I can tell he’s facing us, his attention locked on the raft we’re propelling.
I shrink back to my spot on the right edge of the bumper, yanking the raft away from him as hard as I can—but it’s a lose-lose battle at this point. The farther we get from that shoreline, the harder it will be to swim back, without being dragged over the falls.
“Don’t look at him,” I say, forcing my eyes back to the raft, to the rope in my hands. “Hang on a little longer,” I add, not bothering to keep my voice quiet. If anything, our voices will make the illusion of the ghost ship stronger.
Roiling, foaming whitewater springs into my field of vision now, maybe fifteen yards in front of us. My numb legs tingle with the urge to abandon the raft, to swim for shore.
“Kaia,” Allie says, louder now, her voice thick with panic. “We’re going to go over. Shit, shit, shit!”
“No, wait a little longer,”Parker says firmly, but this time my panic doesn’t respond to his voice.
The terror is all-consuming.
We’re trapped between a killer and a waterfall.
And Allie and I are the only hope for the other women to somehow make it to safety before Leo realizes we’ve tricked him a second time. I don’t even want to imagine how furious that realization would make him—or how cruel.
The river picks up more speed, drawing us steadily toward the drop-off. The raft surges up, then down, hitting a faster current, forcing the raft sideways. As we tug back on the bumper, the dummies sway, their life jackets muddy orange in the failing light.
“Kaia,” Allie gasps over the din of the falls. “I can’t—my arms—”
“Youcan,” I say fiercely, even though my own arms feel like they’re being torn from their sockets.
She doesn’t answer, but I hear her breathing—quick, terrified, desperate—and feel her legs keep on kicking beside mine. Can Leo see our splashing now? Does he think it’s from the paddles?
I pull myself up with the rope just long enough to risk another glance up at the dark figure on the rocky ledge.
He still hasn’t moved.
Is it really possible he’s still buying this charade? Does he really think we’re all rowing ourselves toward oblivion for his entertainment?
“Please, please help,” I beg, not sure whether I’m pleading with Parker or praying.
“We’re going to go over the falls,” Allie screams, and I try with everything in me to believe that it’s for show, for Leo to hear. A final ploy to make him think all of us are in this raft, floating toward our doom.
We’re nearly level with the lookout point now.
I no longer have to lift myself up to get a clear view of the hulking shadow leaning over the edge. He hunches perfectly still at the very lip of the rocky outcropping, a dark cutout against the darkening sky. My heart slams against my ribs as his head slowly swivels and locks on the raft like a laser. Even from this distance, in the nearly dead light, I can see the deliberateness of the movement. Like he has all the time in the world.
Maybe he does.
But we don’t.
38
I can’t see Leo’s face, can’t read his expression, but I can feel his attention locked on the raft—and the six shapes perched inside.
Has he spotted me? Has he spotted Allie. Is his jaw tightening at this very moment, as he realizes he’s been fooled? If he knew where to look, he could see the tops of our heads behind the rear bumper, barely breaking the surface like crocodiles.
Keep looking at the raft. Don’t look in the water.Please, please, please.
I don’t dare let my eyes linger on him. There’s no point. All that matters in the next three seconds is the fact that our raft is racing forward, only ten yards from the falls’ edge now—and the fact that the undertow is sucking us swiftly toward the whitecaps’ frothing fingers.
We’ve reached the final point of no return. The exact spot Macy said we absolutelycannotgo past.
Which means that maybe Leo isactuallyabout to watch us fall to our death, dashed to pieces on the rocks below, along with the dummies. If we don’t make a move right fucking now, we’re goners.
“Shit!” Allie chokes out. She flashes me a terrified look, then tips her head left with a slosh. And then she’sgone, ducking beneath the dark surface of the water before I can reply or react.
