The yacht groaned, then stopped moving. The water around the boat turned muddy. John cut the throttle and reversed. The propeller churned but nothing happened. “We’re stuck?” Catherine asked. A contraction crossed her face.
“Not far—but yeah, we need help.” He grabbed the radio: nothing but static. His phone had one bar, which dropped when he tried to make a call. “Flare,” he muttered. He opened the emergency kit, grabbed the red canister, and pulled the cord.