foot and pulled her off her ledge.
She screamed. Her fall was broken by Reggie himself, and as she landed on top of him she was already fighting and kicking, desperate to scramble to her feet, more terrified of the water than she was of him. Once upright, she got the gun out and aimed it at him with both hands, shaking badly. Water was pooling around her calves, knees, soaking her legs, freaking her out.
“Gonna shoot me, Sailor?” he yelled over the roar of the surf, and he was grinning at her, an awful grin. “Because I don’t think you’ve got any bullets left.”
She backed up, as much to get to higher ground as to get away from him. But he advanced, and she had no idea how many shots she’d fired at the car and whether he was right, or even whether the gun had gotten wet and if wet guns fired.
“Let’s find out,” she said and pulled the trigger.
Reggie was knocked back by the force of the shot, barely louder in her ear than the ocean. An incoming wave had thrown off her balance and ruined her aim, but his shoulder spouted blood.
He kept coming.
She pulled the trigger again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
She was out of ammo.
She backed up. But she was against the cliff already, so she moved to the right, away from Reggie, who was still coming for her. He was moving slowly, maybe because of his injury, the surf churning around him, and she moved faster, hugging the cliff wall. Then she glanced to the right and her heart sank. In fifty feet the cliff jutted out into the water. Deeper water. She couldn’t believe her own arrogance, escaping death once and now facing it once more because she couldn’t leave well enough alone, she had to try to save the world.
There was nowhere to go but up. She looked at the cliff face, treacherous and rocky and not at all climbable. Except...
Ten yards away there was an opening in the rocks, just above eye level. It was small, maybe too small for her to fit into, but maybe not.
She glanced back at Reggie, just visible in the rain, the very definition of madness, all bleeding shoulder and wild hair, trudging through the water, swaying with the surf.
She made her way toward the opening, climbing onto boulders, trying to get higher, closer. It was too much of a stretch. She looked around. To her left something stuck out of the cliff at a crazy angle, a piece of wood or rock, maybe a root. Whatever it was, she grabbed on to it. It held, allowing her to pull herself up and slip her foot through the opening, then her other leg and, with difficulty, her torso. At last she squeezed her shoulders in. A cave. A refuge. Above the sea. Above Reggie.
And now he was there, just below her. His face was ugly-scary as he reached toward the opening, crazy enough to think he could pull her out. She bit his hand. He screamed.
“You bitch!” he yelled, but he drew back. He stared at her, then out to sea. “All right,” he said, turning back to her. “You think you’re safe? Spring tide. Know what that is? It’s coming in fast. Coming right for you.” He was smiling.
She looked out at the water, raging and white-tipped, and realized she had no understanding of it, no knowledge of tides or waves, the habits of the sea.
“I’ll be waiting right up there,” he said, nodding back toward the steps. “I’m staying until you come out, and then I’ll grab you and hold you under. I’ll drown you like a cat.”
Then he was gone. And she was alone.
Panic engulfed her. She should have died when she had the chance, any other way, explosion, gun, anything but this, holding her breath, the ice-cold water on her skin, in her mouth, the salt consuming her, weighing her down, the heaviness of her clothes and shoes, the terror, and then the sea filling her lungs, burning them, bursting them apart, the lack of air, asphyxiation. The kind of death her nightmares were made of.
Declan! she screamed. Declan! She was calling his name as if he could hear, as if he could save her, like the deus ex machina of the Greek plays. She began to cry at the idea that she had thought he was the killer. Tears, so difficult for her to produce, spilled out of her now, her mind filled