I dig my heels into the dirt.
“Are you out of your ever-loving mind? I’m not getting anywhere near that… thatthing.”
Hayes—the absolute bastard—has the nerve to laugh.
“Don’t be dramatic. Charon’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” I stare at him. “He has no face, Hayes. NO. FACE.”
I slap both hands over my eyes like that’ll somehow make this all go away. A thin, humiliating whimper slips out before I can stop it.
I always thought I was brave and strong. The kind of person who stays calm under pressure. Who beats up punching bags and sparring partners for exercise. Who leans into the dark. Who laughs while reading horror books and can make it through any scary movie, no matter how bloody or grotesque. And yet, here I am, turning into a puddle of pure panic when faced with real-life terror.
I admit it’s a little pathetic. Under normal circumstances, I’d be mortified. Me, a so-called badass who can’t handle a skeleton with a boat.
But not right now. In this very moment, my pride doesn’t even make the top ten list of things I’m concerned about.
“I know this is a lot,” Hayes says, crouching beside me. “Just hold on a little longer. I’ll explain everything soon. I promise.”
Gently, he pulls my hands away from my face, his forehead brushing against mine. Steady and grounding. A quiet anchor in the middle of the chaos.
“Do I really have to?”
I can’t stop my hands from trembling, my brain a muddled blend of fear and disbelief.
“I’m sorry, Alligator.”
“But I don’t know where it’s going.” I shake my head frantically, using the first excuse that comes to mind, no matter how lame. “And I have class tomorrow. I can’t just skip it.” I’m rambling now, but unable to stop. “What about my academic record? What about NYU?”
Hayes stares at me like I’ve lost it. And honestly? I probably have.
“Your academic record?” he repeats, flatly. “Are you serious?”
“If I miss too many lectures, my GPA tanks, and NYU goes up in smoke. And my YouTube is finally gaining traction.” My voice cracks. “I have momentum, Hayes.”
I know I’m not making any sense. I just fell through a literal hole in the earth, and I’m clinging to college credits and my social media stats. But it’s like if I just keep talking about something normal, something rational, maybe I’ll stay tethered to the world I understand.
Hayes exhales, sadness softening the edges of his face. “You’re not going back, Al.”
My breath stills.
“What?”
“Not right now, at least,” he says. “Maybe not ever.”
“Notever?”
A tidal wave of emotion crashes over me as I picture my mother, pacing the house, checking her phone obsessively, unraveling with worry. She would be inconsolable if I just… disappeared. She would never stop looking for me. Never stop believing I was out there somewhere.
“Enough talking. We have to move—now.” Hayes grabs my hand, urgency snapping tight in his grip. “If we don’t get on that ferry soon, we’re in serious trouble.”
The fight drains out of me, and I let him pull me forward like a broken marionette, my limbs heavy and reluctant. Because what’s the point? I don’t know anything anymore. Don’t know what’s happening. Don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.
As we near the shoreline, bones crack and splinter beneath my shoes like brittle twigs. My lip curls with disgust. I’ve always liked bones when they’re cute little graphics on my clothes or glittering enamel pins. But stepping on them? Crushing skulls underfoot like seashells? That’s something else entirely.
Finally, we reach the dock. Black, brackish water lashes against the ferry’s hull, spraying a foul mist into the air. I gag and swipe it from my cheeks, gratefulnone of it got in my eyes, or worse, my mouth. It smells like sulfur and rot, like a thousand years of death trying to claw its way free.
God only knows what’s actually inside it.
