Scar Island(52)

He struck another one and held it to the wick. Eventually, he told himself, the flames would dry the wick. And then it would light. He had to believe that.

He didn’t have time to wait. Colin could already be underwater. If he wasn’t yet, he would be soon. He stepped cautiously forward, his eyes darting from his feet to the flame and wick in his hands.

The second match burned down. He held it until it singed his fingertips, then stopped to light another.

On the fourth match, the wick lit. Weakly at first, a bare little blue ball of flame clinging to the candle’s tip. Then it grew and strengthened and stretched into a tall, bright finger of flame. He held his hand in front of it to keep it from blowing out and sped his steps to a jog.

The path came back to him. A familiar corner passed, then a stairwell he was pretty sure he remembered climbing up, then a twisting little passageway he was almost certain they’d filed through. He was close.

He dropped down a short staircase and stopped.

The water was here. Up to his knees. And he was pretty sure that Colin’s room was another staircase lower. Up ahead, he heard a waterfall. No, he thought, not a waterfall. The sound of freezing water pouring down a stone staircase. He ran toward the sound, the deepening water pushing back at him.

“Colin!” he screamed. “Colin! Can you hear me?”

“Jonathan?”

Jonathan almost collapsed in relief when he heard the familiar voice answer him.

“Hurry! I’m almotht under!”

Jonathan ran to the staircase. Water was gushing over the edge, bubbling and frothing. He leapt down the stairs, pushed along by the river of water, and came to a splashing stop at the bottom, his head going under but his arm stretched high to keep the candle out of the water.

He quickly got his footing. The water came up to his waist.

Colin’s head and neck were all that stuck up above the water. His eyes were wide and terrified. The water was rising fast enough to see it; even as Jonathan stood there, frozen with fear, it rose and lapped at Colin’s chin.

“Untie me!” he begged, his voice high and panicked. “Hurry! Pleath!”

Jonathan hurried over, the water sloshing around his belly button. The ropes were underwater. He looked at his candle, then into Colin’s eyes.

“We’re gonna have to get out of here in the dark,” he said.

Colin was stretching his neck up, the water now splashing against his mouth.

“Fine!” he gurgled. “Hurry!”

Jonathan dropped the candle and matches. The room was plunged into darkness.

His fingers fumbled under the water. They were cold and stiff. He found the ropes and pulled at them, jerking and tugging. They were tight and wet, swollen even tighter by the water. He worked his fingers into one of the loops and managed to pull it loose. He began tugging at another loop.

“Hurry u—” Colin started to beg, before his words were cut off by a wet gurgle.

“Colin?”

There was no answer, except a frantic moaning. Jonathan lifted one hand and felt in the darkness for Colin’s face. The water was above his mouth now. His head was tilted back so that his nose just barely rose above the waterline.

Jonathan yanked and wrestled frantically with the knots. There was a surge of water. He felt the water level rise suddenly, up to his stooped shoulder. Colin’s moans grew more desperate, but quieter. Jonathan felt with his hand again.

The water had risen over Colin’s face.

He let go of the ropes and wrapped his arms around Colin’s bound body. With all his strength he lifted him, chair and all, above the water. He heard Colin gasp and cough. The water was still rising. It was to Jonathan’s ribs now.

“I’m gonna have to put you back down now,” he said. “Take a deep breath.” Colin sucked in a great gasping breath. Jonathan dropped him and reached for the ropes. Colin’s whole head was underwater, and the ropes were too deep for Jonathan to reach without going under himself. He gulped a huge lungful of air and ducked beneath the surface.

He loosened another loop. Then another. He pulled a long stretch of rope through. The rope was mostly slack now, with one stubborn knot left tight against Colin’s wrists. He pulled and tugged and got one loop loose before he ran out of air. He could feel Colin kicking and fighting in the water. Jonathan wrapped his arms around Colin and picked him up again.

They both panted and gasped and choked. The water was to Jonathan’s shoulders.

“This is it,” he said. “I’ll get it this time.”

“You have to,” Colin sputtered.

“I will.” Jonathan readied himself for another drop into the water.

“Jonathan!” Colin said quickly, stopping him. “If you can’t get it, jutht go. You can make it out yourthelf.”

Jonathan took a couple more heaving breaths.

“Shut up, Colin. And take a deep breath.”

They dropped together beneath the surface.





The ropes were stubborn. The water was cold, and dark, and determined. Colin fought and thrashed against his ties. His closed-mouth screaming rang dull and frantic under the black water.

Jonathan’s fingers and arms burned with exhaustion. His lungs screamed for air.

He felt the burning in his arms and gritted his teeth. His lungs begged him to swim to the surface, to air, but he held tight to the ropes and worked at the knots.