#Book 3 - Page 48 (1/2)

Mary raised the knife again.

I raised the gun, aimed it at Mary and pulled the trigger.

The gun exploded in my hands, the flare shooting out in a storm of red light, smoke, sparks and the most heart–stopping bang that shook my ear ca.n.a.ls loose.

The flare shot straight below the rope, missing it only by a foot, and hit Mary square in the stomach. She erupted in a sizzling firework of guts and fire and fell backward off the cliff, landing on the rocks below.

I didn’t have much time to think about what I just did. Dex and I exchanged a quick look. He was as surprised as I was.

“You are a good shot,” he said. Then noticing the ghouls were only a few feet away, he grabbed my arm and we made a made a mad dash up the cliff for the tree.

Once at the crest, I got up and inspected the rope. I touched it gingerly. It didn’t look good. It would probably snap under our weight. But it was our only way to live.

The lepers were now coming up beside the tree, their scabby arms reaching over the sides of the rocks and swiping at our ankles. Dex quickly whipped off his backpack and flung it over the rope, sliding it down to the very edge of the cliff. He squatted, facing the direction of the boat, holding on to the straps of the backpack and wrapping his hands around them a few times. He looked over his shoulder at me.

“Hold on to me as tight as you can. Don’t look down. Don’t let go.”

I was too afraid to move. This was going to be the world’s most terrifying zipline ever.

But I felt a random hand tug at the back of my cargo pants, and I knew it was zero hour. One more hesitation and I would be dead.

I wrapped my arms around one of the backpack straps, linked my hands across Dex’s chest and squeezed him for dear life.

A growl and moan from behind me, someone’s hot breath filled with death and decay, floated up the back of my neck. I pushed away with my legs and we were gone.

As we dropped away from the cliff, the backpack sliding forward with an abrasive, high–pitched sound, the rope caved down with our weight. We flew through the air at a startling speed. I couldn’t watch, I just concentrated on holding on to Dex as hard as I could, even though I knew I was slipping inch by inch.

Snap.

Before I could process what the noise meant, the tension in the rope gave way and we were suspended in air. Then we were free falling.

I screamed as we both fell, not knowing where we would land.

I hit the water like a brick, the cold seizing my lungs and shaking me awake. I rose up and paddled furiously against the water, searching for Dex.

“Dex!” I screamed, the frigid salt.w.a.ter splas.h.i.+ng against my open mouth. I splashed frantically, trying to stay afloat, to see above the waves. I couldn’t see him anywhere. The rope was gone. The lepers watched from the top of the cliff. The boat was free and slowly floating away from me, maybe a couple of yards away.

“Dex!” I yelled again, panic rising, my arms treading water as rapidly as they could. There was no light here in the water, only the vague reflection of the moon through the fog vapors. The water was black, the swells obscuring my vision every other second, and Dex was nowhere to be seen.

I panicked. What could I do? What if he drowned? What would I do?

The thought was too painful to handle. I felt everything start to shut down, including the will to keep living, to make a swim for the boat as the current and riptides led it out to the open oceans.

I screamed one last time. It sounded dull, as if no one was around to hear it.

Then a splash from behind me. I twirled around to see Dex pop his head out of the water.

“Got it!” he cried out through chattering teeth and held up the rope in his hands.

It was the greatest sight I’d ever seen.

He swam over to me and handed me the rope. “Can you do this?” he asked between splashes of waves. “We need to haul ourselves in. Pretend the boat is one big fish. OK?”

I nodded and together we both started to pull at the rope. There was no way we could pull the entire thing towards us, so we moved our hands along it, one on top of the other, steadily going up the length of the rope like we were rock climbing. It was tiring and the water was starting to slow my limbs down to an unfeeling slog. But eventually, we were getting closer to the boat.

I just couldn’t go any further. My hands had lost all nerves and my heavy boots were weighing me down, too heavy to lift up and kick.

Dex scooped his arm around me. “Hold on to me, baby. We’ll make it.”

His face was alabaster, his lips a sick shade of blue. This reminded me of the end of t.i.tanic. That was a fate I didn’t want for myself.

With what little energy I had left, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he continued to pull us both. Where he got the strength to pull us both in, I didn’t know.

I must have fallen asleep on his back. The next thing I knew, Dex was yelling at me, telling me to put my feet up on the ladder.

I looked up. I thought my head might roll off. It was that heavy.

We were at the back of the boat. I was face to face with the exhaust pipe. The ladder was down and right beside us in the water. Dex moved my legs over for me. I was supported, even though I couldn’t feel my feet.

He took my hand into his shaking one and pressed it against the ladder rung.

“Hold on tight. Hold on as tight as you can, OK? Don’t let go,” he pleaded loudly. I nodded feebly. He climbed up the ladder, leaving me clinging on to the rung. I was so close to be being saved, and yet closer to letting go.

Dex knew that. Once he was on board, he leaned over and grabbed me by the elbow and began to pulled pull me up like a 130–pound marlin. I felt bad that I couldn’t do anything to help him.

But somehow he managed. I was pulled up on deck. I lay on my back, unable to move.