13

I KICKED HIM.

Hard.

“YEEEOW!”

He jumped back, leaving a path between him and the cabin.

I ran for it.

Wes darted after me.

The crowd was closer now. Twenty yards behind me, tops.

As I glanced over my shoulder, I stumbled against something.

A shovel. Someone had left it leaning against the wall.

I fell to the ground.

Take it.

My fingers clasped the shovel handle.

I stood.

No time to think.

I ran to the fire. Pushed the shovel underneath.

I lifted a mass of pulsating orange. As I tossed it into the woods, it spat sparks like a comet.

The grass caught first, the flames immediately spreading to the brush and beyond, a rolling carpet of fire.

“RACHEL!” Wes yelled.

“What are you doing?” Mary Elizabeth pleaded.

I scooped a mass of burning ash and spun around toward Wes.

He backed away. “Rachel, we aren’t the enemy. Don’t do this.”

“You look afraid,” I said. “Why? You live forever, don’t you?” I turned toward the crowd now. “DON’T YOU?”

They were already dispersing. Running for water.

I saw flames licking the bark of the trees. Climbing upward. I could feel the heat of the gathering fire.

And beyond the flames, I saw a figure in the woods. A shadow of a man. Bent, bearded, dressed in a long slicker.

Facing me.

I stood, mesmerized. Wanting for him to come into the light.

But he didn’t move an inch.

“Have you lost your mind?” someone yelled out.

Maybe.

I flung the shovel aside and ran away from the fire. Into the darkness behind the cabins.

Into the trees.

I kept my arms out in front of me, fending away branches and trees. My feet sank into the sandy soil. Scrubby bushes scratched at my ankles. I pumped harder, until my thighs shrieked in protest.

Follow the breeze.

The sound of the ocean.

Where was it?

Lost.

I was lost.

Running blindly.

Suddenly the ground rose in front of me and I was pulling myself upward on vines and grasses, stumbling, gasping —

And then I fell.

Head over heels in the sand. Sand in my hair and eyes and mouth.

It stung. It scraped my dry throat. I stood up, coughing. As I tried to get my bearings, I staggered toward the silhouette of an old hulking

What?

Boat.

It was a boat and I was on a beach.

Alone.

I could hear the crowd. Somewhere. Far.

I felt the boat. It was solid metal. It had curved sides with an enormous, jagged gash. Flat top.

A submarine.

Great. Now what? I pilot it out of here with a yo ho ho and full steam ahead?

The voices were coming nearer.

I glanced toward the water.

In the moonlight, the cloud wall appeared thick and muddy. Where it ended, a path of amber-white led to the shore, illuminating a short, rickety dock.

Tethered to the dock were two rowboats.

Footsteps.

Closer now.

GO.

I ran onto the dock, untied one of the boats’ lanyards, and jumped in.

I pushed off hard. As the boat lazily floated away, I sat down and attached the oars to the oarlocks.

I was facing the cloud wall now.

Heading into its belly.

I could hear its roar. Waiting. Hungry.

Go.

I pulled hard on the right oar and the boat began to spin. I dug again. And again.

But it wasn’t turning right. It was fighting me.

I pulled harder on the oars, but I was moving the wrong way now, moving backward.

Backward?

I looked over my shoulder and saw a silhouette in the water. Wes.

Pulling the lanyard.

Pulling me back in. Climbing onto the dock.

I set down the oar.

And I jumped.