But Viv is right next to me, her breath ragged, her face twisted in desperation.
We reach it at the same time. Viv dives, hand outstretched. I slide to my knees, fingers scrabbling against the back of her hand, digging my nails in, yanking her hand away from the gun long enough to reach out with my free one.
Suddenly I’m tasting something warm and salty. Another wave?
No; Viv’s black rain boot has shot up so fast and so hard that I didn’t even register it smashing into my face. My nose is throbbing—liquid is dripping, mixing with rain. Viv pulls back, triumphant, the mouse gun in her hand.
I swat at my nose, trying to stem the bleeding, but immediately flinch; it hurts to touch. Is my nose broken? I lay on the deck as Viv tries to get her footing and check the gun. The rain is pelting us, and the boat is heaving.
“It can’t wait,” Viv calls out over the wind. “I’m sorry. I have to do it now.”
Pushing aside the pain, I crawl to my knees as Viv levels the gun at me once again. She hesitates, a strange expression flickering over her face. Like she’s scared. Or confused.
“Viv—”
Before I can reason with her, before she can pull the trigger, another almighty crash sounds from the bow of the boat, larger than the first. The tender is flung upward, a huge wave slamming into us at the same time from behind. The deck disappears as I’m flung into thin air. A scream erupts from my mouth; there’s an echo of it somewhere ahead of me from Viv.
Instead of landing back on the boat in a crumpled heap, I hit the water.
I plunge through the waves, sinking several feet into the inky blackness. Bubbles issue from my mouth, and I’m grateful for them, because they’re the only way I know which direction the surface is.
The water is icy cold and fastens around my skin like a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. My limbs churn, creating more frantic bubbles as I blink in the darkness. The strange thing is that beneath the surface, away from the storm, it’s actually kind of peaceful. I’m sinking, the gravity of my fall taking me farther down, but it’s blissfully silent here.
No wind. No rain. No gunshots.
I don’t want to leave the quiet. I don’t want to go back into the real world with its storm and the truth of what I did to Sage laid bare in the air.
But without my permission, my body stops sinking and begins to bob back up toward the surface. I kick my legs, rising in a halo of bubbles, my face breaking free, gasping for air. I’m immediatelybuffeted by a wave that knocks me to the side, and I swallow a huge gulp of oxygen and dip below the surface again for a moment, trying to orient myself. When I rise up again, riding the crest of a big but thankfully gentle wave, I look around wildly.
Nothing. No boat. No Viv.
Only dark, endless ocean.
Chapter 36
The irony isn’t lost on me.
This is exactly how Sage died. Swimming for a boat that got away from her. Of course, she had no tropical storm to contend with, and I am more likely to be dashed on the rocks than drown, but still.
Perhaps this was meant to be. Maybe this is why I came to Florida. It is time for me to reap the consequences of my actions. It is time for karma to give me what I am due.
My body is lifted by the buoyant wave I’m floating on; my nose pulses with pain, warm streams of blood trickle down my face and into the sea. I wonder if Viv is okay. I’m guessing she was thrown from the boat as well, but she, unlike me, had on a life vest. She might make it.
I kind of hope she does. Despite what she’s done. No one deserves to die like this.
“This is my fault,” I whisper into the water, letting tears fall to jointheir salty siblings. “I’m so sorry.” I murmur it at first. Then I roar it, to the sky swathed in black clouds, the stars I can’t see. “I’m so sorry!”
I killed my best friend. If I die here tonight, breathing in the ocean, torn apart by sharp reef rocks, it will be my own fault. Every action I’ve made since September when I picked up Sage’s phone onPersephoneand spotted the anchor was my own responsibility.
The wave I’m riding finally flings me loose, sending me plunging back under the surface. Something rough scrapes against my shin and I jerk away before realizing it’s another big rock.
I surface again, rain sprinkling my cold lips. The rocks have to mean I’m not far from the shoreline. If I can get to Ligia, I could survive. But which direction is the island?
Trying to keep my head above the churning water, I look for any indication of light, any glimpse ofEmpress, but the visibility is bad, and I’m too low to see much of anything.
Something slimy brushes against my bare calf, and my heart jumps. We’re far from the mainland—there could be sharks out here. Or any other manner of nasty sea creature. Thrashing, I try to swim against a wave and get dunked under.
When I resurface, a face emerges from the water, floating next to me.
