Death That Isn’t
Chapter Five
Death That Isn’t
SADIE
Cold punches through my pajamas, wrapping around my body like a vise. My limbs go numb before I even realize what’s happening, before I can even think about swimming.
The surface disappears above me in a blur of dark foam and lightning.
I flail, my survival instincts kicking into overdrive. My arms thrash against the water, my rapidly freezing limbs fighting hard against the mounting pressure. The ocean rolls violently, dragging me sideways, and my short cotton shorts pull at my thighs like invisible hands.
I don’t want to die.
My chest heaves, my body begging for air. Panic claws its way up my throat, but I’m not going to die today. I refuse.
Up.
I need to swim up.
The thrashing waves spin me around, flipping my body as another swell crashes overhead. I lose track of where up is.
My lungs burn, and my vision begins to blur.
I’m going to drown.
Instinct takes over as I inhale, water flooding my mouth before traveling down my throat and into my lungs. I choke on it, convulsing as the ocean pours into my chest.
The pain comes quickly.
There’s no preparing for the tearing burn and violent choking. Or the sheer panic. I writhe, twist, and fight the current, but it’s no use. Stars dance behind my eyes, and everything burns.
Then my lungs expand.
Accepting the water.
The pain fades as I exhale, then inhale again. It feels like breathing, but different. Like working out an unused muscle.
I’m sure it’s common to hallucinate when moments away from death. The brain doesn’t want to accept what the body knows to be true. I’m dying. Surely.
Another breath slips into my lungs. My chest rises. Falls.
Again. Again. Again.
I’m breathing. Underwater.
My panic shifts, transforming into stunned confusion. I should be dying. Why am I not dying? God is playing cruel tricks on me. Still, I’m not one to stare down the barrel of a gun. This is an opportunity, and I intend to take it.
The surface above me glows faintly, just barely visible. It’s the light from the boat. I have to get back. I have to find Dad and Tipper.
I kick my feet and pump my arms, but I’m drifting deeper. The frigid water has frozen my limbs, rendering them slow and heavy. The deeper I drift, the smaller the light becomes.
Then it disappears, the dark ocean swallowing every bit of light.
Cold presses against my skin from every direction, the ocean stretching endlessly around me. Up. Down. Left. Right. There’s nothing but black water.
I continue to breathe, my lungs burning but functional. How is this possible? How deep am I? My heart pounds from effort, but I can’t get myself to stop swimming. I’m not giving up.
My ears ring with the distant roar of the storm above, muted now by the crushing weight of water. I move toward it, desperate, when my fingers brush against something. A strand of rope, maybe, or a piece of line torn free from the boat.
It slides past me before I can grab it.
Panic spikes again, and I kick harder, but my body barely moves.
I’m still drifting when something grabs my arm. It clamps around my bicep, wrapping around the muscle. A hand. It has to be. There are five distinct fingers, with one being an opposable thumb.
My entire body jerks, fear racing down my spine. I wrack my brain, trying and failing to think of an oceanic creature with fingers.
None.
None that are real, at least.
I twist sideways, trying to pull away, but the hand yanks me forward. Its grip is tight, borderline painful, and my scream is lost in the water as it begins dragging me through the darkness.
Water pours into my mouth and nose, and my legs drag uselessly behind me. I try to pry the hand off, but it’s no use. Whoever is holding me is strong, and it doesn’t help that I can’t see a damned thing.
I swipe my free arm aimlessly through the water, but I never make contact with the creature. It continues pulling me, and what feels like hours pass when the darkness finally begins to shift around us.
At first, I think it’s my eyes adjusting, but then I see light. It’s faint and far away, but there’s a definite greenish-blue hue up ahead. It glows in the distance like a star, and we’re heading straight for it.