by Jenn Black
The killer broke the surface with a loud splash.
“I’m right behind you, Summers. And I’m not happy.”
Great.
She crawled faster, but the killer had the advantage of two working feet, one of which kicked Lori in the shoulder and knocked her onto her back.
Her neck lolled on the edge of the sandbar. Waves lapped at the top of her head.
She grappled for more sand to throw.
The killer laughed and stepped across her chest so that one foot was on either side of Lori’s waist. She dropped suddenly, bringing her knees crashing down on Lori’s biceps.
The sand tumbled from Lori’s twitching palms.
She hoped her arms weren’t broken.
The killer wrapped strong, gritty fingers around Lori’s throat and squeezed.
“And now you die.”
Lori thrashed, trying to throw the killer off her body. Her lungs wheezed out their last drop of air, and no more oxygen rushed in to take its place.
She bent her knees and tried to knock the killer off with her legs.
The killer just laughed and squeezed harder. She lifted her weight from Lori’s stomach long enough to shove her a few inches further off the sandbar—far enough so that her face submerged underwater.
“If I stop squeezing long enough to let you breathe, all you’ll suck down is a lungful of saltwater,” the killer said in a calm, amused voice. “Either way, you die.”
* * *
Davis slammed on the brakes as soon as he caught sight of his house, now a smoldering shell surrounded by cops, firemen and EMTs.
Carver kept one hand on the dash, the other firmly wrapped around the door handle.
“Either drive up by the fire truck or park here,” she said. “We’re wasting time.”
“We’re here,” he snapped, shoving the gear into park.
Loud, rushing water burst from a giant hose and the remnants of his house melted under the pressure.
He threw open the door and ran to the group of uniforms at the front of his house, hoping for a face he’d recognize.
Bock.
“Where is she?” Davis demanded, grabbing the junior officer by the arm.
“Out there,” Bock answered, pointing with one finger. “We’ve got a sharpshooter over there trying to get a clear shot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tompkins is out there with her. They’re wrestling on some kind of sandbar. Our guy doesn’t want to kill the wrong woman.”
Amen. Davis definitely didn’t want him hitting the wrong woman.
He took off for the beach at a dead run.
The sharpshooter stood at the edge of the water, one eye squinting through the sight on his rifle.
Davis knocked it out of his arms.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” the shooter asked, bending to retrieve the rifle. “You’re going to wreck my clean shot.”
Davis squinted at the figures struggling on the sandbar, arms and legs locked together.
“You don’t have a clean shot.”
Praying for time, he shrugged out of his suit jacket.
The sharpshooter backed up a step. “What the hell are you doing now?”
“Going in after her.” Davis hiked up a pant leg.
“You got a death wish?”
Davis grimaced and tugged off one shoe.
“Could be.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lori was pretty sure she was about to die.
Her hands beat uselessly against the killer’s strong thighs and her legs flopped around like the tails of frantic fish, too long out of water.
She, on the other hand, was too long under water.
The killer loosened her hold around her neck and Lori sucked in a deep, frantic breath.
As promised, her mouth and lungs filled with nothing but saltwater.
She choked, gagged, coughed.
Only water came out. Only water came in.
Dimly, she heard the killer laugh with triumph.
All she could feel were her lungs, burning with lack of oxygen.
Lori’s limbs stopped flailing.
The killer gripped her by the armpits and gave her a good shove. Lori sank like a rock.
As she slid further and further underwater, her mind filled with odd, incongruous thoughts.
Graceful waves curled overhead. She dropped further from the surface, the lulling Gulf water much warmer than she’d remembered. Why hadn’t she been to the beach in so long? It was so nice here.
Weightlessness relaxed her muscles. Her ankle no longer hurt.
Squinting into the darkness, she made out the silhouettes of small, flitting forms.
“I’m floating with the fishes,” Lori murmured.
Tiny bubbles shot from her mouth.
A hysterical giggle escaped.
Saltwater rushed in to take the place of the expelled air, but this time Lori didn’t choke.
She closed her eyes and drifted downward.
* * *
Not bothering to remove his pants and shirt, Davis dove into the water fully clothed.
Using all his strength, he hurled himself toward Lori.
Please, let her be alive. Please, let him be in time. Please.
With each carefully timed breath, he squinted at the sandbar.
Two figures. Struggling.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Lori, her face underwater.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Amber Tompkins, her head tossed back in laughter.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Lori, sliding underwater headfirst.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Tompkins, rising to her feet. No Lori.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Tompkins, shaking out her hair and brushing sand from her skin. No Lori.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Tompkins, catching sight of him and flipping the bird. No Lori.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
No Tompkins. Had she dived back underwater to make sure Lori stayed dead?
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
Still no Tompkins. Still no Lori.
Kick. Stroke. Breathe.
He was too late.
