Storm the Author's Cut Read Online Free PDF

the men who had been aboard it. She had forgotten Shane.
    The overcast sky was overcast but the ocean below was only rippled, barely enough wind to keep their ride from being smooth as they flew south along the east coast of Moresby Island, the second largest island of Haida Gwaii.
    Lucas switched channels on the radio to hear the latest marine forecast. The radio operator reported a gale blowing on the west coast of Moresby, with winds rising on Moresby's east coast in the afternoon.
    Luke pulled out the map again when they reached the northerly edge of their assigned search quadrant. Their search area was roughly ten miles by ten miles square but she'd lost track of their location when they entered the group of islands.
    Luke's large-scale map showed a confusing jumble of small islands, water, and the inlets typical of the beautiful South Moresby area, and he traced their search pattern with his finger on the map. Without reference to the map, Laurie would have had no idea at all of their location.
    When she saw a strange collection of debris on the water, she pointed and Luke circled, dropping towards the water. As they came closer she spotted something orange—the color of the life jackets the missing plane would have carried as safety gear.
    They dropped lower. Laurie was still straining to see when Luke pulled the stick back and they lifted up to return to their search pattern.
    "Garbage bag," he muttered. "Someone threw garbage overboard."
    They swooped down time and time again. Sometimes Luke saw some unexplained incongruity in the land or water below and banked to investigate; sometimes it was Laurie who pointed downward.
    She lost track of time. The constant throb of the engines was so loud that sometimes she felt she could not hear anything at all; then Luke would speak softly over the intercom and she would hear his voice clearly.
    Darwin Sound—a long, narrow passage—was the roughest spot of all. Luke told her that the wind often funneled through it, making eddies and swirls as the passage narrowed. He was alert as they came into the narrow part, anticipating the wild ride as the little seaplane was tossed about sickeningly. Once they were through, he circled back to fly through a second time, then continued their search pattern.
    "I could have missed something there," she told him. "I don't think I got a good enough look at that island in the middle."
    "I know, but we'll go on. We have to cover the entire quadrant first. If we don't find anything, then we double back on the doubtful spots."
    The sky darkened until she doubted her ability to see anything on the ground. They flew on, back and forth, covering their area like a vacuum cleaner's pattern on a living room carpet. They stared at the water, the rocks, and the trees.
    When the rain started they could see even less, but Luke flew on. It seemed hours later when he marked their location on the map, then called Coast Guard 22.
    "This is CF 191. We're heading in to Lyell Island camp for fuel, then we'll resume searching."
    "See anything at all?" crackled the coast guard pilot in Laurie's ears.
    "Nothing," Luke told him. "Conditions are deteriorating here. The narrow passages are gusty, especially Darwin Sound. How's the weather forecast? Any chance of a break?"
    The coast guard man laughed bitterly. "They've predicted sunshine for California—we get the storms."
    When Luke had cleared with the helicopter, he turned towards the east and Lyell Island.
    "It's getting worse?"
    "Looks like it," he agreed. "We'll listen to the new lighthouse weather observations in an hour. You can tell a lot about what's happening from them. We might be in a localized squall, or we might be blowing up for a real storm."
    When they passed over the trees on the north side of Lyell Island she was surprised to see a settlement with chimneys smoking and men moving about on the ground. Luke brought the plane down gently into the sheltered bay and motored over to the floating wharf,