Page 51 of Someone in the Water
My head reaches the surface. Still struggling for breath, I throw one arm out wildly, then the other. I kick my legs chaotically, but finally they gain some purchase, and I start to move. To escape.
The waves are bigger now, the darkness closer. My lungs scream in agony, but I don’t stop. I stare at the beach, focus on my only goal. Finally, my fingertips brush against sand. I pull my legs up and try to stand, but I’m shaking. I fall over, then right myself, and stagger to the shore. My heart is pumping like a jackhammer. But I’ve escaped, survived!
Izzy.
The thought smacks me in the face. Izzy is still in the water.
‘Izzy!’ I scream into the darkness. I whip my head left and right. Shit, where is everyone? I try to run back into the water, but I can’t do it. The fear is like a forcefield, holding me back, my toes disappearing into the wet sand. Izzy is in danger, and I’m too scared to help her. The dream comes rushing in. The deer bleeding to death. Izzy’s face.
What have I done?
‘Frankie? Are you okay?’ Dom appears, his curly hair dripping seawater.
‘Where’s Izzy?!’ I scream.
‘I … I don’t know. Is she in trouble?’ Dom’s face twists as he tries to make sense of what I’m saying.
‘Can you see her?!’
Dom scans the water, then a beat later, he starts running towards the water, his arms pumping as the emergency sinks in. ‘Izzy!’ he shouts, splashing and smacking into the waves.
I sense someone behind me and twist around. Harriet.
‘What’s going on?’ she asks. ‘Why is Dom calling for Izzy?’
‘We went swimming,’ I say, my voice cracking. ‘I don’t know where she is!’
‘Fuck, really?’ Harriet says, her eyes widening. ‘Why aren’t you in there looking for her?’ She unzips her denim skirt. ‘Are you coming?’
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
‘Fucking hell, Frankie,’ Harriet hisses. ‘You’re a shit friend!’ She charges into the water, her strong arms whipping through the waves. My knees buckle and I drop to the ground. Why haven’t I told them about the hand grabbing my foot? How close I came to drowning myself?
My body sways. Did that even happen?
A strangled cry rises up in the distance, followed by the smack of limbs on water. I push to standing, then watch as my friends surge back towards the beach. Dom, Harriet.
And Raphael. Carrying Izzy.
Where did he come from? How did I not notice him running into the water?
He lays her on the sand, turns to the others. ‘Appelez les secours!Call 112 someone!’
Harriet runs back up the beach. I imagine her scrabbling for her phone – the only one of us to have a mobile that works out here. But I don’t turn to look. My body is rigid, staring at Izzy. Her eyes are open, but glassy. Her head has dropped to one side. I watch Raphael pump at her chest, breathe into her mouth. I listen to him call Izzy’s name, then cry out in frustration when she remains lifeless.
I turn away. And Jack’s there, standing a couple of metres behind me.
‘Is she … Is she dead?’ he asks.
I squint. Why is his hair wet? ‘Where have you been?’ I ask.
His expression hardens. ‘Why?’
I swallow. I want to scream at him, tell him what I know. But the memory of being pulled under the water, the sight of Izzy’s body jerking under Raphael’s desperate pumps, has stripped me of any bravery I might once have had. ‘I don’t know,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t know if she’s dead.’
But in my heart, I do know.
Frankie
