Correction: Ilovedthewater.
…until the moment we crash intoit.
I’ll never forget how it knocks the breath from my lungs like a punch to the gut. How it pulls at me with aqueous fingers, dragging me to the depths along with the fragmenting fuselage. We hit with a force that rattles my bones and steals every molecule of air from my lungs. Sophie’s small hand is snatched from my grip. The only reason I’m able to hold onto the emergency raft is the strap looped tight around mywrist.
The plane fills so instantly there isn’t even time to catch a proper breath before water rushes in from all directions. I grapple with my seatbelt buckle as my head whips sideways, searching for Sophie andSamantha.
They’re simply…gone.
The cabin has cracked down the middle, sheared clean in two like a soda can on one of those late night infomercials for expensive knives. I hear metal tearing as the front section of the plane falls away, sucked down to the bottom of the ocean. There’s a flash of silver, like light catching the scales of a fish, before it sinks out of sight, into the dark depths of the Pacific. It’s only a matter of time before the tail followssuit.
I have to get out ofhere.
The life raft’s pressure gauge goes off — with a hiss of compressed air, it inflates and shoots upward. The strap, still wrapped around my wrist, threatens to tear off my arm as I’m pulled after it, a helpless fish on a hook. I’d kick for the surface if I could tell where it was. There’s no light, no air, no indication of up or down. I am a meteor in space, drifting without direction, my course set by the gravitational pull of theraft.
My lungs are on fire inside my chest, screaming for oxygen. Black spots explode behind my eyes. If I don’t get a breath soon, I’m going to pass out. My lips open, desperate for air, and salt water rushes into my mouth. I know a single gulp will seal my fate, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. My limbs aren’t cooperating. My body is no longer under mycommand.
I think I see some light, a flicker of the storm at the surface, but it’s too late. Water pours down my throat, into my lungs. It sweeps away my last thread of consciousness, stills my legs from kicking, slows my heartbeat down to nothing. I feel myself lose the fight for survival as that faint flicker of hope above fades out of view and my eyes driftshut.
Andthen…
I’mgone.
* * *
“Breathe, damn you!Breathe!”
There’s a mouth on mine, blowing air into my lungs. Hands on my chest, pounding down on my ribcage in evenbeats.
“Come on! You don’t get to die onme!”
His lips are warm. So are his hands as they cradle my face, pinching my nose closed as he breathes me back tolife.
“Stay with me.Please.”
Choppy pants of air hit my cheeks as he shoves at my chest with renewed efforts. He is a one-man life support system, keeping me alive through sheer force of will. His words are punctuated by the rhythm of hishands.
“Stay. With.Me.”
The voice is ragged. Laced withdesperation.
I know thatvoice…
I choke as briny water rushes up my throat and explodes from my lips. Half the Pacific streams from my nose as wet coughs wrack my body. I heave and wheeze until my throat is raw, until every drop has been expelled from my lungs. Consciousness creeps back slowly. I feel dazed, still half-dead. And frankly shocked that I am not a waterlogged corpse at the bottom of theocean.
Gradually, I become aware of my surroundings. The half-inflated life vest, lying limp against my chest. The strange sensation of the raft beneath me, sloshing with each wave like a massive waterbed. The chill of my damp skin, soaked through from the sea and the rain still pouring down. The strong arms around me, cradling my head and shoulders, warm and sturdy andalive.
I’malive.
My eyes flicker open. I look up into a set of green irises, narrowed with shock and fear. His fingertips flex against my skin, digging in hard enough to bring feeling back into my numb arms.B. Underwood.My stranger from the plane, my asshole from theairport.
My salvation in thestorm.
“I’ve got you,” he assures me, voice low with worry. “You’reokay.”
I want tolaugh.
I’m not okay. None of this isokay.