by Paula Stokes
As I approach the Pot Hole, I see Holden’s silhouette in the opening to the cave. He gestures with one hand, almost like he’s talking to someone. As I grow closer, I hear snippets of his voice—Holden is talking to someone—but I don’t see a second figure. The other person must be just inside the opening to the Pot Hole. The wind steals away most of their words and I can’t make out any responses. I hang back for a couple of minutes, waiting to see who he’s talking to, but no one ever emerges from the cave.
Holden’s eyes scan the beach and I freeze, thinking maybe he won’t be able to pick out my form amid the driftwood and boulders, but I can almost feel it when he zeroes in on me. He waves and I clamber up the slippery rocks, all the while expecting to see someone besides him at the top. But no one else is here.
The wind whips Holden’s hair back from his face. He hugs his arms across his chest. “Shit, it’s cold. And my boots apparently leak.”
I glance down. His boots are soaked. Behind him, water sloshes back and forth in the cave. It’s not high enough for me to see it, but I can hear it. “Tide’s coming in quick, huh?”
“Yep. Drier out here, believe it or not.” He pulls the collar of his thick flannel shirt up to cover the back of his neck.
Lightning slashes across the sky, illuminating the swirling, choppy waters of the Pacific. White froth paints the tops of gray-green waves. Out in the distance, a buoy dances maniacally, its red caution light carving a scarlet streak into the darkness.
Most people describe the ocean with words like “beautiful” and “mesmerizing,” but when you live in a coastal town, you’re more likely to use words like “powerful” and “deadly.”
Raindrops hammer against my cheeks like tiny nails. I lean back against the wall of the cliff and wrap my scarf around my mouth and nose. “Who were you talking to?” I ask, my voice slightly muffled by fabric. “I thought I saw you talking to someone a few minutes ago.”
Holden cocks his head to the side. “You mean on the phone? My mom called to say that the cops had traced the location of where the email was sent from. Apparently someone sent it from a public computer in the community college lab. Detective Reyes is trying to find out if there’s security camera footage from that day she can review.”
“Do they think they’ll have it?” My heart pounds in double time at the thought of finally knowing who’s been blackmailing me.
“I don’t know, but just that info should hopefully be enough to clear me. I stopped by my grandparents’ house that day on the way to school. Their neighbor was over borrowing a tool from my granddad. They can tell the cops I couldn’t have been at the community college at the time when the email was sent.”
“That’s awesome,” I say. And then, “So you were on the phone? I thought someone else was here with you.”
Holden shakes his head. “You’re the only person I meet here, Embry.”
I peer past him into the crevasse again. The water level rises each time another wave rolls in. If there was anyone in there, they’ve already escaped out the other side, onto Azure Beach. I guess I could have been mistaken about what I saw.
I mean, why would Holden lie to me? He wouldn’t, unless he’s involved somehow. But that’s crazy. Holden has been my number one supporter throughout this whole mess. And he’s just as guilty as I am. I’ve got to stop seeing threats everywhere I look. That’s part of what got me into this mess in the first place—not trusting anyone, being too afraid to tell the truth.
“I think of this as our spot now,” he continues. “You know, since we torched our other one.”
I wince at the wording. “Our spot is a natural cave that’s flooded half the day and always smells like weed.” I hold up one arm to block a sudden barrage of cold rain from hitting my eyes. “How romantic.”
“I can’t help it that all the teenage pot smokers of Three Rocks enjoy chasing each hit with some fresh ocean air.” He chuckles. “Speaking of which, you’ll never guess who I caught crawling out of here when I arrived.”
“Who?”
“The littlest O’Riley.”
“Frannie? No way. She does not smoke weed.” But even as I say this, I think back to her bloodshot eyes at school. I know she’s been fighting with her mom, but maybe that was only part of it.
“I mean, she didn’t stick around to talk, but she was with Matt Sesti, that guy who works with you. Everyone knows he’s the guy you go to if you want weed but don’t know anyone old enough to buy it for you. If they weren’t smoking, then I don’t want to know what they were doing in here together.”
