Air whooshing from her lungs with each exertion, she motioned a thumb up.
They hit the surface, and she shouted, “Deep breath and try again.”
They dove together, more in sync. Again, they rushed to settle a stance in the uncertain marsh bottom, in a squat. Was that movement she felt? They shoved harder, each effort slowly swaying the car.
Her right heel slipped out from under her, then the left. Callie’s feet slid in spite of her back-pedalling. The Volvo trapped her at an angle, up to her thighs beside Francis.
He wasn’t moving. And she couldn’t either.
Panic rising, she shook him once, twice, needing him to help. Then she reached behind her to haul herself back out, but the stranger grabbed her left arm, disabling her attempt, not understanding her plan.
She yelled, “Stop,” the bubbles reminding her she couldn’t afford further loss of air.
The man said something incoherent under water, then jerked her arm with urgency. A jolt shot through her shoulder. She tried to pull herself away, but he only heaved harder.
Her lungs burned.
Damn it, they had to quit fighting each other. Pushing into the muck with her right hand, sinking deeper, she grappled, dug, reached for anything solid . . . trying not to think about the too still Francis.
Spots formed across her vision. Could she breathe water? God, of course not.
But would they revive her if she did?
She clenched her eyes. Though she held no air, her chest longed to explode, take in a breath, regardless what it contained.
30 ISLAND GUIDE, VOLUME 22
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48
