High Tide (9781481413824) (16 page)

S
tunned and dizzy, I dropped deeper and deeper into the water. I had hit with such a shock, I hadn't had time to suck in air. Now my lungs screamed for air.

I opened my eyes and saw only darkness. Kicking my legs, I rolled myself over. Squinting, I could see where the water grew lighter near the surface.

Frantic for air, I swam up, rising through the water as fast as I could.

I broke the surface with a gasp, then began to tread water, sucking in big breaths of air.

The sun sat on the horizon now. Its slanting rays shimmered across the waves, almost blinding me. Squinting against the glare, I spotted my yellow water scooter.

It lay on its side, its nose almost completely submerged in the water.

Get to it before it sinks, I thought. Maybe it still has enough life to get me back to the dock.

I took one stroke. Then I pulled up short, my heart suddenly pounding in fear as I heard a buzzing sound from behind me.

The buzzing grew louder.

Rose into a roar.

I spun around, narrowing my eyes against the sun.

And saw Ian, his hair flying behind him, eyes set, expression hard. Ian, speeding across the water on the blue water scooter.

Charging straight at me.

He's not going to stop! I knew. He's coming to kill me.

He didn't mean to kill Mitzi. That was an accident.

But this time . . .

The roar of the engine grew louder as Ian's scooter raced closer. I could see Ian's face clearly now, twisted with fear and anger.

I filled my lungs and dived under the water, pulling myself deeper and deeper to escape the charging machine.

Above me I heard the muffled roar of the scooter. Then the water suddenly surged, and I fought to keep it from lifting me up.

I stroked wildly, diving farther below the surface.

The noise of the scooter grew louder, then began to fade.

He had passed right over my head.

Close  . . . so close  . . .

But he had missed.

Go up now, I told myself. I couldn't stay down here anyway. I had to surface and make a try for the yellow scooter.

Twisting around, I began swimming up toward the surface. I couldn't hear the water scooter at all now.

Had Ian given up? Did he think he'd hit me? Did he think that I'd drowned?

I broke through the water and gulped some air. And gasped as the roar of the scooter filled my ears.

Spinning around, I saw the blue scooter slapping across the waves, racing straight toward me again.

I started to dive, then stopped myself. How many times could I dive down? Five times? Ten?

It didn't matter. Ian would always be waiting for me.

He'd play this deadly cat-and-mouse game until I didn't have any strength left.

And then he'd kill me.

He's almost on top of me! I thought. Do something.

Now!

As Ian sped closer and closer, I took a deep breath and ducked under the surface. Then, kicking as hard as I could, I shot out of the water, clamped my hands around Ian's leg, and yanked him off the water scooter.

The scooter roared by, but Ian flew through the air, his mouth open in surprise as he pitched into the water beside me.

He came up quickly, choking and coughing.

I kicked and began to swim, but he came after me, shouting in fury.

Grabbing hold of my ankle, he tried to pull me back. I kicked out, but his fingers squeezed tighter.

Still shouting furiously, he got both hands around my leg. Pulling, clawing, trying to drag me under.

As I desperately tried to kick free, a strong wave suddenly lifted us up.

Ian's hands lost their grip. I heard him shout, but I couldn't see him now.

The wave dropped, slapped me back down, and tumbled over me like a waterfall.

When I rose to the surface, choking on seawater, I saw Ian about twenty feet away from me.

And I saw his water scooter.

Saw it spin around. Saw it roar toward Ian.

“Nooooo!”

Ian let out a cry and began thrashing through the water, desperate to get out of its way.

But the scooter was moving too fast.

As I watched in horror, it roared across his frantically kicking legs. Even over the roar of the water scooter, I heard Ian's shrill shriek of pain.

As he sank below the surface, the water foamed red with blood.

I struck off in his direction, swimming as fast as I could. Glancing back once, I saw the blue water scooter racing away, tossed over the waves, getting smaller and smaller, until it disappeared from sight.

“Ohhhhhhh!” Ian bobbed up again, screaming, flailing at the bloody water with both hands. “Adam—please! Help me! Help me!”

