Unseen Messages(155)

Pippa could barely speak. Tears tracked down her face, horror consuming her completely. “Co. He...he...he’s hurt.”

Galloway charged inside, twigs and leaves sticking in his long hair, the Swiss Army knife clenched in his hand. “What? What is it?”

Taking Pippa’s hand, I shoved past him. “Conner. We’ve got to go.”

Together, we sprinted faster than we’d ever ran before to the water’s edge where Conner lay in the shallows on his back. The tide licked around him, almost as if soothing whatever had hurt him. Apologetic. Sympathetic.

I hated the water for touching him.

I despised whatever had hurt him.

Slamming to his knees, Galloway scooped Conner’s head into his lap, slapping his cheeks. “Conner, open your eyes, mate.”

I took his left hand while Pippa took his right. We all kneeled before him as if he were the alter accepting our final prayers.

No!

This couldn’t be happening.

The aura of dying wasn’t real. The stench of agony wasn’t true.

This isn’t happening!

Galloway tapped Co’s cheeks again, rousing him. “Conner. Come on. Open your eyes.”

Conner groaned; his face scrunched tight from pain. “I—can’t—breathe.”

“Co, no.” Pippa sobbed. “I’ll breathe for you.”

“Wo—won’t work, Pip...”

Terrible despair lashed her. “Come on. Don’t be a jerk.” Swatting at her tears, she bowed as if to give him mouth to mouth. “You’re fine, you’ll see.”

“Pip, don’t.” I held her back. I couldn’t fix him if she was in my line of sight. What did this? What happened?

There was no blood. No bite.

What dared hurt my son?

And that was when I saw it.

The spine, the deadly quill, the poisonous barb I’d hoped never to see again. But this time...it wasn’t a minor graze on his instep but a full quiver pinpricking his heart.

A stonefish.

He’d been so careful. He fished with flip-flops. He did his best to stay where it was safe.

My hands flew up to cover my face as hiccupping horror fell from my lips.

Galloway’s eyes wrenched to mine, dancing over my frozen features then to the death sentence on Conner’s chest.

“Shit.” He turned white. His hands fumbled on the spines of venom, ripping them from Conner’s flesh as if they were grenades about to detonate.

But it was too late.

The damage had already been done.

Last time, Conner had cheated extermination. This time...necrosis had won.

This can’t be real.

It can’t!

My shoulders trembled as I swallowed sob after sob.

No amount of hot water and poultices would save him this time.

Galloway shifted, laying Conner’s head on the wet sand and moving to his side. Weaving large hands together, he placed them over Conner’s heart, ready to palpitate him back to living, ready to resuscitate and revive and reverse the horrible, horrible catastrophe.

Conner grimaced, his lips dark blue, his eyes shot red. His fingers spasmed with toxins, clawing at his throat as his body succumbed to anaphylactic shock.

He suffocated.

Right before us.

“Conner, no!” Pippa blew air into his mouth as Galloway started CPR.

Shock turned me into a mute statue witnessing Galloway’s long hair wafting around his face with every compression, Pippa’s white cheeks as she exhaled into her brother’s mouth, and the warm tide never ceasing in its caresses.

A stonefish was fatal in high doses. I doubted anyone had had a larger dose.

I have to do something.

Anything.

But I knew, better than them, better than Conner, that there was nothing.

Even if we had an antidote and ambulance, there was nothing anyone could do.

The Grim Reaper had finally visited.

For three years, we’d survived together without loss. We’d laughed, cried, kept our diet varied, and fought our illnesses with strength. We ignored every statistic saying a crash landing like ours would ensure another death before long.

This wasn’t fate.

This was destiny.

It had finally found us.

To claim a life far too young.

Conner met my eyes, seawater tracking down his cheeks. “Stel—”

I captured his spasmodic fingers, bringing them to my lips. While my husband and daughter fought to keep him alive, I offered solitude and safe harbour as he slipped.

Slipped and slipped, faded and faded.

“I love you, Conner,” I whispered. “So, so much.”

He couldn’t reply but his gaze burned brown with bravery. Reaching out, I touched Pippa’s shoulder, creating a connected triangle between us. “Shush, it’s okay, Pippi. I’ve got you.”

The moment my hand landed on her skin, Pippa dissolved. Her spine rolled and tears pried from her soul. My touch blared the truth; truth she didn’t want to believe.

He’s leaving us.

She collapsed into gut-wrenching sobs. “No. No!” Her fingers looped with Conner’s as she chanted over and over, “Don’t go to sleep, Co. Please, please don’t go to sleep. I can’t make it without you.”

My own tears made everything a water-world as I held my two children and gave into the heart-cramping, soul-tearing knowledge that we knocked on demise’s door.