Then, I feel fingers and a hand clamps around my wrist, brutal and unrelenting, tugging me upward from the depths.
I thrash on instinct, trying to fight free, my fear taking over. They’re pulling me, but my body doesn’t want to listen.
We struggle against each other in the current, tugging and twisting in the void of stormy waves.
I can’t see a thing—only blurred shadows and the shimmer of what might be light from the ship from far above.
My eyes sting, my throat tightens, and every second stretches, cruel and infinite.
Time is running out. And the darkness is winning.
Again.
One hard push to my chest and water explodes from my nose and the gaps in my stitched mouth like a broken fountain.
My lungs dragging in air as my eyes spring open. I’m rolled onto my side, wheezing so hard it feels like my ribs might crack, more seawater spilling out in bursts.
“Thank God you’re alive,” Mattie’s voice comes from beside me, heavy with relief, her hand rubbing roughly between my shoulder blades. “I thought I lost you.”
When the choking finally stops, I realize there’s sand plastered over my skin—gritty, damp and sticking to every inch of me. The rain trickles over us, washing it away in thin, muddy trails.
“I didn’t know your mouth was…” she points to her own, an uneasy look in her eyes.
My arms tremble as I push myself upright, every muscle objecting.
“I’m not sure where we are,” she says, like she’s answering a question I would have asked, her gaze flicking toward thedark stretch of sea. “It looks like we’re on some kind of strange island.”
I lift my head higher, blinking through the haze of rain and tears until my gaze catches on a shape in the far distance—the ship.
The same one we fell from is now a shadowy silhouette against the night sky, leaving us behind.
I notice a few women are sitting on the sand close by, knees pulled tight to their chests, faces buried in their hands.
But far out in the sea, I spot bodies still wrapped in plastic, floating on the waves.
On the shore, others are already washed up, the tide dragging them in and out like they can’t even settle on death.
My stomach coils tight as I get up on shaky legs, then start running before I can even think properly.
The wet sand gives under me, dragging at my feet, but I keep going anyway, scanning and searching, until I see a body smaller than the rest. Much smaller.
My pulse spikes instantly, turning sharp and uneven as I sprint harder. I skid to a stop beside it, dropping to my knees.
My hands are on the plastic in a second, and I start tearing at it frantically, fingers slipping, struggling against the wet layers as I pull them back, one after another. Like speed alone can undo what I already know is coming.
No, no, no.
The layers cling stubbornly, like it doesn’t want to give her up, but red hair starts to show through first, soaked and tangled.
Then her face comes into focus more and more, until there’s nothing left between us except that final layer concealing her features.
I freeze as soon as I catch her green eyes, wide open and staring up at the sky, glazed over with death.
My hands stop moving, but I don’t let go. I can’t.
Swallowing hard, more tears escape, and I continue to gently peel away the last piece of plastic, revealing her ghostly face beneath it.
Her skin is pale, almost waxen in the cold light, her lips a bright, unnatural blue.
