Summer by Summer by Heather Burch Page B

is that?”
    “Maybe thirty feet.” Bray was busy examining the area around us, so I tore my gaze from the boat. Not far away I saw a cooler, upside down and caught between two rocks. Bray offered me a hand and together we made our way to it. “Good thing we went back for it, huh?” He grinned.
    I nodded and refused the voice in my head that reminded me a cooler was of little good with nothing to put in it. “Bray, over there.” A few feet beyond the cooler, something bright green caught my attention. Bray got to it quickly, sailing over the rocks like a pro. He held up the mask and snorkel.
    I nodded, enthusiastic because it felt like we were making progress.
    Bray sat down and unlaced his tennis shoes.
    “What are you doing?”
    He folded the strap back and held the mask to his face to see if it fit him. He’d done the same thing with me when I was doing my dive lesson. Breathing in a bit of air caused the mask to remain attached when he removed his hands. No leaks. The first threads of panic started weaving through my system. I grabbed his arm. It was warm and strong beneath my fingers. “Bray, what are you doing?”
    He nodded toward the boat. “I need to go down and see if I can salvage anything from it.”
    That’s what I was afraid of. “You said it’s thirty feet down.”
    “Maybe. Maybe less.”
    The thought of him entering the water and leaving me alone caused my chest to squeeze. My head shook from side to side. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. We need to stay together.”
    “Summer, there’s an emergency kit on the boat, there may be water. My throat’s raw from being thirsty. Yours has to be too. We can’t survive without water. And my dive knife is inside one of the compartments. We may need those things if we aren’t rescued right away.”
    Not rescued? That was inconceivable. We had an entire island to check out. Surely someone lived here and there would be people searching for us. “Let’s put you in the water as a last resort, ’kay? I mean, the boat’s not going anywhere.”
    He stopped. “See that dark water?”
    Of course I did; the back of the boat disappeared into it.
    “The boat is on a sandbar. The waves could drag it right off the edge at any time. This may be our only chance to salvage anything from it.”
    I bit my cracked lip, knowing he had to go. And I knew that his leaving meant I’d be alone. That thought terrified me. “Okay.”
    “I promise I’ll be right back.”
    And I believed him.
    Bray glanced up at the sky. “I’d say I’ve got a good two or three hours before dusk. We must have been asleep half the day. Be back in a sec.”
    It was eerily quiet with Bray beneath the surface. I counted the seconds as I watched his strong body, now blurred by the water, dive deeper and deeper. Going farther and farther away from me. I was no stranger to fear, but I couldn’t seem to stop my racing heart as the image of Bray disappeared as he reached the back of the boat. I jumped to my feet, hands covering my mouth as if the scream wasright there, just waiting to come out. Unable to see him, I squeezed my eyes shut and did the only thing with the power to hold me together. I prayed. When I opened my eyes, I could see him again, now at the edge of the boat. He came back up quickly, using the railing as a springboard. When he breached the surface, I released the breath I’d been holding. That was the first real prayer I’d prayed in a year. Where anger had once caused me to run away from God, desperation was drawing me to Him.
    Bray swam to me. “Okay, I may have to make several trips down, but it’s not beyond my reach.” He was already out of breath. I didn’t think he could do it several more times. His mask had fogged over a bit. He spit in it and smeared the spit around. I’d seen Cory do the same thing. Cheaper than No-Fog, Cory had told me. At the time I’d thought it was really disgusting. Now, I appreciated the fact we were equipped with a natural