9. Willa
CHAPTER 9
WILLA
T error rips through me, and the scream tears from my throat as I fall through the darkness. My broken body flails wildly, but the wind does nothing to break my fall. Seconds tick by at an excruciating slow pace, as if my mind wants to savor every breath of life left in my body. Roaring assaults my ears, and a cool mist coats my face and arms, bringing temporary relief to the pain. Is that a waterfall? I see the rush of water for a brief second before my body plunges into the cold pool at the bottom.
Water wraps around me, almost like a cradle, as I sink to the soft ground several feet below the surface. All sounds cease in this underwater bubble. Ever since the accident, water has terrified me. Unwilling to risk triggering myself, a shower was my max. I wait for the familiar panic to start, but all I feel is a sort of resignation. This is…was…my worst nightmare. Not anymore. My head drops to my chest. Maybe my mind understands there are worse deaths to endure. Or maybe it’s time to accept that water was always going to be my end.
Between one thought and the next, I open my mouth, fully expecting it to pour in and fill my throat and lungs, thereby ending my pitiful existence, but in an unexpected and dizzying rush, the water builds under my body and shoves me to the surface.
Air fills my lungs as I automatically gasp for life. Again and again, I inhale. Busy trying to live, I don’t hear the shouts above until a rope splashes into the water next to me. Startled, I glance up and see Tommy shouting at Trent, who’s rapidly rappelling down the rocks.
Panicking, I swivel my head around and search for the nearest bank. Body broken, I sob when I raise my arms, but somehow, with the water’s current propelling me, I manage to push through the pain and swim over to the bank. Using my elbows, I drag myself up onto the rocky shore, but the second I’m out of the water, the little strength I have gives out, and I collapse onto my back. Rocks dig into my body as I stare at the stars above, knowing Trent’s coming to finish me off.
Tommy’s voice cuts off. A large splash alerts me of Trent’s arrival. Seconds later, he stands over me, dark brown eyes filled with determination.
Trent shakes his head. “Maybe it’s better this way. I’ll be able to see the life leave your eyes and know, without a shadow of doubt, that I saved this world from another monster.”
He drops to his knees beside me and reaches out with his finger to sweep the hair from my eyes. “Your eyes are beautiful.” Large hands reach out and wrap around my throat. “Such hatred in them. Good. I want you to hate me the same way I hate you.”
He starts squeezing, and I reach up and claw at his hands, trying to pry them off. My fingernails dig into his soft flesh but make little headway. Strong and muscular from years of catching the ball, his hands are steel bands locked around my throat. Unmovable. Tears slip from the corners of my eyes, gliding silently into my hairline. For a second, despair causes me to let go. My hands fall to the ground beside me while I stare helplessly up at him.
Satisfaction flares in the dark depths of his brown eyes.
My vision dims, and the air stalls in my lungs. Sounds almost cease to exist. Everything is muted. All my focus is on Trent. Panic tries to take hold and drag me under, but my debilitating fear fades when I see him smile.
How dare he smile at my death?! Bastard!
My blood burns with the need to wipe that fucking smirk off his face. I bring my hands up, fists clenched, and pound them into his chest. Fuck this. Fuck him. I deserve to live, dammit. Broken and exhausted, the end is close, and yet I’ve never felt more determined than I do in this moment. Something shifts inside me. A spark. Familiar but forgotten. The same feeling I felt the night my parents died.
Cool liquid encases my shoes and ankles, then slides up to my thighs. Creeping like a shadow, silent and steady, it waits for my command. My last breath of air is almost gone. This is it. My one chance. Lifting my hands from his chest, I instinctively lock my fingers in a circle, mimicking the monster sitting on top of me, and in response, the water rises behind him and wraps around his throat.
His eyes widen, and that fucking smile disappears. Hunching over, he tries to finish me off, squeezing with everything he’s got. The edges of my vision blacken to a pinprick, but I manage to jerk my hands backward. At my command, the rope of water around his neck responds and pulls him back. His hands loosen, and I manage to gulp in some air.
With a sneer on his face, he taunts me. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.”
Apparently, the water isn’t squeezing him to death, only holding him back.
“I’m coming, Trent!” Tommy shouts from the cliff above us.
I watch as Tommy begins to rappel down.
“Wait!” Trent yells at him.
But it’s too late. Seeing my tormentor moving toward me, I panic and slam my hands together. The water around Trent’s neck instantly closes, crushing his windpipe and breaking his neck. Firm lips open wide in surprise, but there is nothing he can do, and his body folds to the ground, eyes staring sightlessly in my direction. Dead.
