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When I nod, he pushes the boat away from the dock. We bob a bit, and I hold my head as he starts the motor.
“Really soon, we’re at the ship, and you can go inside.”
“Okay,” I say between sobs.
I feel his foot against mine as the motor whurrs, and then the boat’s front end tips up. I uncover my face and grip my bench. That’s when I see the gold lights spilling down the hill—flashlights.
I gasp, and Declan glances back. After that, he revs the motor. The boat jolts up on the front end, and then it’s planning off. We’re flying over the dark water. I look back again. The lights are bobbing near the dock now.
I choke on a sob. “They’re coming!”
He tries to gun it, but the motor is so old. It’s weak and slow. As the flashlights bob—they’re getting on a boat—and I gasp deep,
salt-water breaths, I wonder if they’re using the island’s emergency vessel. I’ve heard tale of how fast it is.
I clutch my seat and shut my eyes.
God please. If you can hear me, please oh please! Help us! I’ll do anything, endure anything, if you can make me safe—please!
I cross myself, and then the other motor’s hum sends my heart racing. I open my eyes, and my body goes ice cold. They’re perhaps a hundred meters behind. Declan’s face is stoic, but I feel his fear.
What will we do?
I turn toward our boat’s front, facing the for a view of the Celia. It’s about the same distance away: perhaps a hundred meters. I can’t stop weeping like a twit. Every bump over the waves throws my body back through time.
I cannot lose him, too! Please, Mummy!
“If we can’t leave together, I’m not leaving you,” he shouts over the wind. The rain tosses his words, needles my cheeks and forehead.
Sailor revs the motor again, and the boat seems to skip over the waves. Perhaps we could reach the ship in time. How long does it take to board? There must be some wait. I’m speculating on the logistics when I glance back up, finding the gold lights behind us have grown larger.
Stunningly quickly, they’re beside us.
Declan swerves away. Our boat’s front juts up. I shriek, and his eyes fly to mine as our motor makes a choking sound, and we’re tip-up again. I’m weeping as I grip the bench. My final glimpse of Declan is his face bent in concentration as their flashlights beam over his shoulder.
And then there’s a massive BOOM! It’s so forceful, so ferociously ear-boxing, I feel as if it knocks me back. In fact, it’s Declan who’s thrown overboard. I watch in horror as he hurdles to the water headfirst, his legs flying up behind him.
In my bones, I understand the violent boom, its otherworldly echo. I’m a ghost as I step to the boat’s side—terror caged in flesh and bones. At first glimpse, I see nothing but mad white caps. Then I hear his choking. It’s not a human sound, but more a water gurgle.
I realize in that instant—he’s not wearing a life vest! That’s what jolts my frozen mind. I’ve this notion of the water taking him, and that’s enough to help me clear the boat’s side.
Gold light spills around me. I see my shadow flick over the water’s surface milliseconds before impact. It’s so cold—so horrid cold—my body and my brain lock for a moment. Then I’m grabbing at the water. My hand swipes his solid body, and I grasp a fistful of his hair.
“DECLAN!”
He pushes weakly at me as his gurgled moan rends my soul.
“Grab onto me!”
His groans morph into hoarse screams as his face tilts toward the moon. The water’s swallowing him. I can only see his nose and upper lip as I grab for him frantically. My arm finds its away around his neck. I lock my elbow underneath his chin and lean back in my life jacket, pulling him onto me so we bob then sink a bit together. Declan’s hoarse bellows blend with my own sobs.
I can feel his body shake as his breaths come faster, weaker…
“Siren.” I’m aware of gold light as their boat idles up beside us, but all I see are his eyes, sagging half shut as he shakes so violently, and I realize the warmth I’m feeling is his spilled blood.
“I love you, Carnegie! I love you so very, very much!”
“Love…you.” His teeth are chattering. His fingers grasp weakly at my leg. He’s trembling so hard, near convulsing. “Worth it.” The words give way to a groan that breaks into a whimper. “Siren—”
