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First there was the terror of the freefall through the air.
Then there was the shock as I plunged into the sea, and cool water rushed over my head.
I didn’t mean to, but I opened my eyes. In the clear blue Caribbean waters, I could see everything, even if it was fuzzy and the saltwater stung my eyes. The splintered hull of the yacht looked like the broken ribs of a giant whale. The rear half of the boat was already in the water, and the rest was sinking fast.
A second later, Connor jumped in the water next to me, a thousand silver bubbles trailing all around him. It was all so calm, so peaceful, like some underwater fairytale kingdom.
Then he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me along with him.
We broke the surface and swam to meet Johnny about forty feet from the ship. He still had a pistol he was keeping above water.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“In case anybody makes it out alive,” Johnny said, “and has a problem with us making it out alive.”
A chill ran along my spine when he said that – but I needn’t have worried. We watched until the very tip of the yacht’s bow finally disappeared beneath the waves… but no one besides the three of us ever came to the surface.