I frown. “Matt is like twenty-one. There’s no way he’d be messing around with a sixteen-year-old.” I try to remember the shadows I saw walking along the beach. It could have been Frannie and Matt. It could have been a lot of people.
“You’re only seventeen. Didn’t you tell me he hits on you sometimes?”
“Yeah, but at least I’m almost eighteen,” I say.
“Well, this particular hideout is really only good for a couple of things. But who could blame the girl for smoking a little weed growing up in her family? It’s probably a high-stress environment.” Holden coughs. “Anyway, you said you got another message?”
“Yeah. I wanted to show you in person.” I hand him my phone, still thinking about Frannie, wondering what kind of issues she could be having with her mom that would cause her to turn to drugs.
“Jesus Christ,” Holden says. “Why do they want you to steal someone’s gun?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to the cops,” I say. “Tonight. If you want, we can show this to your mom first, get her advice on what to do, whether we need lawyers or whatever.”
“What about your mom?”
“She’s already asleep, but I’ll tell her everything tomorrow.”
“You sure you wanna do this? We could both end up going to jail . . .”
“I know. I—I just can’t take the chance. This person tried to kill Julia. If I don’t go to the police and something happens to someone else, I will always wonder if I could have prevented it.”
“But you did what they wanted with Julia. Maybe they knew she’d be okay and were just trying to scare you.”
“Yeah, well. Mission accomplished.”
Holden taps the screen of my phone. “You know, there’s still some time. I’ve filled Katrina’s car up at the station before. I might be able to break into it. Then we could try to trap Unknown. Hide out by the Pot Hole and see who comes to get the gun.”
A chill creeps up my spine. Once again, Holden is trying to talk me out of doing the right thing. He’s probably just looking out for both of us, but what if he’s not? What if there’s a darker reason he doesn’t want me to go to the cops? Stop being paranoid, Embry. I take in a deep breath and let it out.
“No. Absolutely not. Neither one of us is getting caught breaking into a car or stealing a gun. I’m done letting Unknown blackmail me,” I say. “Besides, if we go to the police and explain how the email with the video and what happened to Julia are connected, maybe they’ll figure out who Unknown is before they can try to hurt anyone else.”
“I understand how you feel. I just wish there was some way to report this guy without confessing to a major crime . . .” Holden swipes through the messages again, his face contorting into a scowl. “Forget it. If it’ll make you feel better, then I think you should make a police report.”
I nod. Tears pool in my eyes as I consider the gravity of my decision. “I’m scared, Holden,” I whisper. But then I think of my mom’s words again. This is something I can control. I just have to be brave.
Holden pulls me in close and wraps his arms around me. I can feel his heart beating in my ear. The slow and steady thumping calms me. “Me too,” he says. “My mom is going to be so pissed at me. I have no idea how we’re going to be able to pay for the damages. But whatever, we’ll figure it out. We’ll all figure it out . . . somehow. The important thing is that this guy doesn’t get to hurt anyone els
e.”
The rain has tapered off and the wind has died down, making it feel a little warmer than it was on the way here. Mist hangs in the air, giving the beach a ghostly shrouded look. I press my face against Holden’s chest, drinking in the scent of laundry detergent, the dampness of his flannel shirt cool against my cheek. I start to let my eyes fall shut, but suddenly there’s a flicker of movement. A shadow crosses my field of vision—a shadow from inside the Pot Hole.
Someone is watching us.
Twenty-Eight
I BREAK AWAY FROM Holden’s embrace and lunge for the opening in the cliff.
“Embry!” he shouts.
Fueled by adrenaline and the overwhelming need to confront Unknown, I practically fly through the hole and slide down the incline into the cave. Immediately I’m waist-deep in water.
“Embry? What are you doing? Are you—” The rest of Holden’s words are stolen by the wind, but I’m sure they included something like “crazy” or “insane.”
