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97
We’d made it out alive, but it didn’t exactly get easier from there.
The first thing I did was kick off my shoes, because they made it ridiculously hard to tread water. The second thing I did was hike up my skirt around my waist, because it made moving my legs almost as difficult.
“Nice,” Connor joked.
“Haha,” I said mirthlessly. “What do we do?”
“There’s an island about half a mile that way,” Johnny said, pointing across the water.
I gawked at him. “Half a mile?!”
“You can do it,” he reassured me. “Connor and I have floatation devices on. You can hang on to one of us and we’ll tow you whenever you get tired.”
“I think you better help her, Johnny,” Connor said quietly. “I got hit on the boat – I’m bleeding.”
“Oh my God – are you alright?” I cried out.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you too weak to help her?” Johnny asked.
“No, I’m worried about blood in the water,” Connor said.
It took me a second to realize what he meant. When it hit me, I was more scared than at any other point since Miranda had taken me hostage.
“Sharks,” I whispered.
“You guys get as far away from me as you can,” Connor said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re not leaving you alone.”
“Lily – ”
“I hate to ruin your heroism,” Johnny interrupted, “but I got hit in the leg, too, so we’re in the same boat. Metaphorically speaking.”
“Great,” Connor muttered.
“So, Lily, you can either stick near us,” Johnny said cheerfully, “or you can swim about thirty feet away while we chum the water.”
“Did you have to put it like that?” Connor asked.
“Aaah, I got a gun. Just call out if you see a dorsal fin.”
“Jesus,” Connor groaned.
“I’ll take my chances with you guys,” I said.
Connor frowned. “Lily, I can’t let you – ”
“Chill out,” Johnny said. “Most of the species in the Caribbean are pretty timid. No great whites, no makos, no hammerheads.”
“How do you know that?” Connor asked.
“I figured there was a chance this might happen, so I researched all the possibilities while we were still on the plane.”
“Why didn’t you mention the sharks before?”
