Auralia tried that out, and the life vest was less than cooperative.
Auralia found herself foot on the mirror, arm looped through the window, floating alongside the submerged SUV.
Finding the front window down, Auralia was ninety-nine percent certain that Brandy had not survived.
Sliding her right hand along the inside roof, Auralia found the grab handle. Memorizing that position, Auralia pulled her hand out of the water, sucked in a deep breath, and lowered the mask over her face. And against her inner guardian angel’s best advice, Auralia reached for that handle and pulled hard, so she could duck her head into the SUV.
Her emergency flashlight lit the interior. There was a bubble of air.
A pretty big one.
Brandy had pressed forward, eyes open, head angled, mouth wide and gasping.
Sheelah, draped over the steering wheel, seemed unconscious, but her nose and mouth cleared the water.
Auralia didn’t feel a surge of victory.
She quickly pulled her head out of the opening before a drowning Brandy could grab her and kill them both.
Auralia pushed the mask back and sucked in great gulps of air.
A plan.
A plan.
Absolutely nothing was coming to her.
She put herself back on the banks of the Bayou. What had she heard? What did she know?
Brandy’s being conscious was dangerous to her rescue because drowning people are out of their damned minds and will pull you down, so you can die together.
Be that as it may, Auralia would persevere.
How much energy did Brandy have? Auralia couldn’t figure out, with the window down, why Brandy hadn’t just swum free.
Then Auralia remembered the seat belt. Had it locked? Was she stuck?
Okay, step one: saw through the belt with the razor.
Next, take off the life vest and hand it to Brandy? Nope.
But she had the extra rope.
What if Auralia untied it from her vest, so her fate wasn’t literally tied to Brandy’s?
What if she wrapped that rope around Brandy’s waist and handed her one end while Auralia held the other? Then, once Auralia got herself back to shore, she could guide Brandy in?
That was a lot of ‘ifs.’
As Auralia prepared to plunge again, the seatbelt razor pinched between her thumb and index finger, and she thought of Brandy’s father swimming away.
How cruel.
How monstrous.
But she didn’t have the space to consider him beyond that.
Chapter Twenty-Three