Stroking hard, spitting out water, I swam up to him. I reached out and caught one of his arms.

“Adam!” he cried. “My leg! It broke my leg!”

I glanced down at Ian's leg. It was bent at an unnatural angle. I could see white bone sticking through the skin.

“Adam, I can't swim now. I'll drown!”

I took a deep breath. “No, you won't,” I told him. “I won't let you.”

Taking another deep breath, I slipped one arm
around his neck. With the other arm I began pulling us both through the water, back toward the shore.

• • •

As the ambulance pulled away from the dock, Joy took my hand and held it tightly. “Are you sure you're all right, Adam?”

I nodded, still stunned and exhausted.

“Ian is probably going to be okay,” Raina assured me. “I heard a couple of the paramedics talking. His leg is in bad shape, and he lost a lot of blood. But you saved him, Adam. You saved him.”

Yeah, I thought. I saved the guy who let me live a lie for a year. A year of total horror. He watched me, knowing what I went through.

Knowing what really happened last summer.

But I had to save him. No matter what, I couldn't let him die out there.

“You should go home now,” Joy said softly. “Get some rest. Want us to drive back with you?”

“Thanks, but I kind of want to be alone,” I said. “I need to think about things.”

I smiled at them both. “But listen, don't feel bad about the fake drowning anymore. It worked. Dr. Thall was right. It did help to shock my memory. It helped me figure out what really happened last summer. I'll see you tomorrow and explain it all, okay?”

Joy and Raina both gave me a hug. I watched them walk side by side away from the dock.

I trudged over the sand to my car, so tired I could hardly pick my feet up. As I stumbled along, two people stepped out from the shadows.

Sean and Alyce.

“Hey—I saw them taking Ian away,” Sean said. “What a mess! You okay?”

I nodded again. I didn't want to discuss Ian with him right now.

“Well, listen, I owe you one,” Sean went on. “I took your advice and talked to Alyce.”

Alyce smiled. “Sean acted almost human. I guess I have you to thank for that, Adam.”

“Hey—almost human? Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Sean griped.

He turned to me, and his expression changed. “You're probably right about me having to do something about my temper.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I'll go see your shrink. Couldn't hurt, right?”

“Right.” I had to smile. “Couldn't hurt.”

• • •

When I let myself into my apartment, a deep, rumbling noise almost made me jump. But I caught myself in time.

Relax, I thought. It's only the refrigerator. Nobody's in here. Nobody is out to get me anymore.

Nobody ever
was
out to get me.

Except Ian.

I crossed the room and collapsed onto the couch. Exhausted, I closed my eyes. Ian's face immediately flashed into my mind. Ian thrashing in the ocean. Eyes wide with fear and pain. Mouth open in a scream as he pleaded with me to help him. Not to let him drown.

And I didn't, I thought. I got him out. I brought him to shore.

If only he had told me the truth, I thought.

I tried to relax. Maybe I'll stop seeing things now. Maybe the nightmares are finally over too.

And then a figure floated silently into the room.

“L
eslie!” I cried. “Am I imagining you?”

She laughed. “No. I let myself in.”

Leslie gazed across the room at me with her serious gray eyes. She wore a short green dress and her dark hair curled around her face.

She looked great.

“I heard about Ian,” she told me. “Are you okay?”

I stood up and walked over to her. “Yes. I'm okay now,” I said. “But are you really here? I'm not imagining you, am I?”

Leslie didn't speak. She stepped up to meet me and kissed me softly on the lips.

“What do you think?” she asked, tilting her head. “Was that a real kiss? Or did you imagine it?”

I slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I don't really care,” I said. And I kissed her again.

“Where do you get your ideas?”

That's the question that R.L. Stine is asked most often. “I don't know where my ideas come from,” he says. “But I do know that I have a lot more scary stories in my mind that I can't wait to write.”

So far, he has written over a hundred mysteries and thrillers for young people, all of them bestsellers.

Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in an apartment near Central Park in New York City with his wife, Jane, and son, Matt.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.”

Simon Pulse

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright © 1997 by Parachute Press, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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