Page 70 of Tourist Season
There’s a flicker of pure panic in his eyes. And then, as quickly as it appears, it snuffs out, replaced with unflinching resolve. His legs pump. He doubles his efforts to catch up. He manages to come alongside my car, as his hand is outstretched, reaching for me. I reach back. His voice is trapped in a slow-motion haze.Take my hand. All the other details fade away. I just see the lines on his palm. The tattoo on his forearm, the snake’s mouth wrapped around its own scales. The fear in his eyes. And just as his fingers graze mine, I hit the curb.
I scream as the car lurches onto the path. Every bone in my body vibrates with the impact, but it hardly even slows me down. Nolan disappears from view. I hear him yell out in pain and frustration and glance behind me to see his body tangled with the bike on the rocks.
I bump over the uneven dirt and stone. The water shimmers in hues of gold on the horizon. It was silver on black water when I sent the real Harper Starling over a cliff and into the sea. And now destiny is eating its tail, consuming itself. Taking me with it.
The car veers off the path. It jostles, careening onto two wheels just long enough to give me hope that it might tip over. But itrights itself. It straightens, landing on the smooth granite ledge at the edge of the cliff.
Four feet. Three. Two. One.
I grip my harness and close my eyes as the car rockets off the ledge.
Wind whips across my face. I’m weightless. The ocean crashes beneath me. I remember the sound of Harper Starling’s scream in the instant before her car hit the rocks and flipped, catapulting into the violent, churning surf.
And there’s only one word that escapes me when I hit the water. A name. One that surprises me almost as much as the impact that steals my breath. It’s the word I scream as the freezing water rushes into the cab and sinks my broken car faster than I thought possible. It’s still an echo in my mind as a wave folds over my head and roars into my ears, into my open mouth. It’s the one clear thought I have as I reach toward the surface even though there’s nothing to grab, the metal that encases me dragging me down, the last of the ribbons swirling in the current above me as I fall into the abyss.
Nolan.
ABYSSNolan
ISHOVE THE BIKE OFFme and start running, my palms burning, stones embedded in the scrapes along my arms lighting a fire in my torn skin. But the pain is nothing compared to the fear that seizes my chest as I watch Harper sail off the cliff, pink and purple and gold ribbons trailing behind her in the wind. That burn is nothing compared to the sound of her screaming my name.
She disappears from view. I’m still yards away when I hear her crash into the sea.
The last thing I see as I run off the edge of the cliff is Harper thrashing in the restraints. Desperate. Panicked. The car is already submerged, the fuselage flooded. A wave laps at her neck.
I fold my hands above my head to dive. Take a deep breath. Close my eyes. She’s still crying out my name as I hit the water.
The cold shocks every muscle. It fills my ears. Floods my clothes, weighing me down. I fight the pull of deep currents and swim. When I rise above the waves, I’m met with the sound of lapping water. Distant gulls. Nearby boats. Laughter from the festivities that carries on the wind. But there’s no Harper. No echoof my name. Only her silence. Impossibly, it’s even worse than the sound of her desperate scream.
A wave lifts me enough to catch a glimpse of shattered pieces of wood and her goggles floating on the surface. And then, the end of a gold ribbon before it sinks into the black water.
“Harper.”
I dive after it and open my eyes, following its trail.
Shafts of sunlight fracture in the waves. They illuminate threads of color and rising bubbles. Harper’s hands as she reaches for the surface. She twists and turns but can’t escape the car that’s dragging her into the depths. Her shoulders are free of the harness but the belt must still be stuck across her legs. The light behind me penetrates into the darkness, but I can’t see the bottom. There’s only a black void pulling her away from me.
The weight of my clothes and my frantic kicking push me after her. But I already know I won’t reach her in time.
I’ve seen fear in faces before. I’ve seen death. I’ve delivered it with my own two hands. But I’ve never felt someone’s terror cut through my muscle and bone to lash at my heart. Her eyes are so wide. Her mouth is open in a scream, the last of her air rushing from her lungs in a flurry of bubbles. I want to scream back at her.Hold on. I’m coming.She thrashes at the belt before stretching for me once more. Her tears are lost to the ocean, but I know they’re there.
I can’t lose her. Not like this.
Her movement changes. A spasm starts in her chest. Spreads into her shoulders. She folds at the waist only to straighten again. It’s uncontrolled reflexes, the final fire of electricity in cells. The magic of life ebbing away. The tension dissolves from her fingers as they graze mine. Her arms go slack, following the current as the car drags her deeper. The fear spirits away from her face. Itleaves a momentary sorrow behind. The imprint of a final thought. And then, just as I grab her hand, the light in her eyes goes out.
I use her arm to pull myself closer until I’m at her limp body. My ears pop with the mounting pressure. My lungs burn as I draw the switchblade from my pocket and start cutting the belt from across her legs. I accidentally slice her side in my desperation. She doesn’t react to any pain. Blood plumes through the water around us. But I don’t stop, not even for a heartbeat. I keep sawing through the thick weave of fabric until the last thread finally gives way and Harper’s body floats free of the seat and into my arms.
I let go of the knife. It sinks, following the car into the darkness as I wrap Harper in my arms and kick toward the light.
She doesn’t kick with me. She doesn’t grip me back.
Panic chokes up my throat. Every muscle is filled with fire. My lungs have nothing left. I keep struggling for the light wavering at a surface that seems too far for me to reach.
I break through with a gasp, coughing, my heart surging a deafening hum in my head. I flip Harper’s head skyward, pushing the hair from her face. Her beautiful features are motionless. Serene. Her eyes are half open, glazed with a vacant stare. Her damp lashes don’t flutter with the warm caress of the sun. Water trickles from her parted blue lips, dripping from her nose.
“Wake up. Come on.” I kick harder so I can pull my free hand from treading water long enough to slap her cheek. She doesn’t react. “No, Harper.No.” I slap her again, but the impact doesn’t even color her skin. There’s no blood beating through her heart to rise to the strike. A chasm deep in my chest splits open and a sound escapes. An anguished cry. One I’ve only heard myself make once before, when my brother died at my side, and all I could do was lie there and watch it happen. “Someone, help!”
“Here, son,” a voice calls from behind me. I turn to see a sailboat coasting toward us. A man stands behind the wheel, his teenage boy at the bow with a life ring clutched in his hands. He tosses it to me and I grab it on the first throw. He pulls us in with surprising strength, his father joining by his side to grab Harper beneath her arms. I lift her as much as I can in the turbulent water, but the weight of her motionless body threatens to drag us both down, as though the sea isn’t ready to let her go.
