Chapter 132: The attack...II
Charis
I wanted to shout out to him to pass me the keys to my chains and the door, but I was still in a daze. The van had landed upright, which meant the water was rising from the floor up.
Already, it was over my ankles, and the cold seeped into my bones, even though I was in the prison-issued boots.
I tried to stand, but the chains around my legs made it impossible for me to do so. The chain connecting my wrists to my waist meant I couldn’t raise my hands above my chest. I was trapped.
The realisation seemed to trigger an urgency inside me.
"Help!" I screamed, hoping Baird would hear me. The river was black, and the fog didn’t help matters because everywhere was cloudy, and I couldn’t even see myself.
Also, Widow Bridge wasn’t used all the time, so the area was always quiet; I wouldn’t expect a car to pass by anytime soon. Plus, if anyone had survived on the bridge above, they wouldn’t reach us in time.
The water rose to my knees, then to my thighs. The anklets were getting heavier, and every time I moved, it seemed to increase the motion of the water rushing into the car.
I tried to remember where the entrance of the cage was; perhaps if I pushed at it from inside, the pressure of the water would make it open. I tried to move, then realised I was chained to an iron hook on the floor of the van.
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t even risk that now. The cold was too much, so much that it burned my chest. The current outside was rocking the van gently, as if the river was trying to lull us to sleep.
I pressed my face to the small window compartments, trying to see if Baird was still there. If there was a way I could grab the keys, if there was any hope at all.
But the front compartment was filling faster than mine, and I made out the silhouette of a man slumped forward with blood streaming from a head wound, hanging motionless on the wheel of the vehicle.
A sob escaped my lips, but I pressed them together; this was no time to panic.
"Baird!" I called out tentatively. "Please, if you can hear me, can you tell me where the keys are? I promise, if I can get out of here, I’ll save you, and I won’t run. Please tell me, I beg you."
There was no response.
Water was at my waist now. The van was settling deeper, and I could feel the current trying to push us downstream. How deep was the water here?
Deep enough that we’d never be found, ever.
I laughed, leaning back to the bench. The universe is my karma. I’d chosen death over dishonour, and apparently, it decided to take me up on the offer.
The water reached my chest, and the panic I was trying to suppress broke through my resignation. I thrashed against the chains, ignoring the way the metal cut into my wrists and ankles.
There had to be something, a weakness in the chain, a way to slip free, anything.
But whoever had designed these had done their job well. The more I struggled, the tighter they seemed to become.
Rhyme, I think. Rhyme, please—
The water was at my neck now. I tilted my head back, gasping for air in the shrinking pocket of space near the ceiling. The van groaned around me as the river claimed it. I could feel the metal buckling under the pressure.
The water doesn’t care whether I am special or not. That I might be a Direwolf, instead of a Shadewolf, everyone thought I was. That someone promised to give me a new life, or that three boys kissed me like I was the air they needed.
No! The water only cares that I am in it.
Baird’s face drifts up beside me. His eyes are open and he looks surprised. I stared at him from my cage, waiting for the hatred to come, but nothing happened. I just want to go home.
Home.
To the kitchen in Crestborne, where my mom and I would quietly make dinner each night. To my father’s heavy air of disapproval and my mom’s subdued answers. To the warmth in Slater’s eyes, the morning after we consummated our bond, to Rhett’s terrible jokes and shameless kisses.
To Kael asleep at his desk, and the way he had grabbed me and held me close to him until I could feel his heart beating. To my mother’s hands in my hair. To snippets of memories of Caden and how anytime I smell syrup and rain, I’m reminded of him.
My father’s voice filtered through my thoughts: Everything about you is an accident.
My lungs seized. The ache in my chest grows numb, and I can hear my ears buzzing with pressure that sounds like a ringing bell. The cold had spread to every part of my body.
I pressed my forehead to the partition and closed my eyes as the water covered my head, as the world went dark.
I stopped fighting. There was no point anymore.
The Blackwater River had claimed another victim, and this time, it was me.
"I’m sorry," I think to no one in particular. "I wanted—"
Just as darkness teased at the edge of my vision, I remembered that I didn’t even get a chance to reject the boys properly, especially Kael, whose mark I now bear.
"I’m sorry, Rhett," I thought as my consciousness faded. "I’m so sorry, Slater."
"I, Charis Greye, reject you..." I sputtered in my mind, "Kael Winters."
At least, now he would be happy. I hope they cry for me. I hope Rhett stays alive, and I hope Slater finds peace.
A tear seeped from the corner of my eyes, mingling with the river water and in that tiny moment, I wished I’d never left home.
Maybe marrying Darian would have been my redemption. I wouldn’t have ended up buried in an unmarked grave under a river.
Then I would never have met Slater or Kael or Rhett, and my life would have been normal, and I could have avoided death.