Part 87 (2/2)

froth. She wanted it. Needed it. Just one ride-one success completely

and totally her own.

She caught it. Her heart slammed into her throat as she skimmed along

the pipe. She could see the beach rus.h.i.+ng toward her, the glint of the

binocular lens. The drum of water was like music in her head, in her

heart. For an instant she tasted it. Freedom.

The tower of water closed in behind her, shoving her off the board,

tossing it and her up. One moment she was in the sun, the next she was

tumbling in the wall of water. It slammed her, knocking away her

breath, sending her wheeling, arms and legs flailing like rubber.

Lungs burning, she struggled to break the surface. She could see it

s.h.i.+mmering above her, but the power of the water dragged her deeper,

viciously pitching her. She clawed at the water, then was plunged down,

gyrating helplessly until the surface was below her and just as out of

reach.

As her strength failed she wondered giddily if she should pray. The Act

of Contrition floated dreamily through her brain.

Oh my G.o.d, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee.

As she was sucked back, sucked down, the prayer faded and music seemed

to fill her head.

Come together. Right now. Over me.

Panic stabbed through her. It was dark. Dark, and the monsters were

back. Her efforts to reach the surface were only wild flailings now.

She opened her mouth to scream and gagged.

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