Page 105 of The Cult

NO!

I kicked my legs hard, propelling us upward. The race to get to the surface was interminable. Each stroke was a battle against the weight of the water pressing down on us. Stay with me, I pleaded silently.

Finally, we breached. I gasped for air; Abel didn’t. I stroked furiously to the quarry edge and dragged Abel onto the rocky shore.

His body was motionless, his face slack, but his skin was still warm beneath my hands.

Stay with me. I kneeled beside him, tilting his head back and pinching his nose shut before sealing my lips over his. I blew air into his lungs. “Come on,” I said before sucking in another lungful of air. I repeated the motion four more times, but there was nothing, only the sound of my own ragged breaths mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves against the pebbles on the small beach.

I shifted my focus to his chest, placing my hands over his sternum and began a series of rapid compressions. With each press I willed his heart to beat. “I promised to never leave your side.” Water dripped from hair onto Abel’s skin. I lost track of how long I’d been doing compressions, but I wasn’t willing to give up.

Abel’s chest remained still, his skin turning a lighter shade of pale. His lips were almost ash.

I tilted his chin once more, pinched his nose, and pressed my mouth against his. The taste of Abel’s lips filled me as I breathed life into him. I repeated the process, counting each agonizing second, until …

Finally, a gasp of air.

I cried. I fucking cried when Abel sputtered. His body convulsed, so I rolled him onto his side as he expelled water from his lungs. His chest heaved, his body trembled as he fought his way back to consciousness.

I sat back on my haunches, joined my hands together, and brought them between my eyes. My chest hurt; I struggled to stop crying. A hollow ache settled in me, a reminder of what could’ve been lost. The gaping void that could’ve been left behind when Abel slipped from my grasp. I no longer wanted to live in pain and sorrow. A sob tore from my lips when Abel’s eyes fluttered open.

“Tobias,” he whispered, reaching for my hand. “I knew you’d come.”

I scurried next to him and intertwined our fingers. “I’m here, baby. I’ll never leave you again.” I leaned in, my lips finding his, pouring all my emotions into a kiss.

We were safe. For now.

I tore the zip-tie bound on Abel’s wrists before helping him stand. He shifted his weight against me as he struggled to find his footing. Gently, I guided and supported him as he peeled his wet shirt off.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but assured. He reached out, his hand resting on my tensed jaw, urging me to look at him. His eyes searched mine. “I’m okay.”

Despite his words, I couldn’t shake the sense of unease that gripped me. It had been too close a call, and the fear of losing him lingered in the air like a heavy fog. “I almost lost you,” I said, leaning into his touch.

“But you didn’t.” He pressed his hand over my heart. “I’m right here.”

I nodded. “What happened?”

“A guard found the guys’ phone and sent me to Orcus,” Abel explained. “And I refused to give them the passcode.” His voice faltered slightly as he recounted the ordeal he suffered under the leader’s hands. “I remembered the guards dragging me outside, and before I knew it, I was sinking to the bottom of the dirty lake.” He shivered, so I pulled his trembling body closer, wrapping my arms around him. “What happened to them?” he asked, looking up at the ledge.

“They’re dead and they can never hurt you.”

The clatter of loose rocks abruptly sounded. Someone was descending the hill. I braced myself and positioned my body protectively in front of Abel, ready to confront whatever threat approached. My fists clenched tightly at my sides, prepared for a fight.

My tension eased when the figure drew closer. Sterling rushed toward us carrying three guns in holsters. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said, handing me and Abel a gun each.

“D’you know how to shoot one?” I asked Abel.

He nodded. “A little.”

“We were taught how to fire a gun before,” Sterling concurred.

“I’ll be fine,” Abel said, reading the apprehension on my face.

“Stay close to me.” I wrapped the belt and holster around his waist.

A distant hum coming from the sky grabbed our attention. “What are those?” Abel looked up and shielded his eyes with his hands.

“Those are drones,” I answered, and not just any drones—these were armed with grenade launchers and automatic rifles.

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