“Tate, find out where we are now! Raea, sit down,” Trysten barks, his usual calm cracking under the pressure as he goes through the alarms with a panic-stricken face. Another violent shake rattles the transport, sending me stumbling once more.
“Where are we, Tate?” I shriek, watching the screen with dread as it continues to glitch and sputter, unsure of where to place our location. Meanwhile, every sensor is going crazy, lighting up and blaring at us like I don’t already know something is really, really wrong.
“The computers are going haywire. It’s throwing our location all over the place. I don’t know,” he responds, the anxious tremor in his voice echoing my own fear.
When the jump ends, the sky shifts from black to a vivid blue, and I can hardly believe my eyes. The sky transforms again, morphing into an expansive body of water charging toward us with terrifying speed.
“Brace for impact, now!”
twenty-six
. . .
The soundof the transport hitting the water is like a bomb; the impact is so loud that I feel it reverberate through every part of me, silencing everything for a moment, aside from a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I’m still recovering from the blow, too stunned to care that my ears are ringing or that I seriously hurt myself by not being strapped into the harness. Honestly, I’m lucky to be alive. I should have crashed into the glass.
Instead, my body is thrown up against the console despite my holding onto the harness I grabbed at the last minute. Thankfully, my corset took the brunt of it. I’ve never been more thankful for the ridiculous contraption I’ve been required to wear for the past eleven years. The Nakata plates potentially saved my life. I’ll probably have a bruise, which is nothing compared to what it could have been.
When I glance beside me, I find Trysten unconscious, his face bleeding where he hit the panel, rivulets of crimson blood draining down the side of his face and covering the cracked glass where his head lies. In front of me, I notice the water level rising over the glass window, alerting me to the fact that our transport is sinking quickly. The water rises every second, revealing clear blue water and glowing white moon jellies swimming toward us. In moments, they’vesurrounded the glass, their bodies brushing up against it and molding to it, interested in who and what we are.
With another breath, I calm myself, realizing I need to take control. We’ll die in here if I don’t. The ringing in my ears subsides enough for me to gain clarity. “We need to get out now,” I yell over the sound of rushing water that begins seeping through the cabin’s cracks.
Anxiety and fear push in around me, threatening to drown me, but I can’t let it win.I will not be weak.I take a moment to look around, take everything in, and then begin giving orders. We have minutes at best before this transport is sucked down to the bottom of whatever body of water we landed in. I only hope that someone will notice and send emergency vehicles to find us.
“Ciara, grab the bags,” I keep my voice calm and clear. “Tate, I need your help with Trysten. He’s stuck.” I yank on his harness, but it doesn’t budge. On the other side of Trysten, Tate pulls a blade from his waist and begins cutting through the thick fabric. On the edge of my control, panic threatens to take hold again, but I fight against it. Panic will not help us get out of this situation.
I gasp when chilly water fills the space around my thighs, my flight uniform doing little to ward off the cold. Finally, the harness snaps free, and Trysten sags out of his seat. His head wound does nothing to ease the grip on my chest.
“Can you lift him?” I ask. Tate just nods, lifting Trysten with incredible strength over his shoulders like a sack of grain. I glance back at the ramp and nearly groan. The angle at which we are sinking means we will have to climb.
“C’mon,” Ciara cries. “Let’s go.”
Using the cabinetry, I pull myself up the steep path, reaching into one of them for the med pack, and reach with my free hand to grab Ciara’s outstretched hand. Once I’m pulled to the edge and suspended above the water, we both turn, lying flat to reach for Tate, where he’s propped himself and Trysten against the third row of seats.
Both of us cry out, using what strength we have to pull both men up. It should be impossible, but I know that the adrenaline coursing through me has made it possible. When Tate gets to the ledge, wehelp him stand as the three of us look out over the back of the transport.
“We have to jump,” I say with a shaky voice.
Out the back ramp, there’s about a twelve-foot drop, the ship almost vertical in the water now, and my breath catches. We’ll need to clear the transport before we get sucked under. I don’t hesitate, knowing that I’ll get trapped in all the what-ifs if I think too long. “On three.” Both of them nod just as I begin to count. On three, we all jump, Tate still holding Trysten around his shoulders.
I hold my breath just as my feet hit the surface, and a moment later, I plunge into the icy water. The water is so cold it steals my breath instantly and sends searing pain through my body. I break the surface and inhale, my body already numb in places. My limbs can barely function, but I know I need to get everyone to shore as quickly as possible. Staying out here is deadly. As I glance around, I don’t spot Tate or Trysten.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
With another deep inhale, I dive back down, searching the clear water, thankful I can see, and find Tate struggling to reach the surface. It takes two strokes to reach them before I pull on Trysten as Tate pushes. Once we surface, I flip Trysten on his back and wait, praying he’s still alive. Another heartbeat passes before he inhales, thank gods, but he’s still unconscious. I turn in a panic and see Ciara swimming toward me with all the bags dragging behind her, their weight slowing her down.
Glancing around, I notice a shoreline not too far from our current position. “C’mon, it’s like a two-minute swim,” I sputter, fighting back against the cold. “Tate, switch with Ciara and get a break. Ciara, come help me pull Trysten.” I inhale sharply. “We have to swim, don’t stop.”
Ciara nods, her teeth chattering and her lips already blue as she switches places with Tate.
My vision starts to fade at the edges, darkness threatening to pull me under. I fight against the encroaching weight of sleep with everyounce of willpower I can muster. “Kee-eep go-ing,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rhythmic lapping of the water.
I’m completely numb, the cold water no longer biting into me. In some ways, it’s a blessing, offering me a reprieve, but in other ways, I know it’s hazardous. I need to get out of this water before my body shuts down.
As our feet finally make contact with the soft sand of the shore, a whimper of relief escapes my lips. Ciara and I cling to the last remnants of our dwindling energy, working together to drag Trysten’s limp form from the water. Behind us, Tate struggles, his muscles straining as he hauls all four bags to the beach. The air wraps around us like a comforting blanket, surprisingly warm against our frozen skin.
“Ci-ar-a,” I chatter, “Geeet h-hi-m un-d-resss-d.”
Tate stumbles over, leaving the bags to help her, both of them fighting against shock and hypothermia.
