Chapter 55
Sadie has never been a runner. Never saw the point. Until now.
She can feel the blood pounding in her ears, almost taste her own heartbeat. She’s not sure if anyone is behind her, but panic drives her on. Mud claws at her feet; tree branches whip her around the face.
Keep going, keep going. For Dad.
The thick air is heavy in her lungs. Her chest heaves. She has no idea if she’s even running in the right direction. She could be running deeper into the woods. Instinct is guiding her and, honestly, it could be shot to shit.
Then, ahead, she sees a glimmer of light.
The moon reflecting off water. And she can smell it now.
The dank stench of the river. She slows, panting.
She can see two kayaks pulled up on the muddy bank.
One of them must belong to Lorraine, she guesses.
Fucking insane bitch. She frowns and points her phone around.
Further down, partially hidden in the tangled undergrowth, she spots the boat Freya must have taken.
Another fucking insane bitch. Can’t say she thinks much of the Winsom side of the family.
She hauls one of the kayaks into the water, climbs in and grabs the paddles. Her only experience of rowing was on a pond when she was twelve. She spent most of the time spinning around in circles. So, here goes nothing. She sticks the paddles in the water and shoves off.
She uses the banks to help push the kayak along the narrow river.
Out on the wider river, she has to paddle properly.
It feels slow, like she’s getting nowhere.
The paddles feel heavy and unwieldy. She keeps thinking about Dad.
What’s happening to him? Has he got away?
And Davey too. That bitch shot him, and she has no idea if he’s alive or dead.
Even if she can get help from somewhere, will it be too late?
But she can’t think like that. Just keep paddling.
Keep paddling. Her arms are already sore, but she pushes herself on.
She realizes she’s almost at the mouth of the river.
The lake is just ahead, but now she can hear something.
It sounds like, fuck, a boat engine. Too late to turn back, not that she could, the river is too narrow.
She clears the banks and drifts out on to the wide expanse of water. A boat is heading towards her, searchlight flaring from the front.
‘This is the sheriff,’ Jerry’s voice booms through a loudspeaker. ‘Stop where you are.’
Shit. Tears of frustration burn behind her eyes. Not now. Not when she’d almost made it.
‘Miss Barker, reinforcements are on the way. I’m here to help.’
He’s lying. And if she goes with him, that’s it. For her and Dad. But what choice does she have? She squints into the searchlight then stares back at the black water of the lake. Nowhere to hide and nowhere to go.
She stands, holding her hands aloft. ‘Okay. Fine.’
And then she dives into the water.
She hits the surface hard. And the water is cold, so fucking cold. The shock snatches her breath and paralyses her limbs. She can’t move, and her sodden clothing is dragging her down, like a suit of concrete.
Above her, the searchlight is growing further away. She’s sinking, right to the bottom, out of its grasp. Dark and cold are folding themselves around her, taking her into their embrace. She flails, desperately trying to get her useless limbs to coordinate.
And then she sees them, looming up from the freezing gloom. Rusted carcasses of metal and glass. Cars, camper vans, trucks. Entombed inside, yellowing skeletons, slimy with weeds and crusted with algae. A sunken graveyard of metal and bones.
A scream bubbles up inside her. She tries to kick out, but her foot is stuck, her trainer caught in a mangled piece of metal poking out from a car, a rusted yellow Beetle.
She wriggles and twists, but she can’t get it loose.
Her lungs are burning. She wonders if this is what it was like for Frankie in their pool.
A desperate struggle to reach the surface, an impossible urge to breathe.
And it would be easier, so much easier, to just give in. No. She will not die down here.
She bends and grabs at her foot, trying to manoeuvre it out.
Something else is tangled around her ankle, shackling her to the metal.
A thin chain. She yanks at it, twists her foot.
And suddenly, she’s released. Her foot is free.
She kicks out hard and swims towards the light, finally breaking the surface, gasping in precious air.
A voice yells: ‘There! There she is.’
Someone grabs her arm, and she’s yanked up into a boat. Above her, a helicopter circles, the whirring blades deafening, searchlight painting the water silver. More lights blaze around the perimeter of the lake.
She hears Jerry’s voice again. ‘You’re okay, Sadie. You’re safe now. We got you.’
‘Dad?’
‘We’ve got teams heading out to get him.’
‘Down there, in the lake—’
‘What?’
She looks up at Jerry. ‘The ghosts. All the ghosts.’