#Book 3 - Page 47 (1/2)

Something moved beneath my head. It came close to my submerged ear. Someone whispered into it.

The voice was distorted and m.u.f.fled underwater. But it was unmistakable.

“Mother!” it cried out, cold, child lips brus.h.i.+ng my earlobe.

I opened my mouth to scream again but only found water. I took it in instead of air and let the liquid saturate the life out of me.

“Mother” it said again and again until we were floating together and the world closed its eyes.

I felt my body losing consciousness. I had been captured just like Mary had, on my 23rd birthday, and set off to sea with the remains of Madeleine. I was going to drown with her. I was going to drown. Drown.

Drown.

Nothing.

A flash of celestial light.

A brightness coming from inside my head.

Nerves misfiring.

Water.

Peace.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.”

I was cold. The light began to retreat and everything was black again. Multicolored planets twirled in my head.

“Please, baby. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”

A rush of air entered my lungs. It met at the bottom, creating a whirlpool in my chest. The water was rising.

It rushed out of me in one monstrous convulsion. I turned over and let the water flow out of my lungs and stomach and onto the s.p.a.ce beside me. I gasped wildly for air. My eyes flew open to see black sky and waving tree tops.

I felt a hand at my face, gently resting on my cheek. After my lungs were clear enough and I felt icy air replacing them, I gingerly moved my head up and looked.

Dex was kneeling over me, soaking wet from head to toe, water dripping off of his hair. He was holding one of my hands very tightly, the other hand on my face. He was smiling painfully through tears, or maybe it was just salt water.

He stroked my head and brought my hand up to his chest, holding it there tightly.

“I thought I lost you,” he croaked. “I thought I lost you.”

It all came rus.h.i.+ng back to me, the feelings of guilt flooding my head.

“I’m sorry,” I said weakly. The words pushed me into a coughing fit.

“No,” he said, cradling the back of my head with his hand and propping me up, helping me get it all out. “Don’t say anything. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I should have believed you.”

I slowly eased myself up to a sitting position. We were on the beach, just a few feet from the waves that overturned the stones with each pa.s.sing. We were both soaking wet. I knew the intense cold would set in at any minute but for now I was numb. It was pitch black outside, nighttime already.

“What happened?” I managed to say. I remembered John coming at me with the rope, the lepers and that was it.

He shook his head. “I was at the beach. Waiting for you. I was worried sick. I started heading back into the woods to get you when I heard this ripping sound. I saw…I saw a small woman. I thought she was a child at first. She had the hunting knife. She cut open the Zodiac.”

“Mary,” I whispered.

“Yes. It was her, all right. I knew it. And then suddenly…it all made sense. And I knew you were right. I didn’t say anything to her, I didn’t need to. The damage was done. I ran off into the woods to find you. I guess I tripped up on a log and knocked myself out. When I came to it was dark. I went to the campsite and saw…I saw the lepers. They were standing right here. Pus.h.i.+ng the coffin out to sea. I don’t know how, but I knew you were in it.”

“What did you do?” Feeling was coming back into my hands and feet like pins and needles. Or maybe that was the fear.

“I just…ignored them. I ran out past them and into the water to get you. I almost couldn’t; the lid was too strong and the water too deep. But something gave. And I saw you in there, blue, floating. And I…I really thought you were dead.”

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“But I’m not dead. Dex, you saved my life,” I wished I was strong enough to properly express how I was feeling. Weak words were not enough. “After everything I said to you–”

He put his finger to my lips and pressed it gently. His eyes searched mine earnestly. “No. You had every right. The thought of losing you…I’ve been a terrible partner and a terrible friend.”

Now I wanted to shut him up. “You haven’t been. I don’t blame you for not believing me. Most people don’t.”