Down By The Water

by Cruise, Anna

  “Lily!”

  I glanced up, startled. His expression was fierce. “You coming?”

  I didn't answer, just followed him down the path, my feet moving on their own accord. There was no time to say no, to think about what I was doing or how it would affect me. All I could think about was the missing girl, those blond curls so very much like Rosie's. A girl who was small and vulnerable and probably terrified. Just like I imagined my sister had been.

  “You check that side,” he said.

  We broke off, cutting through the thick trees and brush. I scanned the woods, looking for golden hair, a hint of clothing, anything that might indicate she was in the woods. I didn't want to think about where else she might be.

  We got to the river's edge and I cast my eyes downward, avoiding the water. The river trickled by, soft as a lullaby, moving slowly, unhurried. I sucked in a deep breath. It was the first time I'd been that close to the river since Rosie.

  “She wandered off about an hour ago,” Ty said as his eyes scoured the water and the banks. “Dave left to go into town. Went to the store with Joey, he said. Cheryl was still asleep and when she woke up, she thought Annie went with Dave. But when he got back, they realized she must've got up after he'd left and Cheryl hadn't realized it.”

  “Annie,” I said. “That's her name?”

  Ty nodded. “Yeah.” He pushed at his hair and sighed. “Fuck. She's a decent swimmer, according to her dad, but still. If she went into that river...”

  His words trailed off, but he didn't need to finish. I knew the end result all too well.

  I took a deep breath and shifted my gaze so the water came into view. The sound of it had been deceiving. The current was swift, the banks slightly swollen with rainwater surging down from the northern part of the state. I'd forgotten how silent danger could be. The river was quiet but it didn't mean it was safe.

  We walked as quickly as we could through the brush and the weeds. Ty moved higher up on the bank and I forced myself to stay at the water's edge. He wanted to cover as much terrain as we could. My sandals stuck in the soft mud along the banks and I tried to be careful, my eyes flitting from the water to the ground as I tried not to slip on rocks or get stuck in soft spots. Ty called Annie's name repeatedly but I stayed silent. I wasn't sure my voice would cooperate.

  We rounded a bend and voices floated toward us. I knew they were other people out searching. I paused, craning my neck to listen, to hear what they were saying. But all I heard was her name, an urgent echo, over and over.

  We pushed forward and I could hear Ty muttering to himself, cursing as he swatted at the bushes. Mosquitos rose out of the mud in droves and I waved my hand in front of my face like a fan, trying to keep them at bay. I slapped my hands together and felt a splatter on my palm. Blood. Probably mine. I wiped my hand on my shorts and that's when I saw it.

  Fifteen feet ahead, where the water lapped gently against the bank. Barely visible, hidden by a mass of ragweed and cattails growing along the river's edge.

  Blond hair.

  “Ty!” I yelled, my voice hoarse. I sprinted through the mud and my sandals stuck and I didn't care. I hopped the rocks, the edges cutting the soles of my now bare feet and I heard Ty crash down through the brush behind me, right on my heels.

  I shoved the cattails out of the way and there she was, rolled on her side, half of her body covered in mud. I dropped to my knees and rolled her over on her back. Her arms and cheek were covered in bright red bites and her eyes were shut. Her hair and clothes were soaked, still cold from the water, her tiny little feet the only part of her that was clean.

  But I could see her chest rising and falling.

  “She's alive,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “She's alive.”

  Ty already had his phone in his hand and was talking into it, looking around frantically, then screaming up the bank “We've got her! We've got her!”

  I picked up her hand. Her body was cold and limp, but I wasn't imagining things. There, at the base of her wrist, was a thread of a pulse, light but steady.

  “She's alive,” I whispered again.

  Ty was down next to me in the mud now, his ear over her mouth, his big hand on her small chest.

  Feet scurried above us, voices calling from every direction.

  “Roll her on her side,” Ty said. “Toward you.”

