Gasp (Visions) - Lisa McMann Page 0,51

list and get life vests on them.

Finally we grab armloads of the remaining life preservers from the front deck and go back inside to try to find our victims and make sure they have them. We figure that most of the drowning victims are the people who were injured at the first impact, thinking they may be unable to get to a lifeboat. But none of our victims are where they were just minutes ago. Crew members are in sight, some sporting obvious injuries but helping people to the lifeboats anyway.

We split up. Rowan peels away from the group and heads to the first-class cabin, and from my list I spot the older couple with matching sweatshirts and rush over to them. The woman is lying on the deck and the man is on his hands and knees beside her, trying to stay in one place.

“Put this on,” I say near the man’s ear, indicating the life vest. “And then we’ll get you two out of here, okay?”

He’s in shock or something, and the woman just stares up at me. Her wrist is twisted at a strange angle, and she says her hip hurts and she can’t sit up or walk.

I put the life vest over her head and slide the belt around her back the best I can without hurting her, and I put her husband’s on him as well when it’s clear he’s unable to do it himself. And then I look for help.

“Ben!” I yell when I spot him. He turns and sees me. Soon he’s kneeling next to us. “She can’t walk. And he’s . . . not really responding to anything. What do we do?”

He looks around, his rain-soaked hair whipping and sticking to his face. “Ah. There’s one,” he says. He gets up and grabs a backboard from the wall and lays it on the deck next to the woman. “Help me lift her,” he says. “On three.”

We get the woman on the board and Ben straps her down. I spy my duffel bag and crawl over to it just as all lights except a few emergency ones go out. A cry goes up. Luckily, it’s not dark out yet, but the clouds are keeping any sunlight from shining in. I can still see, but not well. I grab the rope and sling it around my arm, and crawl back to Ben.

“You’re going to get this man on the lifeboat,” Ben says, “and then we’ll come back for her once it’s cleared out a bit and we can maneuver the board, okay? I see two of my people—I’ll be back.” He grabs his stack of life vests and goes.

I take the man by the arm and lead him to one of the lifeboat stations as the emergency alarm drills into my head over and over again.

When I turn around, I’m climbing uphill, and I realize that the ferry must be already starting to list to one side. Every few minutes I feel the ferry shudder, and I think the cars below us must be shifting as water pours in. I fight panic and strain my eyes trying to find the rest of my people. I don’t see any of them, but I catch a glimpse of Trey getting some of his people out.

“Jules!” Rowan screams from behind me, in the doorway to the first-class cabin. I turn and run over to her. “I got four of them out of here, but this guy . . .”

I look beyond her and see a man facedown on the conference table in a pool of blood and glass everywhere. “Oh my God,” I say. “Is he dead?”

“I think so. There’s glass stuck all in his head.”

“Let’s go—we’ll tell Ben. Lifeguards can probably tell if someone’s dead or not, right? I still need to find three of my people.”

“Which ones?”

“Brown-haired small man with blue-and-white pinstripe shirt. Twentysomething woman with big earrings and hair in a bun. Light-blond, rosy-cheeked middle-aged man in a red Windbreaker.”

“I saw Sawyer helping the woman with the earrings get into a lifeboat,” Rowan says, peering around. “Let’s check outside on the decks. They aren’t in here.”

The ferry shudders and tilts even more. We both instinctively drop to our hands and knees, slipping a little. A guy running past us totally biffs and falls over me. He gets up and keeps going, slipping and falling every few steps. Rowan looks at me. “We don’t have much time.”

We crawl at top speed to the outer deck.