Page 7 of Rescued By the Great Grim

Oh, fuck.

Miriam closes her eyes, and that steady trickle of power that felt so good suddenly turns into a vigorous pull that threatens to pull my organs out of my body through my skin.

I grip the sides of the boat with both hands and grit my teeth. “Stop,” I yell at Miriam. “You’re going to kill me.”

This apparently doesn’t concern her because the flood of power only increases, and I can’t breathe because the stream compresses my lungs together. Those irritating glimmering stars are back behind my eyelids, and I fight with everything I have against passing out again. I don’t like my odds of waking up this time.

A loud thump of wood hitting metal sounds, and Miriam’s grip on the power she’s funneled through me finally relents. As I force air into my battered lungs, she lunges toward Johnny. “Is that it?” she asks, her eyes glowing.

He ignores her, flings the pole to the side, and starts digging in the mud with his hands instead. Miriam stands next to him, wringing her hands.

I keep breathing in and out, eyeing the water walls and wondering if I can climb them to get away from these lunatics.

Johnny digs more frantically and then shoves both hands into the mud, gripping something under the surface. He pulls with all his might, and with a loud squelch, the mud releases whatever he’s gripping, and he falls backward on his butt, holding another long pole in his hand. But this one has three prongs at the end.

He gets to his feet and wipes the trident furiously with the sleeves of his jacket. Gold metal shines through the patches of mud.

“We found it.” Miriam claps her hands together and giggles. She’s still shaking with the effort of maintaining the whirlpool.

I touch the water wall to see if I can climb it, but my hand just passes through. Suction pulls, trying to force the rest of my body through the wall, so I hastily retrieve my hand. I rack my brain for how to avoid Miriam using me as a conduit again.

No solution appears.

I now worry about how to avoid a full-fledged panic attack.

Miriam pulls on Johnny’s arm. “Let me touch it,” she says. “I want to feel its power, too.” He flings his arm out, hitting her in the face, and she falls down. “What are you doing?” She sounds more puzzled than angry. Like she can’t believe he dares to treat her so shoddily.

Johnny looks down at her, a creepy smile on his lips and insanity shining in his eyes. “Taking what belongs to me,” he hisses, aiming the trident at her.

She has only enough time to form a perfect “o” with her lips before a loud zap shoots out of the artifact and hits her square in the chest. Her body turns into ice and then shatters into a million pieces that fall to the lake's bottom. Creepily, a shadow outline of Miriam stays in the air for a split second before it dissipates.

Johnny turns toward me, the trident swinging in my direction. But he didn’t think this murder spree through completely. Because without Miriam, nobody’s controlling the whirlpool and the walls of water come tumbling down with all the might of millions of cubic tons of liquid.

I lock my arm around the seat of the boat and hold on harder than Rose clamped onto that door that she wouldn’t share with Jack after the Titanic sunk.

CHAPTER 6 (HAILEY)

After what feels like hours of the worst Mad Hatter teacup ride ever, the waters of the Sawtooth Lake finally calm down. By some miracle, the boat floats right-side-up, although I am submerged in water off the side of the railing. As I cough up gallons of water, I scramble into the boat and just lie in the bottom for a while, taking gulps of air. I should have drowned when the whirlpool collapsed, but somehow, I took periodic small gulps of air while tossed around in the giant washing machine that the lake became.

I wonder if Johnny survived as well, and the thought has me sitting up, scanning the surface of the lake. There’s no sign of him, but something golden glints in the sun on the shore. The trident twinkles mockingly at me.

My first instinct is to ignore it and figure out a way to get back to the resort and then throw myself into the rental SUV and haul ass back to the Tri-Cities. However, Johnny has my home address, and I’m certain that if he survived, his first agenda item would be to eliminate me as a witness. I know all about him finding the trident and murdering Miriam.

The outboard engine didn’t survive the whirlpool collapse, but an oar is still secured with clamps inside the boat. I release it and awkwardly paddle toward the shore where the trident lies. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to touch the metal with my bare skin, so I take off my soggy jacket and wrap it around the shaft. Even with that barrier, carrying the trident gives me a nauseous feeling.

I set off in the direction I think will lead me to the trail back to the resort, but I really have no idea. Thanks to Mount Regan, I know which way is south, but my body has just been centrifuged and my mind can’t remember which direction we came from or where we left the ATVs.

Eventually, the ground evens out into what might be a trail, and since it’s easier to walk on that path, I follow it as exhaustion makes it harder and harder to place one foot in front of the other.

The sun slowly descends into the sky, and the shadows of the trees grow longer. As the temperature drops, my soggy clothes get heavier and colder. Soon, I shudder and shake as much as Miriam did before a zap from the object I’m currently carrying lead to her demise.

I look at the jacket wrapped around the trident. It’s still wet, but wearing it would warm me a little. Magic artifacts are outside my expertise, but I can feel this one leeching energy from me through the fabric. And something inside it wants to be released. That something whispers to me and want to take control over my mind. I have to focus hard to keep my shields up.

Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply and find my center. I whisper a simple ward and the pull from the trident lessens, but now I’m tired from using some of my power.

A sob escapes my throat, and my step wobbles. So does the trident, and I have to use my free hand to steady it by touching the metal. As soon as I do, creepy voices enter my mind, whispering about unlimited powers and taking over the world.

Holy ghost peppers. No wonder Johnny went bonkers.

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