by Tracey Ward
I don’t breathe the entire way. I’m watching for that iconic, telltale triangle to appear on the top of the water. I’m waiting for Lawson’s strength to disappear below the surface. I’m waiting for the agonizing crush of mouth and teeth and nature to take hold of both the board and me, and drag us under again.
It can’t take us more than a two minutes to reach the shore but it’s the longest two minutes of my life. Lawson is relentless, his body unfailing as it wills us out of the water. Once he can stand he’s running with me, his powerful legs plowing through the water. Thrashing loudly as people shout and he hollers back. Someone is calling 911. Someone else is getting a blanket. Lawson is calling for a knife.
The surfboard rolls and rocks in the water as he pushes me in. A wave crests and crashes over us. It jostles me. It nearly knocks me off the board but he’s there, Lawson is there, his hands on me with hard certainty that keeps me afloat and pulls me back up onto the board. I grab hold of one of his hands with mine as my vision swims dangerously. The ocean, the sky, the sand, the sun, the stars – they swirl together in a sickening dance until I don’t know up from down anymore. All I know is the hot pain in my leg and the gentle warmth of Lawson’s hand.
“Stay with me, Rach,” he says sternly. “Eyes on me, you hear me? Stay with me.”
We’ve reached the beach. I’m on my back on the board, wet sand clinging to my face along with my blond hair. He brushes it aside so I can see him. So I can find him and his eyes, and I latch onto them as the world spins faster and faster.
“Is she alive?” Katy asks tremulously.
“Stay with me,” Lawson repeats calmly, ignoring Katy. “Rachel.”
“Stay with me,” I whisper, my eyes full of his face.
He grins, relieved. “That’s right. I need you to stay with me. Help is coming. They’ll get you out of here.”
I hold his hand tightly, afraid to let go. Afraid the tide will take me and I’ll slip back into the water. Back into the darkness. If he leaves me I’ll die. I can feel it.
I look at him in open terror, my heart in my throat. “Stay,” I plead.
His grin fades as he nods seriously. “Okay. I’ll stay with you. I promise.”
I nod, feeling relieved.
Then sick.
I turn my head and vomit on the golden sand. It’s all water. All ocean and fear that mingles in the foam of the surf and fades out into the ocean.
It fades to black.
Chapter Two
“Rachel? Can you hear me?”
A light flashes across my eyes. It burns but then it’s gone and there’s nothing. Just the dark and the heavy feel of a weight on top of me. Pinning me down. I move to sit up but I can’t. I’m under water again. I’m back in the dark in the ocean. I can’t move my arms or my legs, I can barely lift my head, and I’m opening my mouth to scream when I feel the soft press of a warm palm against mine.
I can’t see him, I can’t hear him, but I know he’s here. He promised me he would be.
“She’s stable. Let’s lift her. On three. One... two… three!”
I’m rising through the air. There’s something solid underneath me and I think it’s Lawson’s board. I roll from side to side the way I did in the surf, but I’m steady. I’m strapped down tight, the rough scratch of a blanket painful on my burned skin. Sound changes, becoming echoed and hollow as I’m lifted high and pushed across the ground with a protesting screech.
His hand leaves mine and I grab for it, searching blindly. I open my eyes and lift my head, mumbling words that don’t even make sense to me. It’s dark inside, but to my right I can see instruments glowing. Panels and gauges. Controls. When the shadow beside them kicks on a switch the angry whir of an engine starts to vibrate everything around me. Someone holds the blanket down hard over my body as sand flies everywhere, making me close my eyes again.
“You can’t!” a man is shouting over the roar of the chopper blades. “There’s no room for you! We’re taking her to Cottage Hospital! Meet her there!”
A needle goes in my arm. A mask descends on my face, oxygen filtering in and making it easier to breathe, but inside I’m panicking.
“Cut the bullshit, Chris!” Lawson shouts. “You know you can carry one more.”
“Not you.”
“I’m not looking for a joy ride!”
“It doesn’t matter, man. You can’t go with her.”
“I promised her.”
“You promise a lot of girls a lot of things.”
“Oh, don’t be a dick! This is serious.”
“So was my sister. Now get the hell out of my way so we can take off! You’re hurting her more than helping her right now!”
I hear Lawson curse angrily, but he doesn’t fight the guy. I see it when Chris gets on board the helicopter, his shadow blending in with the rest of the darkness around me, and I wish I didn’t have this mask on my face. I’d ask him to please let Lawson on board. I’d tell him I’m scared. I’d let him know what a bureaucratic asshole he’s being.
“Wheels up!” the pilot shouts.
We rise into the air, leaving Lawson behind. Leaving Katy and the beach and the water. My body burns as I shiver under the blanket in a cold sweat and I wonder how bad it is. I can’t feel my leg. It doesn’t even hurt, but I know it should. It did before. So why doesn’t it now? Is it because I’m in shock?
Or is it because it’s at the bottom of the ocean?
End of Sample.
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About the Author
I was born in Eugene, Oregon and studied English Literature at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) It was there that I discovered why Latin is a dead language and that being an English teacher was not actually what I wanted to do with my life.
My husband and my son are my world.
Visit my website for more information on upcoming releases, Tracey Ward
