Ripple Effect: Lantern Beach Blackout, Book 3

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Ripple Effect: Lantern Beach Blackout, Book 3 Page 12

by Barritt, Christy


  This couldn’t be happening. She and Griff couldn’t be buried alive.

  Yet they were.

  If Bethany didn’t regain use of her limbs soon, the plan these terrorists had set in motion would work.

  “Beth . . . any.”

  Griff. He was trying to talk. But his voice came out muted and strained.

  She squinted, and, through the slit of her eyes, she saw Griff. His eyes were on her, and concern filled them.

  He felt responsible. Bethany knew him well enough to know that.

  She tried to silently communicate that this wasn’t his fault. He always blamed himself for everything. And Bethany understood his dilemma.

  He’d grown up in a house where his mom had put all the responsibility on Griff at a young age. He hadn’t had an easy upbringing, but Bethany thought he’d turned out pretty well. At least, she thought that until he divorced her.

  “Turn . . .” Griff muttered.

  Turn? Griff wanted her to try to roll away from the incoming sand, she realized. Could she do that yet?

  She might as well try. She had nothing to lose.

  Using all of the energy and strength she could muster, she tried to rock her body. On the first try, she remained right where she was.

  She tried again.

  This time, she ended up on her back.

  Maybe this would work!

  She tried again, and again, and again. Finally, she was able to roll away from the cascade of sand that filled the hole. Griff followed behind.

  But she knew their troubles weren’t over yet.

  The sand poured in too fast.

  Bethany tried to move her fingers. Finally, she managed to make a fist.

  Good. The effects of the Taser were wearing off.

  Her gaze stopped at the dark sky above her. She didn’t see the men up there anymore. Were they still watching out of sight?

  She didn’t know. She would have to worry about that later. They only had eight minutes—probably six now. She assumed that was how long it would take the sand to fill the space.

  The granules fell over Griff again. Bethany’s eyes widened as she saw the grains cover one side of him. If he wasn’t able to sit up soon, the avalanche would consume his face.

  Their eyes met again, and millions of unspoken conversations passed in that one glance.

  Bethany wasn’t sure if they were going to get out of this alive or not.

  She wasn’t prepared for things to end this way. So much was still unspoken between them. But she could hear the mental timebomb ticking . . . and the final outcome of all this felt overwhelming.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Griff felt the sand covering him. Creeping into his ear. Around his neck. Over his shoulder.

  He and Bethany didn’t have much time.

  Even if they did regain total movement, getting out of this gigantic hole was going to be a huge task in itself.

  The sand being piped into the space was soft. It would nearly be impossible to use it to climb out. The walls, in the meantime, were steep.

  But Griff was nowhere close to giving up yet.

  He moved his arm. At least, he tried to.

  No . . . this time, it worked.

  He was regaining more movement.

  Thank God.

  Sand covered part of his chest and one of his legs. Soon it would reach his mouth and his nose. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Using all of his strength, Griff turned his head again. He’d bought himself a few more minutes, at least.

  Bethany’s eyes were wide as she stared at him. There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much.

  Why had he been so stupid? Now that he faced death, his choices seemed so obvious. He could’ve handled things better. But he’d only been trying to look out for the good of Bethany and Ada. Would they ever understand that?

  Bethany’s arm moved. She flopped it forward until her fingers brushed his. She squeezed, her touch offering a silent reassurance.

  A moment of hope fluttered through him.

  They were going to get through this. They had no other choice.

  Griff mentally counted to three and then pushed himself up.

  It worked!

  Now he had to get his legs moving.

  Sand covered his bottom half. Soon it would cover Bethany.

  He reached forward and grabbed her arm again. Using all of his strength, he pulled her up.

  She sat up also. As she did, she sputtered.

  Good. She was getting any sand out of her mouth.

  “Griff . . .” she gasped.

  “Come . . . on . . .” Griff managed to pull himself to his feet. Once he had his balance, he helped Bethany do the same. They were both still unstable, but at least they were standing.

  “How . . . ?” She looked up at him and then looked at the ground above.

  That was a good question.

  Griff might try to make some foot and hand holes on the side of the wall. But he knew that wouldn’t work. The sand wasn’t hard enough.

  Bethany stepped forward, as if trying to climb up the sand that was being poured into the space.

  Instead, she sank into it.

  Griff pulled her out before she found herself buried there again.

  He had to think, and he had to think quickly before this place became their grave.

  * * *

  Bethany thought the worst of her panic was done, but it wasn’t. Sure, she was regaining use of her limbs. But their troubles were far from over.

  She thought they’d be able to run up the fresh sand being poured into the hole. But the granules were like sugar. Instead of being able to walk on top of it, she just sank down into it.

  She turned back to the walls. Griff tried to scale it. But every time he touched it, the surface crumbled. There was no grip.

  More panic flooded through her. What were they going to do? They couldn’t die like this. Ada needed them.

  “Bethany . . .”

