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That was more likely.
You don’t know anyone’s there. The boat could be empty. And it could have been there for days or weeks for that matter.
But would it have survived
the hurricane?
And if she squinted, she could almost make out a shadowy figure inside, some white illegible wording near the stern.
Or was that all part of her imagination?
No matter what, she had to check it out and she needed the cover of the tree for a few more minutes. The evening was falling fast now, dark shadows creeping over the river’s surface, the air thick with insects, but she could still be spotted. And that would be a disaster. The plain hard truth was, she didn’t have much of a choice. Not unless she wanted to be found out by her husband’s partner, which she definitely did not!
Hurriedly, she took a step.
Her boot slid.
She tried to right herself. Frantically scrabbled for something to hang on to, but no.
Too late!
Her other foot slipped.
No!
Oh, God—no!
Frantically she searched again for some kind of purchase.
Nothing!
A second later, she splashed into the deep water.
Gasping, Nikki caught a mouthful of water as the river converged over her and the current tugged her violently away from the shore. Automatically, she kicked, her feet weighted by her boots, air bubbles escaping from her lungs. She’d been in this river a hundred times as a kid, so she didn’t panic, just swam upward, toward a dusky sky visible through the swirling water. Up, up from the depths to break the surface, twenty feet from the shore. Coughing and sputtering, she tried to tread water but was dragged farther downstream, along with branches and boards, bits of plastic, even a doll bobbing past, all churned up from the recent storm. She shoved a branch out of the way, saw that she was getting farther from the house.
Don’t panic! You can do this! You’re a strong swimmer. The shoreline isn’t that far. Just swim, Nikki.
She saw the house; now, if she could just—from the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the edge of something big and round and black and—Bam!
An old tire slammed into her head. Pushed her under again. She gasped. Gulped more foul-tasting water. Blinked to stay conscious. Was pulled deeper into the murky depths. She tried to grab on to the slick rubber tire as it bounced, but it slipped away, floating far overhead as she sank.
Darkness tugged at the edge of her consciousness.
Her eyes closed.
The rush of the river seemed to disappear and she felt as if she were floating, being carried softly away.
Don’t black out. Don’t!
Her lungs were tight, starting to burn.
She wanted to let go. So badly . . .
Nikki, don’t! Think of the baby! Think of Reed! Nikki, for God’s sake, do NOT let go!
Her eyes flew open, still submerged far below the river’s surface. She blinked and kicked. Forcing herself upward. Ignoring the fire in her lungs. Refusing to give in to the dizzying feeling of weightlessness.
Don’t even go there!
