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* * * * *
Something painful lashed around my wrist.
I mumbled incoherently and tried to get away.
Only...nothing worked.
Everything hurt.
Everything stung and ached and screamed.
“You’re okay...I’ve got you.” The pressure moved up my forearm, squeezing. I groaned and tried to push it away.
“Oh no, you don’t. You’ll sink.” The pressure moved up to my shoulder, clamping tightly around me.
“Mum! He’s alive!”
I winced.
The words sat heavy in my waterlogged mind.
I recognised them.
English.
My father made us learn so we’d be able to speak when we travelled to a land where we weren’t hunted and safe.
“Help me. He’s hurt. He’s barely holding on—”
Something nudged my legs.
Awareness crashed through me.
Wet.
Floating.
Scratchy wood beneath my cheek.
The slippery nudge bumped my knee again.
My eyes ripped open.
The storm.
The decimation.
The sorrow.
The nudge wasn’t just a nudge this time but a shove to my side.
Everything inside me went cold.
Shark.
Shark!
I screamed and struck at whatever held me captive.