* * *
Lori might’ve drowned peacefully had the killer not chosen that moment to kick her on the back of the head, startling her eyes open.
Darkness. Water. Couldn’t breathe.
The killer’s fingers found Lori’s neck and twisted.
Not again.
Anger bubbled deep inside.
Lori fought against the stranglehold and broke free. The killer kicked toward the surface to breathe but Lori grabbed her legs and jerked her down.
The killer struggled for the water’s edge but Lori latched on tight. She climbed up the killer like a monkey, keeping the killer lodged underneath her body.
With her good foot on the killer’s shoulder, Lori launched herself upward and broke the surface.
A deep, hitching breath wheezed into waterlogged lungs and the sun blinded her eyes.
Hacking coughs spasmed from her chest.
Lori fought to stay afloat.
The killer grabbed one of Lori’s legs and jerked, bringing her head underwater for a moment.
Remembering not to breathe in the salty water this time, Lori waited until she broke the surface again before gasping another long, wet breath.
The killer tried to scale up Lori, mimicking her monkey climb, but Lori kicked her off, forcing her further underwater.
Lori coughed up more briny liquid, her throat and lungs aflame.
If she were going to drown here today, then so was the killer.
She sucked in the deepest breath she could and went under, wrapping her legs around the killer’s arms and torso, and her hands around the killer’s neck.
Turnabout was fair play.
The killer fought as fiercely as she expected.
Lori kept her trapped inside viselike limbs and shuddered
. She was going to need air, and soon.
But if she let go, the killer would get free. If the killer got free, she could get to the surface. If she got to the surface, she’d get plenty of oxygen. And if the killer got enough oxygen, there would be no stopping her.
So Lori held on, longer than she dreamed she could.
As the seconds ticked past, the killer struggled less and less.
Finally, she stopped moving at all.
After a moment, so did Lori.
* * *
By the time Davis got to the sandbar, two lifeless bodies floated against the pile of sand.
Tompkins, face down. Lori, face up.
Both very, very still.
Davis lifted Lori by the arms and hauled her onto the sand. He pressed his ear to her mouth, her lips cold and bluish.
She wasn’t breathing.
“No,” Davis said and shook his head. “No.”
He slanted his mouth over hers and blew out all the air from his chest.
Nothing.
Again and again, he sucked in breath after breath, trying to force precious air into Lori’s lungs.
No response.
Frantic, he got to his knees. He placed both hands over her chest and pushed.
A thin stream of murky water trickled from Lori’s mouth.
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Davis swore, and pushed again.
More dark water bubbled from her throat.
He put his ear back to her mouth.
Still not breathing.
Water splashed behind him.
Davis spun his head around. Tompkins?
No. The sharpshooter.
“What?” the shooter asked with a self-conscious half-smile. “I was going to let you swim across the Gulf of Mexico by yourself?”
“Help me,” Davis managed, the words coming out garbled and forced. “Help me.”
The shooter glanced at Tompkins, her body still floating face down, and then returned his gaze to Lori.
“Lips are awful purple,” he said.
Davis nodded.
The shooter crawled onto the sandbar and peered at her face. “Not breathing?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell. I don’t think so.”
The shooter picked up one of Lori’s cold, limp wrists and held it for a second before letting it go.
He shook his head.
“I’m sorry, man.”
“No,” Davis cried. “Don’t tell me that. It’s not true.”
He threw himself across Lori’s lifeless body and pounded one fist into the sand.
“Don’t you do it,” he whispered into her ear. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
He slid his arms around her, enveloping her in a huge bear hug, and squeezed as hard as he could.
More liquid gurgled up from her throat and ran down her face.
Davis rolled over, bringing Lori’s body with him. She slanted across him, her chest on his chest and her head lolling over his shoulder.
He squeezed her one last time and a whole mess of disgusting liquid gushed from her lungs.
The sharpshooter frowned and army-crawled closer. “Good sign. Try CPR again.”
Davis gulped in air and tilted Lori’s head with one hand. He aligned his mouth with hers and breathed out, forcing air into her lungs.
Nothing.
“Do it again,” the shooter urged. “Keep trying.”
Don’t worry. He’d never give up.
Davis sucked in more clean air and breathed into Lori.
Saltwater shot from her throat and Davis almost choked. He leaned his head to one side and spit.
The shooter recoiled. “Gross.”
Not gross. Another good sign.
Davis filled his lungs with air and turned back to Lori, shoving as much oxygen from his lungs to hers as he could.
His prayers were answered.
She wheezed.
* * *
Someone was squeezing her.
Warm lips forced clean air into her starving lungs.
Hot saltwater burbled from her throat and gushed from her mouth.
Lori coughed.
The first choking cough set her off in a series of hacking spasms until her lungs emptied themselves completely of saltwater.
She was lying on a body.
A warm body.
A strong, familiar body.
Lori opened her eyes. Sand. She tilted her head. Davis.
