35

As she went under, Bouchard heard a dull CRACK! Something smacked the water beside her. She realized that he had shot at her. She dismissed all thoughts of stealth and swam.

A whirring noise filled the water. She surfaced and turned to look back. She saw the phosphorescent glow of the water rolling away from the bow of a small boat that raced toward her. She treaded water and gasped in deep breaths of air. What were they going to do now? Bouchard swiveled her body and saw that Cheryl, too, had stopped. Her face was illuminated by the moonlight, and Anne saw raw fear there. She cursed the brightness; in the dark, they had a chance. She motioned for Cheryl to dive and then inhaled deeply and jack-knifed, clawing at the water as she swam to the bottom. Her hands made contact with a slimy, elusive substance; she was as deep as she could go. She grabbed a handful of kelp, gripping it tightly to keep from drifting up.

The water suddenly roiled around her, and the whirring noise increased a thousand times. Above her, the moonlight made the surface look as white as the foam of a raging river. A shadow broke across her line of sight, and she felt a rapid current and saw the deadly propeller rip the water several feet above her. The water seemed to explode as the boat sped by.

Bouchard let go of her anchor and quickly surfaced into the swirling wake and gulped life-preserving air. The unlit skiff was drifting mere yards away, her captor sitting in the back with his body half turned toward her. He was looking forward, peering into the creeping darkness; obviously, he’d miscalculated how far she’d swum. She dove just as his head turned to check behind.

_________________

Cheryl resurfaced and treaded water. She used her hands as rudders and spun around, frantically looking for Bouchard. She saw the boat off to her right, and suddenly a dark spot appeared in its wake. Her heart hammered as she tried to decide what her next action should be. The boat’s motor idled and slowly drifted as he tried to locate his quarry. She succumbed to desperation. If she stayed stationary, either he’d find her or she’d drown. She wondered how long it would be before the chilly water lowered her body temperature and overwhelmed her. She steeled herself, this was no time to panic—she was free now, and she intended to stay that way. She swam away from the boat, taking care not to make too much commotion or visibly disturb the water any more than she had to.

Suddenly he stood up in the boat and looked in her direction. She heard him curse. “Got you, bitch!” He snatched up the rifle and aimed it at Anne. In the dim light, the end of the rifle lit up like a lightning flash.