I killed him. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
With a roar, Tommy’s shit kicking boots hit the rocky ground, and I watch him rush toward me, his muscular body eating up the distance.
Shaken from Trent’s death, I scramble backward, one hand raised in defense, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my battered body to move faster than a shuffling crawl.
Unfortunately, Tommy’s quicker than he looks, and his rage at seeing Trent’s lifeless body makes him move even quicker.
Terrified, I scream for him to stop, but he doesn’t. The water responds. Rushing to meet him, it forms a column around his body, trapping him inside and stopping him in his tracks. Face twisted with rage, he pounds at the wall of water surrounding him, cursing me loudly. His words promising more pain and my death when he gets free.
Still on the ground, I push to my knees and stare at the wall of liquid locked around the one who broke me. My trembling hands clench into fists at the thought of the beating he gave me, and in an unconscious move, I raise them high, and with a hoarse yell of fury, I slam them down on my thighs. In a bizarre mixture of horror and relief, I watch the water shoot up and hover above Tommy for a brief second before it rushes over him, drowning him in the deluge. His angry shouts cut off, and although he fights the inevitable, he, too, drops like a stone to the ground.
Head pounding fiercely, I fall to my side. My body is done. I lay my cheek on the cold rocks beneath me. Unable to stop myself, I flick a glance from Tommy to Trent. At least I took them with me. They won’t be able to murder any more of my kind , whatever that means . I watch the water recede, but it’s restless. It ebbs and flows, as if it’s waiting for me to call it.
The soothing movement lulls me into a meditative state.
How could I have not known this was in me? Did I use it the night of the accident or was the pond I landed in pure coincidence?
Pain makes me shudder. Even breathing hurts. It doesn’t matter now. Too broken to move more than an inch, I feel death crawling toward me, his cold breath on the back of my bruised neck. Saddened, I let my tears fall as I mourn the life that’s no longer mine.
* * *
Bright light shines behind my closed lids, but it’s the sound of roaring water and the liquid covering me that makes me frown. Confused, I lift gritty lashes and stare at the sun shining down on me. Where am I? My hand reaches up to brush the hair back from my face and finds stiff, wet strands. The water slips away from my body. I lift my head and see Trent and Tommy staring at me. Dead where they lie. Memories flood my brain, and I sit up.
My pain is gone. What should have taken weeks to heal has been reduced to hours. I lift my hand to poke and prod at my ribs and head, but I find no soreness or broken bones. Zero. Nada. Zilch. It’s a freaking miracle. My gaze shifts to the water covering my legs. Or maybe it’s something else.
My hand trembles as I reach down and run my hand across its liquid surface. Cool. Wet. It responds to my slightest touch, following every move I make.
“Thank you. For everything.” I can’t help but talk to it. Thank it. For a second, it lingers, then slowly recedes into the pool below the waterfall.
Unwilling to dwell on this—whatever this is—I cautiously get to my knees, and when that doesn’t hurt, I stand. My legs are shaky and weak but easily support my healed body. I shift my gaze from the water to Trent.
For a long moment, I stare at him. In the bright light of day, his words and actions are even more astonishing. He truly believed I had power. Because his father had a file on mine. Because my dad had the power to control air. In fact, he bet my life on it. Too bad for him and Tommy… he was right.
What do I do now? I wipe away the tears falling down my cheeks. Crying won’t help. I need to get out of here and find Lionel. He’ll know what to do. I look around and find nothing but the same forest from last night, looking thicker and denser down here.
I need to go back up. My eyes scale the steep rocks in front of me, intently searching the face for any sign of a path. I encounter nothing but tiny crevices in the sheer rock and the rope they used last night. Apparently, that’s my only option.
Sighing heavily, I trudge toward Tommy, my feet shuffling through the rocky bank, and stop. My lips curl as I stare down at him. His beefy fists are curled into his side, knuckles raw and bruised. A stark reminder of what he did to me last night. The urge to kick him over and over races through me. and I raise my foot, letting it hover over him for the longest time, but then I use it to shove him onto his back.
Reaching down, I pat his front right pocket and find what I need. My nose wrinkles in disgust, but it’s my best shot of getting out of here quickly. I slip my fingers into his wet jeans and dig until I find the keys to that loud and obnoxious truck of his. Pulling them out, I carefully tuck them into my pocket and step over his prone body.
On the ground behind him, a buzzing sound comes from the black cased phone on the ground. I stare at it, wondering who is calling, when a thought hits me. I bite my lip, contemplating what to do, and realize I don’t have a choice. Snatching it up, I hurry back to Trent and pat him down until I find his phone too. Slipping each of them into my back pockets, I race to the rope.
Time to get the hell out of here.