“Thank goodness it’s you,” she whispered. The words came out barely audible and scratched her ruined throat. “I was tired of fighting.”
He sat up and hauled her into his lap, hugging her tightly.
“Not me,” he answered in a strangled voice. “I was never going to stop fighting until I had you back with me.”
Lori wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks.”
“I must admit,” Davis said. “You scared the hell out of me.”
He pulled backward a little and took her face into his palms.
She stared back at him. Could he see the love in her eyes?
Davis bent forward and peppered her face with little kisses. Her forehead, her chin, her cheeks, her nose.
Lori giggled, which set her coughing again. He sat her upright.
Over his shoulder, she caught sight of a tall, muscular man with his ear pressed to the mouth of a lifeless body.
“Is that…” she faltered.
Davis glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Yeah.”
As though he felt their eyes on him, the burly man glanced over.
“Nice and dead,” he called out.
“Cripes.” Lori shivered. “I killed someone.”
Davis forced her chin up with one knuckle and looked her in the eyes.
“I’m glad you did. She deserved it. It was her or you.”
Lori nodded, unsure how to feel.
“You’re all banged up.” Davis brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “You’re covered in cuts and bruises and I think an elephant’s missing his ankle. What the hell happened here?”
“Well,” Lori began and stopped.
Everything had happened. Somehow she’d found the strength to survive.
“I was in the living room when she shot out the windows. Then I jumped out the back when the house blew up. I must’ve busted my ankle in the fall. She shot at me, so I ran for the water. I made it this far before she caught up and choked me. I almost drowned before I turned the tables and… I guess… drowned her.”
“Wow,” Davis breathed. “You did all that?”
Lori sniffled. “All in a day’s work.”
“Then you can do anything.” Davis kissed her on the lips.
She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight.
“You got a regular Lara Croft in your arms,” called the man in the water.
Lori laughed, the sound muffled by Davis’s wet shirt.
Maybe so.
Bet she could even open her own talent agency.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lori signed her name on the last of the release forms.
Despite her claim that it was unnecessary, the hospital attendant insisted he escort her to the exit in a wheelchair.
Davis grinned down at her.
“Pink looks great on you. May I be the first to sign your cast?”
“I’ll think about it,” she answered, admiring the hot pink wrap covering her ankle. Too bad they hadn’t had matching pink crutches. She was stuck with basic brown.
“Wait right here and I’ll pull the car around,” he said and loped off to the parking lot.
Lori sat in the wheelchair, hospital attendant by her side, and smiled.
A gentle breeze blew across her face, bringing with it the scent of spring flowers and upcoming rain.
Boy it felt good to be alive.
Within moments, Davis parked under the overhang.
The hospital attendant helped her into the passenger seat, stowed her new crutches into the backseat, and wav
ed goodbye.
Davis leaned over and kissed Lori on the nose.
“You’re awful cheery for someone whose house burned down today,” she teased.
He shrugged. “If I’ve got you, I’ve got all I need.”
Lori sniffed.
Good answer.
“Where to first?” Davis looked at her expectantly.
Family. Family came first. “She may not be waiting with bated breath, but I really ought to let my mother know I’m all right, just in case she saw the coverage on the news.”
“No problem.”
Davis swung the car onto the road and headed down the highway.
Lori turned off the air conditioner and rolled down the window in order to feel the wind in her hair. Traffic snarled and horns beeped, but somehow the day seemed sunnier than ever.
When they pulled into her mother’s drive, Davis retrieved Lori’s crutches from the back and helped her out of the car.
Crutches firmly ensconced underneath each armpit, she hopped up the walkway and rang the doorbell.
Mama swung open the door as if she’d been standing there waiting. She stared for a long moment without making a sound.
For once, the smell of whisky was gone from her breath.
“Hi, mama,” Lori said. “Just wanted you to know I’m all right.”
A shaky hand flew to her mother’s chest. “I thought you might’ve died,” she choked out. “I thought I lost both my babies.”
Lori swallowed. “You didn’t. I’m here.”
She glanced at Davis and he stood closer, laying one arm around her shoulders.
Her mother glanced sharply at him. “Good to see you two together after all. She’s a tough one to please sometimes, just like her mama. Glad she’s finally with the one who can keep her happy.”
Davis blinked. “Uh, thanks. I guess.”
“Go on now,” Mama said, shooing them from her doorstep with one slender hand. “I’m sure you need your rest.”
Lori nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She turned and made it halfway to Davis’s car before she heard her mother’s voice ring out after her.
“And Lori?”
“Yes, mama?” Lori turned and peered over one shoulder.
Her mother hovered in the doorway, a frail figure in a terrycloth robe.
“You come back sometime, okay?”
Lori smiled.
“I will, mama,” she called back then let Davis help her into the car.
They drove in silence for a few moments before his cell phone rang.