I am not those things, but I will be if I don’t figure out who’s tormenting me, and why. As my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, there’s movement in my peripheral vision. I jerk my head just in time to see what I think is a wavering shadow ducking through the exit onto Azure Beach. I slosh through the water after him—or was it a her?
“Wait!” I shout. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Embry!” I hear Holden drop down into the water behind me. “Come back. We’re going to drown.”
I register the fear in Holden’s voice, but I don’t understand it. He’s being paranoid. The water isn’t even up to my chest. I push forward. Just a couple more yards and I’ll emerge out the other side of the cave, hopefully in time to catch a glimpse of whoever was spying on us.
There’s a crashing sound as a particularly fierce wave hits the rocks. Then there’s a rushing, a roaring, and I realize my mistake. The cave is filling with water—quickly. In a few seconds it’ll be over my head.
“Shit,” I mumble as I flail toward the opening onto Azure Beach. I lose my footing on a slippery rock and my head goes under. The shock of the icy water on my face steals away my breath. My eyes burn and I have to squeeze them closed and swim for what I think is the exit. I wonder where Holden is. Did he get out in time?
The current pushes my body toward the opening and spits me back out into the night. I fight for the surface and my head emerges from the waves. I forgot that Azure Beach is completely covered at high tide. I’m only about ten yards out from the shore, but right now the shore is just a slippery wall of rock.
Stars shine down between breaks in the thick gray storm clouds, providing only the faintest bit of light. Doing my best to tread water against the push and pull of the ocean, I suck in a huge breath of air and look around for Holden. I don’t see him anywhere.
The current pulls me farther out to sea. My heavy winter clothes are starting to drag me toward the bottom. A wave crashes down on me. The icy water is everywhere now—my entire body is going numb.
“Holden!” I scream in exasperation, but it comes out like the bleat of a dying sheep. Come on, Embry. You can’t die here. I can’t. My mom needs me. Focus on the things you can control . . . There’s always something. I grit my teeth as I kick off my heavy rain boots and shuck my way out of my jacket.
“Embry! Over here.” Holden’s voice sounds far away, like an echo of a video of a radio. Wisps of fog twist and twine around me like blindfolds. I can’t swim toward him because I have no idea where he is.
“Holden,” I croak. I fight to stay afloat, but I can’t even tell if my arms and legs are moving. The fog that’s swirling around me grows thicker. I imagine it penetrating my eyes and ears, clouding up my brain. Am I farther away from the shore now?
The waves toss me one way and then the other. Everything is twisting. Everything is slowing down. I’m not quite sure where the land is anymore. I’m not quite sure what my name is anymore.
“Embry!” Holden yells.
That’s right. Embry. Like Ember, only different. Mom said she got the name from a Jehovah’s Witness who came to our door once with his daughter. Her name was Embrie. Mom liked the sound, but liked the y better than the ie.
“Seal Rock,” someone says.
Not someone—Holden. I struggle to remember what Seal Rock is. Another wave crashes over my head. Somehow, the water feels less cold. My eyelids are getting heavy. My whole body is like a big giant anchor, weighting, weighting me down. I need to let go of it and then I can float up into the clouds. I close my eyes. My body starts to sink. My mind flutters its wings and prepares for flight. But then my head collides with something jagged and hard.
My eyes flick open. “Seal Rock,” I whisper.
Seal Rock is a long, angled rock at low tide. At high tide it’s just a small shelf of limestone sticking up above the water. I grab onto the side of it, my fingers still numb and barely working.
Holden appears out of the fog, his hair a cascade of blackness against his pale skin. He’s still got his boots and his heavy flannel, which hangs open, exposing the soaked Henley underneath. “Hang on.” He reaches toward me. “Give me your hand.”
It takes me a few seconds to peel my frozen fingers from the jagged stone. Holden tugs me—mostly deadweight, unable to help—from the frigid ocean and up onto the rock, where the even more frigid air rips through my wet clothes and freezes my skin.
Instinctively I curl into the fetal position.
