Lizzie lifted her feet from the sea bed and doggy-paddled for all she was worth, swimming past her friends and closer to where Dru was splashing. She wondered if he was impressed, but she couldn’t tell. All her effort went into propelling herself forward.
The water below her swirled and rushed past, pulling her further out to sea. I can handle this, Lizzie thought. I’m properly swimming now. If only Hari could see me now!
Suddenly Lizzie realized that there were no other swimmers in sight. The only thing she could see out this far were boats. She decided it was time to stop. The undertow had pulled her out a lot further than she’d meant to come. She put her feet down, expecting to find the sandy sea bed. Her feet went down . . . and down. As if she’d missed a step going downstairs, they plunged into nothing.
I’ve gone too far out, Lizzie thought in sudden terror. The water’s deep here. She floundered, gasping, only just managing to keep her head above water. Remember what Hari showed you. Tread the water, circle your arms, don’t panic.
But right then, a sharp pain split Lizzie’s head in two as if an ax had struck her. Not a cramp but a vision, forcing itself behind her eyes at the worst possible time.
“No!” Lizzie gasped as she tried to shut it out. But there was no fighting the vision. It overwhelmed her mind, an image like a horrifying illustration from a book of ghost stories.
It was a ship of some kind, with a single mast, looming out of a thick white mist. A sickly green light blazed from the prow, casting eerie shadows across the dark waves. Dimly visible through the mist was a figure — the pilot of this strange vessel.
Lizzie didn’t want to look, but her mind’s eye swept closer anyway. The figure was wearing a ragged robe, like a hooded ghost from a stage play. It raised its arms, and from the depths of its black hood, Lizzie saw two gleaming lights like eyes.
It was real. A ghost ship, captained by Death himself.
Lizzie opened her mouth to scream, and the ocean flooded in. Salt water choked her. Struggling, her strength fading with every second, she sank beneath the water’s surface.
The shadow on the ghost ship, still visible in her mind, reached its tattered arms out to grasp her . . .