Page 42 of The Engagement Party

His expression was stark but he sounded so reasonable. So reassuring. But she couldn’t trust anything right now. Fear held her in a stranglehold. She had to suck in big gulps of air just to stay on her feet. She’d never experienced a panic attack... until now.

She let the words floating through her head tumble out. “I’m not going in that house. I’m not staying on this island another second.”

“I know we have to get away but not like this. Not in a panic in the dark.” This time Mitch put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll go in the morning, low tide or not.”

She wanted to scream at him, to shrug off his calming touch, but the last of her energy drained out of her. “Please. I can’t wait.”

The wind whistled through the shed’s wooden boards. Another reminder of the dangers waiting to devour her on this island. Sick, winded, terrified. She needed to harness all of those into an adrenaline rush that might save her.

“Is a rowboat strong enough to get us off this island?” Ruthie asked.

A potential ally. Not a trustworthy one but right now Sierra didn’t care. “It should float.”

“Stop,” Mitch snapped at Ruthie. “Don’t encourage her.”

“No, she’s the only other person thinking around here.” The revving inside Sierra wouldn’t slow. She dropped the boat and pleaded with Mitch to listen. “If we use the location of the causeway as a guide, we’ll be fine.”

He looked at her like he thought she’d lost all sense. “It’s flooded. Totally underwater.”

“We have a general idea of the area. We can figure it out.” The words flowed out of her now. Some of them made sense. Most of them didn’t. “The water won’t be as deep in that area. We’ll travel and have the causeway a few feet under us for protection.”

The actual depth and the temperature of the water were unknowns. A rampaging killer... that head... gave her no choice but to abandon logic and run.

“You know that won’t work,” Will said.

Fine. She’d rescue herself then come up with a way to rescuethem later. But she needed Mitch with her. Needed him safe and away from this life-sucking crowd. She could barely stand without her sore knee thumping, but they’d manage.

Survive. The word played over and over in her head.

She picked up the rowboat again and yanked it toward her. The tip slammed into her chest, but she kept shuffling and dragging. A rough inside edge of the fiberglass dug into her palms. A nail or screw—something sharp—cut into her skin. She’d barely gone three more steps when Mitch shifted to stand behind her.

“Sierra, stop. God, please.”

The tiny flicker of hope inside her danced as it closed in on extinction. She ignored his pleading and expressions of concern. Refused to look at Ruthie again to see her confusion or Will’s skepticism. They could all rot here.

Sierra’s muscles begged for mercy even as her mind continued to race. All logic gone, she moved on pure will. She dropped the rowboat and it landed with a crack. “I’m leaving.”

Swim. So dangerous. The worst option and the least likely to work. Blackouts and notes, dead bodies and stupid games. Had they really been on the island for less than a day? Memories ran together in her head, crowding out every thought until only one remained.Go!

She pivoted around Mitch. Ignored the bile rushing up her throat and the way her sneakers slipped and slid. She ran out of the shed and into the night. The darkness closed in on her, but she could breathe again.

The driving rain had her turned around and twisted. “Which way?”

Mitch’s voice rose over the howling wind. “No!”

“Stop her,” Ruthie said at the same time.

Sierra zigged and zagged. She’d read somewhere about not running in a straight line if you’re being attacked. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. The whole world plunged into a deep navy blue, filled with shadows and shifting shapes. She could smell the grass and the trees. The air carried the intoxicating scent of nature cleansing itself. Cold but clean.

Footsteps thundered behind her as she grabbed on to a tree trunk and used it to navigate a hill. One step then another. She picked up speed, but one unbalanced choice and her feet flew out from under her. Instinct told her to curl to the side to protect her sore knee. She smacked against the ground on her hip. Her body all but bounced down the slope.

Not knowing if her leg would hold her, she slithered from there. Kept her body close to the ground and used her elbows to move as Mitch called out behind her. Every thud against the muddy earth vibrated through her.

“Sierra, stop!”

The grass got swampier and the yelling behind her grew louder. Another wiggle and shift and gravel dug into the fleshy part of her palm. Water lapped and roared around her. She was close enough to dip her fingers into the bay or ocean... she didn’t even know where they were anymore.

Mitch swooped in. Her body lifted off the ground and landed on his lap. She tried to squirm out of his hold, but he yanked her against his chest as he sat there in the mud.

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