Page 41 of Crashing Tides

Duncan asks after my phone. I tell him I’ve lost it. I’m pretty sure he’s already asked me that, but my head is pounding. I can’t exactly remember.

It doesn’t matter. We’ll find help soon.

Twenty minutes pass and no one drives by. I spot headlights between the town and Halea, but they never come closer. At my side, Duncan tenses whenever they appear.

Finally, finally a pair of headlights pass through town, emerging on the other side. Duncan waves, jumps up and down, then darts ahead. I catch him by the wrist, worried I’ll lose track of him. He doesn’t even try to escape.

“Hey!” he cries, waving his free arm as the car approaches. “Over here!”

It’s too far away.

But the car moves closer and closer, and I start to think that I might recognize it’s shape. Yup, I decide, as it continues toward us. I know that dented Subaru.

Jane.

I’m so overcome with gratitude that I could collapse. She realized I was missing. She came looking for me.

Fuck, I owe her so much.

The car pulls to a stop. “I knew it,” I say to nobody in particular, overjoyed that we’ve finally been rescued. “Oh my god, it’s her.”

Duncan shoots me a confused glance. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he looks betrayed.

The car door swings open. Jane’s voice rises over the clicking of a seatbelt. “You look terrible.”

She’s only halfway out of the car when I throw myself at her. “You came for me,” I cry, halfway between a wail and a groan.

“You idiot,” she mumbles, squeezing me tight, like she’s been worried, too.

Chapter

Thirteen

Jane insists we go to the hospital.

It’s a humiliating affair. There aren’t any towels or blankets in the car, and I’m too broad to fit into her coat, so I stroll into the emergency room in a glorified loincloth, hoping I look pathetic enough that nobody judges me.

Luckily, the hospital has towels on hand, and they shove them at us while we wait, dripping and mostly naked in the lobby. If Jane is embarrassed to be seen with us, she has the wherewithal to hide it.

I burrito myself in white and blue striped towels and moan, “Thank you,” into her shoulder. She pats me on the arm sympathetically.

Duncan goes back first, probably because he’s bleeding and because I told the staff I thought he had a head injury. I wait another thirty minutes, which is long enough for the cops to show up. They’re wildly unimpressed by my story.

“So you’re the one who toppled the ruin, huh?” one grumbles, looking me up and down.

“I just wanted to see it—” I begin. To my horror, hot tears spring to my eyes. I hurry to wipe them, but I already know it’s too late. My face is probably already tomato red and splotchy.

Officer Herrera, at least, is sympathetic. She nods as I bumble through an explanation. “I wasn’t climbing on the ruin,” I explain. “I just… My mom died recently, and I just… She really loved the ocean, and I wanted to see it,” I explain. I start crying again, but at least this lends some credence to my story. The lady cop looks like she wants to hug me. “I guess I shouldn’t have gotten so close to the ledge.”

The male cop, Officer Jones, is less convinced. “How did you two survive?”

“Duncan is a really strong swimmer,” I explain. “He got us to shore.”

“Sounds like you owe Duncan your life.”

I nod and cry some more.

“You don’t have a history? You weren’t fighting or anything, were you?”