Radclyffe - Wild Shores

Austin nodded, rewarded by the softening in Gem’s eyes. “All right, then we’ll work.”

“Let me see your maps,” Gem said, slowly pulling her hand away.

Austin turned her laptop toward Gem and pulled up the aerials of the coastline. “We don’t have a lot of time, so I want to optimize our positioning of the booms.” She pointed a finger. “These show the projected direction of currents and the way the oil is likely to flow if it escapes the burn. Where are the key areas we need to blockade?”

Gem pointed to several places on the map. “These are estuaries leading into the sanctuary. They feed much of the salt marsh, which is critical as both habitat and feeding ground. Contamination here is likely to destroy much of the essential vegetation and trap a great many of the birds.”

“Where will you stage the recovery operations, if necessary?”

“Initially at the sanctuary, until we can set up mobile decontamination stations.”

“How many people?”

Gem winced. “As many as we can muster. It takes about an hour per bird to wash the oil clear, get them rehydrated and fed, prior to relocation.”

“That’s a lot of man-hours.”

“We lose a lot because we just can’t get to them in time.”

Austin would do anything to drive the clouds from Gem’s eyes. “We’ll seed the water between the booms and the shoreline with emulsifiers and chemical solvents if anything gets past the blockades. With the storm surge, though, our best hope is for the oil never to get this far.”

“So we’re back to the burn again,” Gem said.

Austin nodded. “Best case. I need to get back out to the rig.”

Gem’s stomach tightened. “I’m going to be busy organizing the ground teams, but you’ll…keep in touch?”

“Of course.”

Gem struggled with the line between personal and professional, a line she’d crossed unwittingly once. She knew better now, crossing it willingly as she reached for Austin’s hand. “You’ll be careful, won’t you.”

Austin closed her fingers around Gem’s, the link easing the pain in her chest. “I will. You too.”

“I’m not the one sitting on top of the powder keg.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Gem found Emily where she expected her to be, kneeling in the sand on the beach, a baseball cap pulled low over her brow, her red hair flying in the wind, gently applying tiny tracking sensors with acrylic compound to the shells of the baby turtles breaking free of their eggs. The rain held off, but the sky was an angry blanket of gray. She imagined she could feel the storm at her back, thought of the oil rig bobbing on the vast sea, isolated and vulnerable, and how small and defenseless its human inhabitants. Pushing worries about Austin to the back of her mind did nothing to quell the twist of anxiety that coiled in her middle. Gritting her teeth, she knelt in the sand next to Emily. “What can I do?”

“Keep an eye out for stragglers and try to direct them toward the water.” Emily’s face was fierce, the muscles along her jaw tight and strained. “We’re going to lose a lot of them if I can’t get the unhatched eggs out in time.”

“Can you incubate them in the center?”

“For a while, if we hold power and the whole damn place doesn’t blow away.” She pushed a strand of damp hair away from her cheek. “Damn it, why now?”

Gem gently redirected a half-dollar sized turtle down the slope toward the water and watched it make its staggering way into the frothy sea. Under ordinary circumstances, most would die before they ever reached the sanctuary of the water. Even if they did find their way to the safety of the sea with a little help from her and Emily, the majority would succumb to larger predators before they ever reached adulthood. Still, more would have a chance to survive with their help, and she didn’t feel the least bit guilty thwarting the natural cycle of things, considering how much humans had done to destroy the habitat of these creatures. She’d never be able to even the score.

“There are three more clutches in this area alone,” Emily said. “Who knows what might be elsewhere along the coast, and—”

“We can’t get to them all,” Gem said gently. “But we can look after the ones here.”

Emily blew out a breath and sat back on her heels, glancing out to sea. “I’ve never been through one up close. Have you?”

“No. Some pretty heavy tropical storms, and lots of the aftermath.” Gem watched a golf-ball-sized eggshell fracture and a miniscule head pop out. “At least we’ve got some time to prepare. Where’s the rest of your help?”

“I sent them to help Joe board up the cabin windows and lock down the center.” Emily balanced a solar-powered tracker on her fingertip and applied the glue, her attention on the emerging hatchling. “Where do you figure we’ll ride this out?”

“Once we know for sure it’s coming, and when, we’ll set up a command center in the village, on high ground. I called the town supervisor right before I came out, and he’s promised us a couple of rooms at town hall. Hopefully, we won’t need them for long.”

“I guess we can always relocate to the FEMA trailers.”

Gem grimaced. “Not my first choice. I want to get back into the center as soon as we can.”

“I’m with you.” As Emily talked, she adroitly caught, tagged, and released the turtle and sent it on its way. Answering some innate imperative, a stream of the hatchlings straggled down the beach toward the surf. An occasional gull swooped low, hoping for an easy catch, but a shout and a wave of the arm from Emily or Gem was enough to dissuade them. Once the hatchlings reached the water and headed out to the protection of the plankton patches, they were on their own.

“I’ll grab a couple more hands for you,” Gem said, “so you can get the other clutches extracted and stored.”

“Thanks.”

“You sure you want to stay through the storm?”

“Jeremy’s not too happy about it, but he’ll cope.” Emily grinned. “The kids are really annoyed they’re missing all the fun. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Gem squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks.”

The thump-thump-thump of a helicopter caught her attention and she glanced up to watch it turn course out over the ocean. She wondered if Austin was aboard. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the minute we met. A dark thrill raced through her, remembering the heavy-lidded languor in Austin’s eyes when they’d lain together naked, caressing, enticing, seducing. No, she hadn’t stopped thinking about her either, even when she’d tried. And now every thought was undercut with fear.

“I guess the GOP people have headed back out,” Emily said with her uncanny ability to read Gem’s mind.

“Yes.”

“Talk about a perfect storm.”

“Ironic term for it,” Gem muttered.

“How is it, working with Austin?” Emily rose and brushed sand from the knees of her cargo pants. “Here, carry this.”

Gem grabbed the backpack filled with equipment and followed Emily down the beach. “It’s fine. We’ve both got jobs to do, and we agreed to keep things professional.”

“Aha, professional. Very mature.” Emily cut her a glance and carefully stepped over the yellow tape surrounding another square of beach. “Really, Gem? From the looks of things, the two of you were on fire. Now you’re going to be cool and professional?”

“Damn it, what choice do I have.” Gem hunkered down with her back to the rising wind. “It’s not like we’d been dating or anything, more like—hell, I don’t know what we’ve been doing.”

“Well, if it was me, I’d kick her ass.”

Gem grinned.

“Hand me that spade,” Emily said, knowing with some sixth sense exactly where the clutch was located. Gem played first assistant as Emily worked.