  She looked over at Griff. He shook his head, as if letting her know he wasn’t sure how they were going to get out of this.

  “We can do this,” she rasped.

  “We can’t scale the walls, and we can’t climb the sand,” he said. “I’m open to more ideas right now.”

  “There’s got to be something.”

  They both glanced around again, but neither of them seemed to see any solutions.

  Instead, they gathered themselves for a moment. This couldn’t be it. There had to be something they could do.

  But what?

  Griff turned toward her, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. “I need to tell you why I left.”

  “What? Right now?” His timing was awful. They needed to get out of here first. Every minute counted right now.

  He grabbed her arms. “Look at me. Please. Just give me thirty seconds.”

  Bethany pulled her gaze back to his and crossed her arms, trying to quell her anxiety. This was obviously important to him. “Okay . . .”

  “I left you because . . . I could feel the toll everything was taking on me after Daniel died. I didn’t like the person I was becoming. But it was more than that. I only wanted to protect you and Ada. I didn’t want the two of you to be caught in the crossfire.”

  What did that mean? “Go on.”

  Griff ran a hand over his face, his gaze distraught. “And . . . I didn’t know what to do. Then one day I got home early, and I saw you outside talking to Mason.”

  “Our neighbor Mason?” What did he have to do with this?

  Griff nodded, the lines on his forehead showing the emotional war waging inside him. “You looked so happy. So carefree. I realized that being away from me was the best thing for you.”

  “Griff . . .”

  “No, it’s true. Plus, I was caught up with my work as a Navy SEAL. I feared the wrong people would come looking for me. I just thought . . . I thought you deserved a chance at happiness. That you deserved a safe life. You couldn’t be with me
and have those things.”

  Bethany’s surprise turned into anger. Who was he to make that choice for her? All these months of feeling betrayed . . . and it was for something that could have been avoided.

  Her hands fisted at her side. “You don’t get to decide what makes me happy, Griff.”

  “I only want what’s best for you and Ada.”

  “Being away from you was never better.” Bethany jabbed her finger into his chest. “Never.”

  “Bethany . . .”

  “Don’t Bethany me.” She started to jab him again when he caught her arm. As Griff pulled her close, she pounded on his chest, and unshed tears made their way to the surface.

  She didn’t want to let Griff hold her. Yet she wanted it more than anything.

  And that was a problem.

  Just as he stroked her hair a little too tenderly, Bethany backed up. “I can’t do this again.”

  “Do what again?”

  “Pretend like we’re a family. Pretend like you might love me forever. Pretend—”

  “Bethany . . .”

  She shook her head. “It’s true. You’re right. Ada deserves to be happy. If she gets close to you again only to have you shut us out of your life, then she’ll be devastated. I can’t do that to her. Or to myself.”

  Before he could say anything, she turned and walked back to the sand wall.

  With any luck, Griff hadn’t seen her tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Griff glanced around one more time, desperate to figure out a solution.

  That conversation hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted or planned. The timing hadn’t been great, but he had to tell Bethany the truth. If they didn’t make it out of here, she deserved to know that he’d only been trying to protect her.

  Her reaction hadn’t surprised him. Griff deserved every insult and jab he’d received.

  He only wished he could go back and change things. But it was too late for that. Right now, he had to concentrate on staying alive.

  For Ada’s sake.

  Then he could figure out the rest later.

  He glanced around again. There had to be something he was missing.

  That’s when something on the other side of the space caught his eye.

  A root from the tree that had been dug up stuck out of the sand, forming the perfect hand hold.

  If they could make it over to it, maybe Griff could grab ahold. Maybe that would give them enough leverage to get out of this grave that had been dug for them.

  The challenge would be getting through the soft sand first.

  “What are you thinking?” Bethany asked.

  She still had that injured look in her eyes. Griff didn’t even know what to say, and he knew that right now was not the time to address it. The sand was already up to their knees, and every minute counted.

  “We’ve got to get to that root.” Griff pointed across the hole.

  “The root?”

  “If we can grab hold of it, maybe we can climb out.”

  “Seems like it’s worth a shot. But how do we get to it?”

  There was only one way he could think of. “You need to get on my shoulders.”

  Bethany stared at him. “Really?”

  Griff nodded. “Really. I’m going to walk over there and let you take hold of it.”

  “But you’re going to be almost completely covered with sand if you do that.”

  “I’ll be okay,” he told her.

  “You don’t know that.” It could be a suicide mission.

  “We’ll figure something out.” His voice left no room for argument.

  Bethany stared at him another moment before nodding with resignation. He knelt, and Bethany climbed onto his shoulders. He ignored the memories crushing at him. Memories of playing chicken at poolside parties when they’d been dating. He had so many fond remembrances with this woman. Would she ever fully understand that?

  It didn’t matter right now.

  Griff sucked in a deep breath and began walking toward the root. As he did, he sank deeper into the sand. Each step was like walking through cement. But he couldn’t lose his balance and send Bethany toppling into this mess. He had to do this.

