My thighs burn and I’m out of breath. “Sir!” I yell in his face. “Hang on to this!” He manages a nod.

I strike out for the nearest lifeboat with the other end of the rope, checking over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure he’s still there.

From here, the ferry looks huge and scary and completely misshapen as it sinks lower in the water, tilted at a strange, extreme angle. I can see the entire front deck, people crawling around trying to hang on. There’s still one lifeboat attached to the ferry and being loaded, and as I push through the water I spot Rowan, Ben, and a crew member lowering the older woman on the board into the lifeboat using their ropes.

And then I see Sawyer on the rear deck railing, the blond girl with the polka-dot headband riding on his back. She must be injured. They’re getting ready to jump. A wave of relief washes over me—she must be his last victim if he’s going over the side with her. Come on, Sawyer, I think. You can do this. I send him all the mental energy I can muster to help him get past his fear and jump to safety.

I check on my guy, who is still hanging on. “We’re almost there,” I call out to him, and wind up with another mouthful of water as the tumultuous waves surround me. I am quickly growing exhausted. It’s about all I can do right now to get to the lifeboat so the people in it can drag this man in. Finally I make it, and a woman grabs the rope from me and starts pulling. Others try to help me get in despite my protests, but the ferry groans and leans farther toward us, making everyone stop for a moment to stare.

And it keeps going, rolling slowly onto its side. “God in heaven,” I whisper. I gasp and choke on water as the contents of the car ferry appear to shift drastically, the front end sinking faster than the back. The ferry tilts quickly now, to sixty degrees or so. The crew loosens their hold on the swinging lifeboat, and it drops sickeningly fast to the water. A second later, almost everyone else remaining on the deck falls too. I look around frantically for Trey and Rowan and Ben and Sawyer as the falling bodies surface. The water is dotted with a dozen passengers.

A woman in the lifeboat tugs at me. “No, I’m fine,” I croak, not looking at her. “I’m going to help some of these people.”

I search for the ones without life vests on, but it looks like everybody on my team did a fantastic job of doling them out, which gives me a surge of hope. I spy Trey in the water helping someone get to a lifeboat, and then I see that it’s Rowan. My heart stops for a minute, but she is able to climb in on her own, so I think she’s okay. She must have actually listened to me. Trey signals to somebody. I follow his gaze, and I see Ben swimming far out to save someone. As I ride up the next wave, I look for Sawyer, but I don’t see him anywhere. “Sawyer!” I yell, but it’s useless, because everybody else is yelling for people too.

I grab the rope and strike out toward a floating passenger, knowing we’re still in a lot of danger. These people in the water don’t have wet suits on. Just because they’re not drowning at the moment doesn’t mean they’re safe. I sure as hell hope we’re not relying solely on Ben’s 911 call—there had to be others. Maybe somebody’s fancy underwater car alerted OnStar. And of course there’s the crew, who must have radioed for the Coast Guard. But I don’t see anybody coming to our rescue. Lightning streaks across the sky and I realize it’ll be totally dark soon.

I string two passengers together with the rope, and the woman in the lifeboat starts towing them in like a champ. Once I know they’re good, I whip my head around, looking for anybody else who needs help, and I see the girl with the polka-dot headband. She no longer has the glasses she was wearing on the ferry. I swim toward her and she’s just floating and crying, teeth chattering, in the water. “Come on,” I say to her. “I’ll help you.”

I reach my arm out and she grabs on.

“What’s your name?” I say. “I’m Jules.”

“Bridget,” she says. And then she mutters through her tears, “As in, I wish there was a road from here to land so we could bridge it.”

I can’t help but smile. My mom would say this girl’s got spunk.

I flip to my back and start kicking, pulling her with me, trying to get somewhere. But I’m losing steam. The rain pelts my face; it’s warmer than the water I’m in. “We’re headed for a lifeboat that has room for you. You doing all right?”

“I can’t find my family,” she says. “And I can’t see very well. I lost my glasses.”

I remember seeing her on board, and noting that the rest of her family was not on the victim list. “I’m sure they’re fine. I’m positive, okay? I mean it. Hundred percent.”

She nods, taking me at my word. “Okay.”

“Are you hurt?”

“My ankle. It hurts really bad. I can’t kick. That guy said it might be broken.”

That guy. “That guy who was with you when you jumped?”

“Yeah.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” she says, her teeth chattering uncontrollably now. “He told me my job was to fight through the pain and swim to the lifeboat. And then he dropped me over the edge.”

Sawyer, where the hell are you? My limbs are shaky and tired, and now that we’re almost done here, I’m feeling the edge of the cold. My feet and face are getting numb.

I pull the girl toward the nearest lifeboat, where Rowan is, but the boat just seems to be floating farther and farther away in the waves. “Ro!” I shout. “Rowan!”