. I’m ready. Put me to work.”

Hawkeye gave him the hand signal that told Cooper to hold, then he ran for his surfboard, lying behind a boulder, and headed for Roy.

“People not on my team, before you leave the area,” Reaper called out, “we need to write down your name, so everyone is accounted for. If you have transportation, please offer a ride to those from the boat. Again, I’m asking you to stay still while we continue our rescue efforts of the rip current victim.”

Hawkeye snagged up a sopping wet beach towel as he ran toward Roy.

“In the meantime,” Reaper called. “I need two groups of four volunteers who are physically capable of searching alongthe shoreline. One group will head north and the other south to see if anyone washed into a different cove. Each group should include someone with first aid training. Come forward if you’re ready, able, and willing.”

When Hawkeye reached the flat rock, the bystanders who had performed CPR crawled out of the way, winded from their sustained effort.

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