  We maneuvered her so she was on her side and he held her head in one of his hands, the other tapping hard on her back. Her body jerked, her mouth quivered and then a fountain of water shot from her lips.

  “She's alive,” I repeated.

  The little girl coughed and her eyes peeled open, crying almost immediately as the water gushed from her mouth. She tried to talk, but another coughing fit cut off her words.

  People crowded around us now and I recognized Dave navigating the steep bank, sliding as he made his way to us, nearly crashing into Ty as he fell to his knees.

  “She's okay,” Ty said. “She's okay.”

  Ty scooted back and Dave took his daughter, cradling her head like it was a crystal vase, like it might break if he dropped it. Tears streamed down his face.

  “It's okay, baby,” he said. “We've got you.”

  The little girl rolled around awkwardly, still crying, but the water had slowed to a trickle. She reached for her dad and he pulled her in, hugging her tightly as both of their bodies shook with sobs.

  “She's alive.” It had become my mantra, the only thing I was capable of saying. I watched them, unable to tear my gaze away from them, their bodies so entwined they might as well have been one.

  And then the world started to spin a little. I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to steady myself. But the forest and the river closed in on me, clouding my vision. I felt light-headed, dizzy, but I repeated the words again. The only words I could say. “She's alive.”

  FIFTEEN

  “Lily.”

  Someone was shaking me. Not viciously, but hard enough to startle me. My eyes flew open. I looked up and saw Ty hovering over me, his face inches from mine, his eyes flooded with concern.

  I tried to sit up but an arm was wrapped around me. His arm. And I wasn't sitting on the grass or on the rocky edge of the river. I was in Ty's lap, pulled tight against him.

  “What?” I started to ask, looking around, pushing a little at him.

  He held tight. “You passed out. Maybe five minutes ago?”

  I closed my eyes and the memory came flooding back. Annie. The river. Looking for her and finding her.

  Alive.

  “The little girl?” I asked, my voice frantic. “She's okay? She's—”

  Ty leaned close so his head was touching mine. “Shh,” he said. “She's fine. Fine.”

  I remembered her cold, limp body, her chest rising and falling as if every breath was an effort. The fountain of water that had poured out of her mouth. And her father, cradling her in his arms, relief and joy etched into his features.

  My dad had never gotten the chance to do that with Rosie. None of us had. Because we'd found a different scene at the river's edge ten years earlier. Her tiny, frail body skimming the surface of the river, her lifeless eyes staring skyward. She'd looked like a rag doll, bobbing along the edge of the water, like some forgotten, bedraggled toy.

  I wasn't supposed to be the one to find her. Our parents had instructed Jenna and I to stay at the camp site. Jenna had listened, holed herself up in one of the tents, a crying, blubbering mess. But I couldn't. Not when my youngest sister was missing. Not when I was the one who was supposed to have been watching her.

  “You're shivering,” Ty said. He rubbed at my arms. “You okay?”

  No, I thought. I was not okay. I hadn't been okay since that day ten years earlier, that day the life I'd always known had ended and a new life had begun. And I certainly wasn't okay now, reliving almost the exact same scene from my past.

  “I'm fine,” I lied. I looked around, The crowd of people who'd gathered were all gone. Probably back at c
ampsites, surrounding Dave and his wife, doing whatever they could to help. It had been that way for my family, too. But no one had been able to help us.

  His hazel eyes eyed me doubtfully. I didn't blame him. I wouldn't believe me, either.

  “Really,” I said. I pushed at him again and this time, his grip loosened a little. I got to my knees, the rocky sand digging into my skin. My feet were covered in mud, my sandals a distant memory. I vaguely remembered losing them when I'd run toward Annie, the glop sucking them off of my feet. “I just freaked out.”

  “Well, it was a little tense,” he said, nodding his head in agreement. His features were tight—his mouth drawn in a firm line, the muscles in his neck taut—and I realized he'd probably been just as freaked as I was about the situation. Because he'd lived through it ten years earlier, too.

