A bag dropped over my head, blinding me.
“Hey!”
Hands grabbed me—rough, fast, everywhere at once. I twisted, slammed my shoulder into someone, but there were too many of them.
Cold air hit my chest, and I realized, too late, what they were doing. Fingers tore at my hoodie…my sweatpants. Fabric ripped, scraped down my legs, until the night air hit bare skin, and my stomach lurched.
“Seriously?” I snarled, fighting to break free. “What the?—”
Someone yanked at my ankles. My socks went first, then my shoes, ripped clean off as I tried to kick them away.
Rough hands caught my wrists, jerking them behind my back. Rope bit deep, pulling tight until the burn shot up my arms.
The world tilted sideways, the dock slick under my bare feet.
Before I could catch myself, a brutal shove hit between my shoulders and sent me flying.
The breath left my lungs in a grunt, and before I could even swear, I was airborne—then crashing down, the river swallowing me whole.
Cold exploded across every nerve as I hit the water, the shock punching the air straight out of my lungs.
Not water—ice. That’s what it felt like.
It slammed into me, stole everything…air, thought, sound. My lungs seized, burning, while the current dragged me under.
The bag clung to my face, slick and suffocating.
Don’t panic.
Easier said than done when your brain’s screamingup, up, up, and you don’t even know which way that is.
My arms were useless, bound tight behind me. I tried to kick, but the rope cut into my wrists, throwing off my rhythm, dragging me down faster with every frantic movement. The water roared in my ears, pressure crushing.
Think, Matty.
I twisted, rolling my shoulders, trying to feel for slack in the rope. Nothing. The knot bit deeper. I kicked again, harder this time, feeling the drag shift, the faint pull of bubbles rising somewhere above me.That way.
I followed the pain in my lungs, the instinct that screamed for air, angling my body toward where I thought the surface might be. My foot struck something solid…the riverbed.
Wrong direction.
I bent my knees and shoved off with everything I had left, forcing myself up, the bag rasping against my face, each second stretching longer than the last. The cold was eating me alive, turning muscle to stone, thought to static.
My chest convulsed as a trickle of river forced its way in, burning down my throat. I jerked my head, shaking the bag loose, rubbing it against my shoulder until the fabric finally shifted just enough to pull away from my mouth.
Light flashed behind my eyelids…and then I broke the surface.
I gasped against the soaked bag, coughing and choking, dragging in oxygen like it might vanish again.
The bag still clung to my head, heavy and waterlogged, every breath a fight. My arms were bound, but I kicked hard enough to keep myself barely afloat.
Don’t stop.
The current was pulling me downstream now, away from everything. My limbs were heavy, numb, shaking from cold and adrenaline.
Somewhere behind me, a voice called out, distant and distorted. Someone laughed.
Motherfuckers.