  He needed to rely on all his years of SEAL training. If anyone could do this, Griff knew he could. It was what he had been taught. Survival.

  He took smaller steps now, practically shuffling through the soft sand. Bethany ran her hand along the wall beside them, trying to keep her balance.

  By the time they reach the root, the sand was up to Griff’s chest.

  Much farther, and he would be totally immersed. Unable to breathe.

  The way the sand filled the space, that might just happen.

  He raised his head, trying to keep his mouth as high as possible. “Can you reach it?”

  Bethany leaned forward, grabbing at the root.

  First try, she missed.

  She tried again.

  This time, her hands were wrapped around it. “I got it.”

  “Can you pull yourself up? Use my shoulders if you need to. You can stand on them.”

  Bethany glanced down at him, and her eyes widened when she saw the sand getting higher and higher. He was going to be completely buried soon.

  “Griff . . .”

  “Just do it,” he rasped. The sand had almost reached his mouth, his eyes. He knew what was coming.

  Bethany’s feet hit his shoulders. She stood and pulled herself up with the root. Using it as leverage, her hands reached the surface.

  That was the last thing Griff remembered seeing before sand completely covered him.

  * * *

  Bethany gasped for air as she sprawled on the ground. But the moment of regaining her composure lasted only a minute.

  “Griff!”

  She leaned over the hole and searched for him. He was no longer visible.

  Her stomach plummeted. “Griff!”

  But he wasn’t there. Could he still hear her?

  “Griff! Grab my hand!” She lay flat on her stomach and leaned into the pit, careful to keep her balance. She reached forward.

  Please, God. Let him hear me. Let him be okay.

  She watched and waited.

  But she heard nothing.

  Tears sprung to her eyes. Had Griff sacrificed his own life to save her? Bethany had known he was that type, but she’d always hoped it wouldn’t come down to this.

  Bethany was halfway tempted to jump down into that crater-like space and try to rescue him herself. But she knew that wouldn’t work. She would just sink into the sand also.

  Had Griff left her because he loved her? She couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation. It made no sense.

  Yet it did. Because she knew Griff. She knew he would do anything to protect her. She’d have to think more about that later.

  There had to be something else that she could do now.

  She glanced around.

  The truck. The sand in the back of the vehicle filled this place. Bethany had to stop it.

  She sprang to her feet and ran over to the vehicle. She ran around the device, looking for some kind of Off button.

  Bethany saw nothing.

  Instead, she climbed inside. There were so many levers. Which was the right one?

  She didn’t know. She began pulling them all.

  Finally, she glanced back and saw that the bed of the truck had flattened.

  Relief shot through her. That should stop the sand. For now.

  Bethany could be thankful for that. But she still needed another way.

  She glanced around again. What else could she do? There had to be something.

  She saw another lever. Figuring she had nothing left to lose, she pulled it. The chute leading into the hole shifted. She stared at it a moment, wondering if that might help her or not.

  And then she realized what she could do.

  She could use it like a ladder.

  Without wasting anymore time, Bethany climbed on top. She prayed
that her plan worked and that it didn’t end up getting them both killed.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Carefully, Bethany lowered herself down the shaft. She knew that, with one slipup, she would end up in the sand, back in the same predicament she’d started in. But she would do this. She would do it for Griff.

  How long had Griff been under that sand now? It felt like thirty minutes, but, in reality, it had probably been only five.

  Five minutes? How long had Griff once told her he could hold his breath underwater? It was at least five minutes, wasn’t it?

  Finally, she reached the bottom of the chute. She sat on the edge.

  It ended right where Griff had disappeared.

  Careful to leverage herself, Bethany wrapped her legs around the tube and began digging in the sand.

  Please, God. Please, God. Please, God. It was all she could pray over and over again.

  Finally, her hand hit something.

  Was that . . . hair?

  Bethany dug deeper, still careful to keep her balance.

  A moment later, Griff’s face appeared.

  His unmoving face.

  Her breath caught as worst-case scenarios raced through her mind.

  Bethany furiously dug until Griff’s face was exposed. But he didn’t move. He looked lifeless.

  She slapped his cheek. She hit it again and again and again.

  “Come on, Griff. Come on!”

  But she wasn’t sure if his eyes were going to open or not.

  Moisture filled her gaze.

  He did love her. He loved her enough to sacrifice himself. To sacrifice his happiness.

  Bethany just hadn’t seen it until now.

  She prayed they weren’t too late.

  * * *

  Griff had tried to maneuver himself through the sand. He’d held his breath, just like he had been taught to do as a SEAL. Only as a SEAL, he’d been taught to do that underwater. Here, he was doing it in the sand. If he slipped up and inhaled, the substance would fill his nose and mouth and he’d be a goner.

  With his eyes closed, he couldn’t tell how far he moved, if at all.

  After a few moments, Griff paused. Was he going to be able to do this?

 

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