Page 125

And that’s when the truth sinks into my cells, infiltrating every part of me.

I died and was brought back to life.

Not by CPR. Not by a ventilator.

But byAmanita excandesco.

And before that, before they stuck that mycelia in my brain, I was dead.

I was dead for a long fucking time.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I mutter, my hand pressed against my mouth.

Wes takes that moment to lunge for me, but I’m quick, crying out as I instinctively slash at his arm with the knife.

He howls in pain, holding back his arm, blood pouring over his fingers, and I twist around to pick up the VHF. I press it down. “Mayday, Mayday! This isMithrandirat the Madrona Lodge. We’re in Klaskish Inlet and?—”

Wes yanks the radio out of my hand.

I quickly drop underneath the chart table, squeezing past him on my hands and knees, but then he’s on me, tackling me to the ground.

I roll over, kicking at him, getting him in the face, the crunch of bone as I break his nose. He lets out a yelp, and I scramble to my feet.

I look around the boat, trying to remember where he might have a weapon. I know he has a rifle somewhere and also a flare gun. I’m also not thinking clearly because deep down, I know shooting him with either a flare gun or a rifle is the wrong thing to do, but I’m so panicked, I have to get away from him by any means necessary.

He killed me once, and he can do it again.

And then what?

Keep operating on me, keep me on that table like Clayton, keep bringing me back to life?

Finally, I see the fire extinguisher in the corner and yank it off the wall.

Just as Wes is about to get to his feet, I bring it down on top of his head with a sickeningthud.

He drops to the ground, out cold.

I stand there and stare down at him, terror starting to shake through my body, my heart free falling in my chest.

Oh Jesus, what if I killed him?

What have I done?

“Wes?” I whisper.

I drop to my knees and feel for a pulse.

He still has one. And there’s no blood from where I hit him either.

More memories threaten to come forward. I welcome them, wanting to understand, but they dissolve instead, like snowflakes, my mind too rattled and panicked to process anything. But even though I don’t want him dead, I have to get away from here. From him. I have to get help.

The only place I can go is Madrona.

Everly brought me back to life, she’s not the one who killed me.

She’ll help me, right? Now that I know the truth, she’ll help me.

I step over Wes and grab the VHF radio again, putting in another Mayday, saying the captain has lost consciousness, giving the coordinates that are listed on the GPS console.