  “What happened to...?” I swallowed the name that somehow found its way to the tip of my tongue. “Annie.”

  “Ambulance and police got here a few minutes before you found her,” he said. “Her dad carried her to the road and paramedics took it from there.”

  “And you're sure she's okay?”

  Ty smiled at me, a smile meant to reassure me. “Yes. She was scared and she was crying but she's gonna be fine. They're taking her in just as a precaution.”

  “Taking her where?”

  “To Walker General. About twenty miles from here.”

  I closed my eyes. The name was familiar. Too familiar. It was where Rosie had been taken. I remembered the scene all too well—the ambulance arriving to take her lifeless body to the hospital, my mother screaming and crying, tugging on the arm of the young paramedic, demanding they do something to save her. My father, his face a pale mask of grief, watching the sheet-draped gurney being loaded into the back of the ambulance, the tiny outline of my sister visible beneath it. And me, watching, dry-eyed, not quite comprehending what was happening.

  “Lily.”

  I blinked and opened my eyes. Ty was staring at me. Again.

  “You really don't seem okay,” he said.

  I stared at him, at those hazel eyes flooded with concern, and I knew he was right. I wasn't okay. I was a mess and I needed someone to comfort me, to tell me everything was going to be alright, to reassure me that the past wasn't my fault and neither was this latest near-tragedy by the river. But Ty couldn't give me those things because I wasn't willing to share them with him. It didn't mean that he couldn't comfort me, though.

  Quickly, before I could stop myself, I leaned close and crushed my lips against his. He froze for a second but then his arms tightened around me and his lips moved against mine and I attached myself to him like he was the only thing I wanted, the only thing I needed. I could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin fabric of my shirt, could feel his grip tighten as his hands moved from my back to my waist. I urged his mouth open and my tongue darted inside, tangling with his and he groaned and pulled me closer, directly on to his lap. I could feel the bulge swelling in his shorts and I shifted so I could press fully against him and he groaned again. I threaded my fingers through his hair, damp with sweat, and I pressed my breasts to his chest and he moved into me, the bulge in his shorts growing, digging into my thigh.

  “We have to stop,” he breathed against my lips.

  It was like he'd thrown a glass of ice water over me. I dropped my hands to his chest and pushed hard, launching myself away from him.

  “Whoa.” Ty shook his head, disoriented. “Wait a minute. I didn't mean—”

  “Shit.” I felt my cheeks flame red. “I'm sorry. I don't know what that was all about.”

  “Sorry?” He looked at me incredulously. “What the hell are you sorry about?”

  I didn't answer.

  “I'm not sorry,” he said.

  “You said we had to stop.” I swallowed. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. To...kiss you.”

  He smiled, a slow smile that made my heart somersault. “I meant we had to stop here. On the trail. Because I'm about ready to rip your goddamn clothes off.”

  “Oh.”

  “I'm more than happy to continue,” he said. “But some place where we're not gonna be eaten alive by bugs. And after we get you cleaned up.”

  I glanced down at my mud-splattered legs. “I know. I'm a mess.”

  He shook his head. “Not what I meant.” His eyebrows drew together in concern. “Your feet are cut up pretty bad.”

  I shifted so I could see the soles of my feet. They were a reddish-brown color and I realized they were coated with a mixture of mud and blood. Ty reached out and rubbed his thumb against my heel and I winced and pulled away.

  “Shit,” he said, lowering his head so he could inspect my cuts. “You might need stitches.”

  I shook my head and stood, brushing the sand from my knees, trying not to grimace as I put my weight on my feet. “No, no. I'm fine. Really.”

  “You're not fine. I bet the paramedics are still here. If they aren't, I can drive you over.”

  “I'm not going to the hospital.”

  I wasn't. I couldn't go there. I'd never stepped foot in it but that was where my sister's body had gone, before the funeral home in the town next to ours had come to collect her so we could bury her in the cemetery adjacent to the only church in town. A church we didn't go to, a church that didn't care about us. They'd held the service and it was somber and proper and all I could think of was that they didn't have the right to speak about her like they knew her, like they knew where she was, like they knew and accepted that this had been God's plan all along. They hadn't known shit about my sister.

