I didn’t care.
I had no choice.
Daniel was most likely dead.
Hudson was dying.
And Cynthia lay bleeding in the basement.
I’d try to make it to the mainland for them. To save them.
However, with every wave that crashed over the narrow road and threatened to pull me into the sea, I started to wonder.
Maybe I wasn’t doing this for Hudson or Cynthia.
Maybe I was going out there to join Daniel.
How could I possibly make it across a mile of flooded road without being swallowed? And even if I did get across, what kind of help would I find? The emergency lines had already played a recording earlier, saying they were overwhelmed. It could be hours, maybe longer—and no one would risk that road until the storm eased.
Then a wave hit harder than the rest.
It didn’t just shove me to the edge.
It threw me.
My body slammed onto the jagged rocks at the side of the road. Sharp pain tore across my arms and legs.
The saltwater burned every scratch and every raw cut that was already bleeding from earlier. My back throbbed. The wound on my head screamed.
I clawed at the rock, my nails splitting against the rough stone as I held on.
I wouldn’t let the sea take me without a fight.
I’d promised the dogs that I’d get help for their dad.
And Cynthia—she needed help too.
I didn’t want to die a murderer.
So I told Daniel that he’d have to wait, and I forced myself to move. I gripped the rock harder. Pushed upward with everything I had. When the sea pulled back, I scrambled up the edge and made it back onto the road.
As I turned, gasping, I saw it.
The lights were back on at the Breakers. The electricity was back.
But the second I took a step back, another wave surged.
This one was a monster.
It rose like a wall beside me and crashed down with a roar.
The ocean grabbed me, lifted me off my feet, and hurled me into the dark.
The force spun me, pulled me under.
Every attempt to swim felt useless. It was like I was trying to fight a rip current with broken limbs.
Lightning flashed above me, casting the Breakers in stark white light.
