Page 85 of Not Today, Satan
“I’ll take that into consideration.” I bounce on my toes in front of the door. “Can we go? We’ve wasted enough time.”
The so-called half-hour drive takes upward of an hour.
When I’m not staring out the window searching for Nate, I’m glaring at the lighted clock inside the car, willing it to slow.
Please don’t let us be too late.
The moment I spot the curving blue-and-whitesanta monica piersign, I reach for the door handle, but my mother grabs my knee. “Devica, I have to park first. Don’t jump out of a moving car.”
“Fine.” I blow out a stream of air that flicks at my bangs. “Freaking Earth rules.”
Even though the clock in the car shows nine thirty a.m., there are already masses of people cramming the beach. We stumble along wooden planks my mother calls a “boardwalk” covering the sand, weaving around the barely clad humans walking excited animals on leashes or running or talking into their rectangles.
I scan the beach, shading my eyes with my hand, and my breath quickens.
The water is as blue as Nate promised and as ominous as I’d feared. It stretches to the horizon and beyond, the surface a mosaic of blues and whites as it sways in the breeze. The sand glitters like gems beneath it. It’s both the most beautiful and most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.
Like the first time I met Nate.
My chest tightens. He should be here.
I never should’ve let him leave the park. I was sure I was doing him a favor, but all I did was condemn him to die alone. Again.
My mother wraps an arm around my shoulder. I move to shrug her off, but instead I close the gap between us. Her touch is new, yet somehow as comforting as my favorite cape I discarded in a lake.
“Devica, I’m sorry. I knew this would be a long shot. This is a huge beach. He could be anywhere.”
I kick at the sand, and it sprays the air before splattering at my feet. “It’s my fault. I let him go.”
“You were trying to protect him, and your father didn’t tell you what happens when someone breaks out of Hell.”
“I know. I wish—” I stop as my eyes land on a group of people surrounding something in the sand to our left. A man plows into my back, muttering under his breath before passing.
I forget how to breathe when the people break.
I’d know that black uniform anywhere. I spent my life surrounded by it. And I left my home cradling it in my arms.
Nate.
XLI.
I take off toward him, but my boots sink into the sand, and I topple onto the soft earth. Sand floods my mouth, choking me. My mother grabs my wrist and hauls me up as I cough up gritty pebbles.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I wipe my tongue with my sleeve. “Come on.”
The sand forces me to move in slow motion, and it takes forever to reach the crowd. Nate’s really overrated this sand thing. Not only is it impossible to walk in, but it tastes like crap, too.
I shove through the people, ignoring their protests. Nate’s on his back, his eyes closed, barely moving.
My legs give way, and I fall to my knees beside him.No. I can’t be too late. Please don’t let me be too late.
Damn sand.
He moans, and I let out a gasp, my heart skidding in my chest.
He’s okay. My mother was wrong. He’s not going anywhere.