  “Why are you so adamantly opposed to going?”

  I tried to calm myself down, to not let on just how much the thought of going was freaking me out. “Just not a fan of hospitals, I guess.”

  He pushed himself off the ground and into a standing position. “You spend much time in them?”

  “No.” He waited for an explanation but I didn't have one to give. “So, what now?” I asked.

  “Well, I'd really like to kiss you again.” He cocked his head and smiled at me. “And again. And again.”

  I shifted my weight, trying to find a position that didn't hurt my feet while I tried to stem the butterflies that had taken flight in my stomach. I wanted to kiss him again, too, do a million other things with him that would take my mind off the here and now. “Not exactly what I meant.”

  He sighed. “I know, I know. Alright, if you insist on not getting your feet looked at, we'll probably sit down with the sheriff for a few minutes. Answer some questions. Assuming he's still here, of course.”

  I froze. “Questions? For us?”

  Ty nodded. “You found her. Pretty sure he's just going to ask what you saw, what you did. Stuff like that. Just for the police report.”

  I felt the first stirrings of panic. “Why would there be a police report? It wasn't a crime.”

  “Doesn't matter,” he said. “Any time something like this happens, something where the cops come out, they have to fill out an incident report.” He raised his eyebrows. “You have something against cops, too?”

  I forced a smile, even though it felt like I'd just swallowed a brick. “Not at all.”

  “Jorgenson has been doing this for years,” he said. “Pretty sure he's pushing eighty but age has never stopped him. He was the sheriff when my dad was my age and I'm pretty sure he'll be here, doing his job 'til he drops dead.”

  I felt a shiver run down my spine. “He's the sheriff?”

  Ty nodded. “Yep.”

  “And he's the one that responds to emergencies around here? Not a police department?”

  “Uh, have you seen the size of Pelican Lake?” He laughed. “We don't have a police department. Or a fire station, for that matter. Jorgenson is pretty much what we have for law enforcement in this town. He gets some help every once in a while from one of the other towns. A day or two here and there. Contracted help.”

  “For what? Investigations?”
/>
  Ty shook his head, an amused smile on his face. “Again. Have you seen the size of this town? No, I don't think for investigations. I think mostly so the sheriff can have a day off every once in a while.”

  I brushed at the bottom of my shorts and more sand went flying. “And he's here now?”

  Ty craned his neck as he looked back toward the camp sites situated on the river bank. “Think so. I saw his car earlier. When the ambulance got here.”

  I nodded, remembering what he'd said earlier. “I guess we should head up there, then.”

  He glanced down at my feet. “You're not walking.”

  “Watch me.” I took a step forward and bit back the cry of pain that tried to escape from my mouth.

  Before I could stop him, his arms shot out and he scooped me up. I flailed against him, protesting. “Put me down!”

  “Shut up,” he told me. “You have no shoes. Your feet are a fucking wreck. I'm carrying you whether you want me to or not.”

  His arms felt strong around me, the heat emanating from his body a vivid reminder of the moments we'd just spent locked in each other's arms. I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around his neck and curl up against him, bury my face against his skin and rain soft kisses along his rough, stubble-covered jaw. I wanted to forget what we'd just witnessed with Rosie and forget about what—and who—might be waiting for us back at the house.

  But I didn't. I let him carry me, making my body stiff and rigid in his arms as he made his way back through the brush. Once his feet hit the smooth, dirt path, I launched out of his arms. He muttered something under his breath and I spun around to look at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You got me off the path. I can walk from here.”

  He sighed deeply.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “You said something.” I brushed at the dried specks of mud on my calves but they didn't budge. Gingerly, I tested my full weight on my right foot. It seemed to be in the best shape. My heel stung but at least I didn't feel like crying out in pain any more.