I aim the steering wheel and hit the throttle.

The barge responds even more slowly than usual. The drooping, burning coal troughs scoop water with every yard of progress, sinking lower and lower. The flames will all be engulfed soon.

And what a fire it is. The coal burns bright and hot, accelerated by the lighter fluid. Even way up here, in the protective shelter of the cabin, I feel like I’m inside a convection oven.

The barge gets closer and closer. The tower shimmers, reflecting light from the fire in prismatic shards. Waves lap against its sheer walls. Zebra mussels have already claimed territory, clumping against the whiteness right at the waterline.

I hit the throttle again, even though this boat is already going as fast as it ever will. It’s not enough.

The impact surprises me, shivers up my legs and spine, knocking my hip against the piloting console. I peer out the window to see if we did any damage, but I just can’t tell—the waves are too frothy, the fire so hot it makes a wavering mirage of the air around it.

Tanq scoops her Jet Ski around toward the tower, driving parallel. Trey reaches out with his gun and shoots at it. I have no idea if any of his shots penetrate.

But then they’re flying back toward me and I hear Trey’s voice over the waves. “Bail! Get off now!”

I don’t second-guess. I grab Emmaline and rush out of the cabin, down to the first deck, toward Wyatt. “Time to go, Wyatt,” I holler, glad to see he’s already on his feet.

I cast one longing glance toward the rowboat. But based on the urgency of Trey’s voice, I don’t have time for that. “We have to bail,” I say. “Stay close. If you have trouble breathing, I’ll do all the swimming for us, okay?”

He nods.

I have Emmaline in her doggy life vest in one arm. With my other hand, I grab Wyatt’s hand. “On three,” I say. “One, two—”

The world erupts.

A blast of something hits my back, and the three of us are flung into the lake. I lose my grip on Wyatt’s hand, and my arm is suddenly empty of Emmaline as water closes over my head.

I flail for the surface, but blasts continue to hit over and over, swirling me around until I can’t tell up from down. My lungs are on fire; I need air more than anything, for I had no time to take a breath. Then I remember to trust the life vest, and I stop struggling.

The vest lifts me, bobs me up to break the surface, and I gasp for air.

“Emmaline!” I scream. “Wyatt?”

Debris rains down around my head; something lands on my ear, searing my skin, and I duck my head under the water instinctively.