“No, you gotta get up, Embry.” Holden points across the jagged outcropping. “If we get to the other side of the rock, we can make it back to Azure Beach. But we gotta go now before the tide comes in the rest of the way.”
“There’s no beach,” I say. “It’s just a wall of rock.”
“Yeah, but there’s a trail. It starts at the far side of the cliff. We just have to climb up onto it.”
“Is that all?” I choke out. The fog is growing thicker. Shapes form before my eyes. Triangles. Hearts. Tongues of fire. Burning hotels. An oval that reminds me of dog tags. Luke’s dog tags. I curl tighter into a ball. “Maybe I deserve this,” I whisper.
“Yeah, no. Fuck that,” Holden says. “We’re getting out of here.” He grabs me under my armpits and lifts me to my feet. “Other side of the rock. Now.”
It looks like an impossible journey, but my teeth are chattering too hard to reply, so I let him half drag, half carry me to where there’s a narrow finger of slippery rock formations leading halfway back to the shoreline.
“You want me to walk a balance beam right now?” I ask, my legs buckling at the thought. “I’ll fall.”
“You don’t need to stand. You can crawl. Or get back in the water if you want. Just don’t let go until you’re ready to swim to the cliff.”
Nodding, I lower myself to my knees. Slowly, I crawl my way back toward the shore. Waves crash around me. Raindrops batter my skin. The fog continues to taunt me with images. There’s a book, like the book Julia made me. There’s a tombstone, only I’m not sure who it’s for.
At the edge of Seal Rock, Holden and I still have to swim about ten yards back to land, and then somehow lift ourselves about eight feet onto the bottom of the muddy trail that cuts back and forth up the side of Cape Azure.
“We’re going to die,” I tell Holden.
“No we’re not. You were on the swim team. This is nothing. You can do it.”
I plunge back into the icy water. Visions of my mother dance in my head as I flail toward the cliff. Just like I knew how her face would look if I got arrested, I also know how it would look if I drowned. Stroke. I’m the reason my mom is alone. Stroke. I’m the reason my mom is poor. Stroke. If she didn’t have me, she wouldn’t have to work so hard. She could sleep better, eat better. Stroke. Maybe I’m the reason she got cancer.
All those thoughts hitting me like bolts of lightning are enough to make me stop swimming, start sinking to the bottom. It’s like all the pieces I’ve been hiding from myself are suddenly snapping into
place. But then: I can make it up to her. I can make things better for her, somehow, someday. But only if I live. New pieces. New hope.
My fingers touch the slippery side of Cape Azure. I find a lip in the rock, wrap my hand around it, and look up at the trail. Holden appears beside me. “Now what?” I ask.
Holden hooks his foot into a crack in the cliff. He threads his fingers together and lifts them waist high. “Now I give you a boost.”
I look at his hands, look above my head at the start of the trail. It’s possible. “Then who gives you a boost?”
“Put your fucking foot in my hands before we both drown,” Holden says.
I do it. He lifts me. I grip onto a tree that’s growing out from the path and somehow crawl my way into a puddle of mud. Holden appears beside me a few seconds later.
I curl into a ball again. “S-s-sorry,” I say, my teeth chattering. “I f-fucked up.”
Holden laughs. “Yeah, you kinda did.”
“I swear I saw somebody watching us from inside the Pot Hole.”
“Were they wearing a wet suit and flippers?”
“It was just a sh-shadow, and then movement.”
“Could it have been a seal?”
Seals don’t generally come onto Three Rocks Beach, but I guess anything is possible. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m going crazy.”
“It’s okay. Sanity is overrated.” Holden brushes my wet hair back from my face. “Let’s just get up this cliff so we can cut across the hill and get you home.”
“Fuck,” I say. Since I quit the swim team, my stamina has definitely dropped off. This is the kind of trail I would have struggled to complete when I was in top form. I can make it only a few steps before I have to stop and rest.
But then a blast of wind rattles through the trees and I realize my ears and nose are both totally numb. I blow into my hands to warm my nose, but there’s nothing I can do for my ears.