The Missing

understand, because you got the sight.

    But you’re strong. You can do it. And I’ll always be here, Rose had murmured to her, time and time again. True to her word, Rose always had been there, and Taige loved her dearly.

    “Oh, baby.” Rose pulled Taige in close, holding her tight. Taige breathed in the familiar scents of lotion and spice and fought the burn of tears in her eyes. She pulled back when Rose’s arms loosened and opened her mouth to say something.

    But the skin on her spine rippled. A cold chill danced along her flesh.

    Rose recognized the look, although Taige knew that her friend didn’t truly understand. As much as Rose meant to her, Taige wished desperately for her mother, for somebody who would understand the odd, disturbing dreams, the random visions, and the pressing need to act. It was imperative, as important to her as breathing, and although she might well pay dearly, she had to act.

    “I’ve got to go,” Taige said unnecessarily.

    She pushed the bowl into Rose’s hands and was out the door before Rose even managed to call out, “Be careful.”

    The door banged shut behind her, and Rose lifted her gaze to the heavens. “Lord, take care of that girl.”

    THE currents were strong.

    Cullen rode the boogie board through the waves, a grin splitting his face and exhilaration pulsing through him. He wasn’t ready to hit some of the big waves, but he could see why it would be such a thrill.

    There was nothing like the feel of it, the water moving around him, under him, almost like it was alive. He hit the shallows and immediately turned to head back out when something caught his attention: the little yellow inflatable boat, bobbing up and down in the waves, drifting farther and farther from the shore. A couple had brought it down with them, and they’d let their little boy play in it on the sand, and for a while, the dad had pulled the boy around in it in the shallow water.

    The sun shone down brightly, sparkling on the water, and Cullen squinted against the light as he stared at the yellow boat. The boy was there, and even at a distance, Cullen could see the stark terror on his face as the kid realized how far he was from the shore.

    “Hey!”

    He saw the boy about the same time the kid’s parents did, and all three of them hit the water. But the waves were rough and getting rougher. Cullen swam toward the raft, outdistancing the parents. He was a strong swimmer, but he was used to the pool at the Y, not the rough waters of the Gulf.

    In slow motion, he saw it as the wave came up, smacking the little boat the same way a kid might play with a tub toy. There was a high-pitched scream that ended abruptly as the boy went over into the water. Cullen was still too far away. He swam faster, pushing his body harder than he’d ever done before. He ducked under, trying to see the boy. Salt water stung his eyes. Nothing. He was aware that more people had joined him. He kept looking and looking until his lungs burned and he had to surface. He dove again and again. But the third time he came up, he knew he’d been too late. Others continued to dive, and he heard their voices, heard somebody crying, and knew it was the boy’s mom.

    “Shit.” Cullen didn’t know who had said it, but he echoed it wholeheartedly. His heart felt like a leaden weight, and he took a deep breath, prepared to go under again.

    She burst out of the water looking like a mermaid. Water dripped from her hair, her nose, her cheeks—and from the boy she held in her arms. The mermaid legend seemed even more apt as she looped an arm around the boy’s upper body and started to swim for shore.

    TOO many people, Taige thought. She didn’t fight the water, just let it carry her and the still child closer and closer to shore until she could put her feet down and walk through the sand. It dragged at her, slowing her down, when she knew she had to hurry.

    Hurry.

    Hurry.

    A distant echo in her mind, Taige knew the kid was fading away, that she almost hadn’t made it. Still might not. She dropped to the ground, the boy hitting the sand harder than she’d meant. Immediately, she bent over him and pinched his nose. She blew into his mouth. Stopped, checked to see if he was breathing. His pulse was there, but it was faint, and she administered rescue breathing again.

    Behind her, she heard somebody crying, felt somebody trying to grab her. “My baby, let me have my baby!”

    Taige turned her head and snarled.