Page 62 of Explorer's Revenge
“I don’t know,” I admit, and I push to my feet. He’s by my side in an instant, helping me, then he places his hand on my forehead and hisses.
“You’re burning up. Shit, let me get Wilder.”
I nod absentmindedly as he heads over to wake his brother.
Stumbling with my bad leg practically dragging behind me, I make it farther onto the shore when Wilder joins me. The others race after me, no doubt woken up by Rick.
“What’s going on?” Wilder barks.
“Something is wrong.”
He goes to touch me, but I shake my head.
“Not with me. I don’t know. I just have this gut feeling, like an alarm bell going off.” I don’t know how to explain it. It’s the same feeling I had when the avalanche happened, that shark snuck up on me, and I went to the doctor’s office with my dad. It’s there, and I struggle to breathe.
Wilder doesn’t dismiss me, scanning the beach for clues. The others spread out next to us. “You think it’s here?” Aiyaret asks.
“Maybe,” Way grumbles.
I follow their gazes, but for some reason, my attention goes back to the ocean.
Straining my eyes, I finally realize why it looks weird. It’s thrashing more than I’ve ever seen, with big waves crashing out in the darkness. It looks . . . angry.
Just then, lightning cracks across the sky, and we jump. The wind picks up, lashing us, and the water foams angrily over our feet.
The storm rages on around us as ferocity and beauty blend together, and we stand in the midst of it all. The water churns relentlessly, warning us to stay out of its deadly depths as our toes dig into the sand with no other option but to ride it out.
Either we need to make it through this or we’ll die here like everyone who previously explored this island.
“What is that?” Rick asks, and we stare as the water pulls back, the tide or something else taking it away. Our feet are still damp from where it just crashed into us, but it doesn’t come back. It exposes wet sand and rocks, pulling farther and farther back.
“Tsunami,” I whisper, remembering a documentary I saw a few years ago about this very thing. My eyes widen, and I turn to them. “Run!”
It’s too late.
I turn toward the ocean to see it barreling straight for us.
A wall of water so high it blocks out the moon races at us. There is no warning, no escape. Wilder grabs me as we rush into the jungle, but as we step into the leafy trees, the water reaches shore.
We can’t outrun it.
Wilder throws me toward a tree, and I grip it with my fingers, but the water slams into me and sweeps me off my feet, carrying me away. I hear one of the guys scream before all sound is drowned out except for the roaring of the tsunami.
Saltwater flows over me, pulling me under. I flip and turn with the current, keeping my mouth shut as my training kicks in. Everything happens so quickly that I barely have time to breathe, never mind look for the others.
Something hits my side hard, and I want to scream, but I don’t open my mouth because if I do, I’ll drown. Paddling in the direction I think is up, I swim hard and break through the surface, gasping and drawing in a breath before I’m pushed under again. This time, a scream erupts as I’m slammed into a tree. It hits my arm, making it go numb, and then I’m above the water. If I’m forced under again, I’m dead.
I swing my head around wildly before I see what I’m looking for, and then I dive under and let the current carry me the way it’s going. My arms are out, and when my body slams into the tree, I wrap myself around it with all my might and climb. I manage to get above the water, clinging to the trunk. Every part of me aches and hurts, and my fever still rages on. My bad leg slips, and I press my cheek against the wet trunk, watching the foaming water flow past me.
I see debris in it as well as trees and rocks. A snake lunges for me as it’s dragged by, and I search for the others, but they could be anywhere. It separated us when it hit. Breathing slowly, I look up and force myself to climb as fast as I can to the next branch. I sit on it with my back to the trunk, my arms still wrapped around it just in case.
My heart hammers in my chest as I watch the water pass below, flooding the island.
I don’t know how long I’m trapped here, but the whole time, all I can think about are the guys. Are they okay? Are they safe? Are they hurt? They are strong and smart, but nature doesn’t care about that.
I lean my head back, and my eyelids must close because they open when I jerk to the side. Yelping, I scramble back, almost falling from my perch. The water has settled, moving slower and much lower, as if the waves have retreated. Everything is still waterlogged but nowhere near as deep.
The moon has moved farther across the sky. Fuck, was I out long?
