Page 61 of The Hunt

After five minutes of navigating our way through the thick stream of guests descending below the deck, we finally reached the bottom of the stairs. I led Cheryl to the room I’d woken up in earlier.

Once we were inside, I gestured to the note pinned to the empty garment bag. “See?” I said. “This is what I told you about.”

Cheryl took a step closer and stared at it for a long moment, her lips pressed into a tight line. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and full of disbelief. “You really weren’t lying.”

“No. I swear.”

“I’ve heard of this kind of thing happening, but I didn’t expect...” She trailed off, head shaking. “I didn’t think I’d get proof so soon.”

I blinked in confusion. “Proof of what?”

“Listen, Everly. I didn’t want to say this before, because I had no idea who you were, but I think I can tell you now,” she said in a low voice, eyes darting around to make sure no one else was listening in from the hall. “I’m a j—”

A sudden flash of light outside the window briefly blinded me, followed by a booming sound that rattled the walls. A sharp gasp rose from the crowd clamoring outside the room as the air filled with panic.

"Everyone, please remain calm!” The captain's voice crackled through the intercom, though it sounded strained. "This is what we call a freak storm. It seems to come out of nowhere, but really, it’s the same as any other storm. Everything is going to be fine. Right now, it’s directly above us, but we’re doing our best to navigate it. Stay where you are, stay calm, and let the crew handle things."

The booming continued, almost like the storm was actively trying to tear the ship apart. Another flash of lightning lit up the room, casting everything in an eerie, unnatural glow. The small windows rattled as rain poured down them in sheets, slashing against the glass with a fury that seemed to match the chaos outside.

“Holy shit,” I muttered. “This really did come out of nowhere.”

Cheryl moved closer to me, her face pale. She rubbed her forehead and muttered something under her breath. "I don’t feel right," she said, voice thin and tremulous. “Do you?”

I blinked, trying to focus, but the room around me suddenly seemed to ripple, like the air itself was warping. Shadows from the flashing lightning, perhaps.

“I feel a bit dizzy,” I said. “It must be from the storm rocking the boat so much. It’s crazy.”

“No, it’s—” Cheryl cut herself off midsentence, shaking her head. “It’s not the storm. I feel… I don’t know…”

She trailed off, voice going from shaky to outright slurred as she stumbled forward. I grabbed her arm to steady her, but it was difficult because my own legs were beginning to feel unsteady. My head was spinning too, like I was drunk, but all I’d had tonight was a glass of water.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I almost fell over, losing my grip on Cheryl’s arm. I clutched the edge of the bed to steady myself, my breaths coming in shallow, unsteady gasps.

"Everly?" Cheryl's voice reached me, but it was muffled, like she was underwater. "You feel it too, don’t you?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but all I could do was nod slowly. Everything was spinning, and my body felt heavy, my limbs unresponsive.

A voice from outside the room cut through the haze. “There’s a fucking hole!”

It was followed by another urgent voice. "We’re sinking! Get the lifeboats!"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I tried to focus on the door, but the room was growing darker, the edges of my vision flickering in and out as if the storm outside was bleeding right into my mind.

A second later, there was a high-pitched scream. Then everything went black.

14

Everly

I wokeup to the faint sound of waves lapping against the shore, my face pressed into cold sand. My head throbbed, and everything felt disoriented, like my brain was trying to catch up with my body.

Pushing myself up onto shaky elbows, I glanced down at myself. My red dress clung damply to me. It wasn’t soaked; just wet enough to suggest I’d been lying here for a few hours. My hair was fully dry, at least, and I brushed away a few stray grains of sand stuck in the ends.

My shoes were gone, and one of my earrings was missing too, but my wristband was still in place, the silver reflecting the sparse sunlight breaking through the gray clouds above. I scanned the area around me and spotted bits of debris scattered along the beach. A deflated flotation device lay a few feet away, tangled in seaweed.

As I struggled to my feet, brushing sand from my legs, a voice cut through the steady crash of the waves. "Hey.”

I spun around, startled, and saw a tall man with reddish-brown hair walking toward me. He was wearing a wristband like mine, and he looked just as ragged as I felt—clothes rumpled,hair mussed, shadows of exhaustion etched into his face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

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