Page 32 of Waves of Fury

Kellen

“What’s taking them so long?” I demand when Kyle slaps a trash bag onto the cement floor beside Barb. “They should be back by now. Hope, how long has it been?”

Kyle, exhausted and heaving with exertion, just groans instead of answering me. Hope frowns at me, telling me my answer.

Too long.

Not long enough for them to survive.

I wince as I make my way down the stairs. The water laps over my dress shoes as I ponder if I need to try to go after them or not. Maybe I can save them.

Hope squeezes my shoulder before sloshing into the water in front of me. “I’m going in.”

“I’m going with you,” I grunt, forcing myself to step into the water that’s been trying its hardest to kill me for nearly twenty-four hours now.

I may not be able to swim, but nothing is going to stop me at this point, not even the fear of drowning.

Upon seeing the determination on my face, she gives me a quick nod and then dips below the surface. I take a deep breath and then also submerge myself. Hope swims quickly away from me, sending bubbles fluttering in front of my face. It takes a second to adjust my eyes and when I do, I freeze.

There’s a body halfway sticking out of the stairwell door.

Tyler.

My heart tightens in my chest as I push off the steps toward the door. Hope pulls Tyler through the opening before handing him to me. Then she disappears through the doorway. I hook my arms around Tyler’s waist, dragging him up the stairwell toward the air. When I finally resurface, lungs burning, I realize he doesn’t take a breath with me.

Fuck!

“No, no, no,” I chant as I heft him up the steps and out of the water. “Stay with me, Tyler.”

His skin is pale and he seems so young in this moment. A sob crawls its way up my throat at the unfairness of this entire situation. He wasn’t supposed to die like this.

I force the panic away and start chest compressions. In high school, I learned CPR my senior year, and I’m trying desperately to remember the motions. When I decide I’ve done enough compressions, I blow air into his lungs and then start over again.

I’ve failed him.

I’m the fucking boss around here and I should have been the one to go down there or stop them. Instead, I let four of our people go and only one has come back breathing.

“Please,” I beg, choking on tears. “Please breathe.”

I can sense others near me, but I don’t dare look at them. I’m too focused on trying to resurrect Tyler from the dead.

Hope reemerges from the water, cursing and crying, drops a plastic first aid box onto the cement, and then she heaves Tyler’s backpack down beside it. She kneels next to me, fingers feeling for a pulse at Tyler’s throat, and shakes her head.

With a roar of frustration, I beat my fist hard on the center of Tyler’s chest and then my lips are back on his, forcing air into his stubborn body.

He twitches.

Then gurgling resounds from his chest before he vomits seawater out. Elation surges through me as Hope helps me turn him onto his side. He continues to heave out an endless amount of water, his entire body convulsing. I stroke my fingers through his hair, whispering assurances that he’s not alone.

He’s alive.

Hope clambers to her feet and then shakily makes her way up the steps to where Kyle is lying. “You monster!”

He groans and sits up on one elbow. “What?”

“You left them there and gave us no warning!”

What the hell is she talking about?

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