Page 120 of Haunting the Deep

I grab his wrist, but he twists his hand and the knife slices through my skin. I scream. Blood drips down my arm.

The lights flicker.

I hook my leg behind his and fling all my weight into his chest, throwing him off balance.

The force knocks the both of us loose from the railing, and we crash onto the slanted floor. And we’re sliding quickly down the deck. I manage to roll off his chest and pull away, but he clings to my bloody wrist.

The sound of metal tearing comes from the bow of the ship. The lights go out. Screaming, there’s so much screaming. A funnel breaks off and falls into the water with a huge splash, crushing the people below it.

I reach out as we slide past the rope, and I grab it with my uncut hand. We come to an abrupt halt, him hanging from my bloody wrist.

“Sam,” he says, his eyes pleading with me.

I hold on to his wrist. “Break the spell, Matt! Stop all this!”

“No.” His voice sounds smaller.

He’s losing his grip on my slippery blood-soaked arm. His fingers slide down inch by inch. Even in the dark, I can make out the fear in his eyes. He falls.

“Saman—” he yells as the ship becomes vertical. But before he completes my name, he ricochets off a wall and slams into a pointed corner of railing. The sound of his bones cracking on metal fills my awareness.

I press my forehead into the rope and clench my body tightly around it. The loss of blood and the chase have robbed me of my strength. I slip down, bit by bit. Pain radiates through my icy skin. As the ship sinks faster and faster, the water rises steadily to meet me. Matt has disappeared beneath its bubbling surface.

The black water grabs at my legs like a million frozen teeth. I suck in air and down I go, still holding my rope. The water swirls around me in a whirlpool of suction. There is pressure on my ears. Down and down into a cold muffled world.

I let go and kick with everything I have. My blood mixes with the water, pulling heat from me faster than before. And everything is quiet—the screaming on the deck gone, the sounds of the dying blotted out. My lungs ache with desperation.Dad.I kick harder.Elijah.The darkness continues.

I want to take a breath. I have to.Please.Above me the darkness fades to gray. My lungs burn. From dark gray to medium gray.Is that light?

Each second rings out in pain.

I catapult into the lighter water, my body screaming at me to give in and stop struggling. A face appears, murky and getting closer.Matt!His arms reach out for me. His eyes are huge, and his mouth is open as he sucks in water. His fingers grab at me and he inhales. I push his hands away. His fingers go limp and his wide eyes stare—

My dad leans over me. “She’s awake! Sam? Can you hear me?”

It smells like freshly baked cookies, and the ground is hard beneath my back. I stare up at the stone counters of Mrs. Meriwether’s kitchen. Someone is crying in the background.Mary?

“Sam? Sam? Can you talk?” my dad pleads.

“Dad?” My voice is desperate. And there’s pain. My limbs feel like blocks of ice.

Alice holds a cloth over my arm and is pressing down on it with both hands. There is blood all over her fingers.

Mrs. Meriwether kneels down next to me. “It’s sterilized,” she says, holding a needle. Alice lifts up the cloth, and as the needle heads for my skin, my vision blurs.

Isquint in the dim light, trying to make sense of the furniture shapes.My bedroom?My temples pound like I have the worst hangover in the universe. And everything aches.

“Sam?” my dad says. He sits on my vanity chair right next to my bed.

“Dad?” My voice is scratchy and low.

Tension releases his shoulders. I rub my eyes and wince. My left arm hurts like hell. There’s a big bandage wrapped around it. I sit straight up.

He catches my shoulders. “Whoa, take it easy.”

“Dad, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Me? You barely make it out of some spell ship alive and you want to know how I am?” He shakes his head. “Sam—”