Page 139 of The Last Session

I tried several more times, hardly stopping for breath, until white dots sparkled in my vision. Finally, I pulled myself back onto the ledge. At least my efforts had warmed me up; I was no longer shivering.

I tried to puzzle it out. Grace must’ve died on her way in here; otherwise she’d be on this ledge, wouldn’t she? I could only hope it had been quick.

Eventually, I dropped back into the water, using my hands and feet to feel all around in case there was another tunnel I’d missed. I gently moved the bodies with my foot, holding in a whimper. They were just bodies. Grace was long gone.

Back on the ledge, I cried some more, but I was so exhausted the sobs quickly subsided. A strange thought arose:What’s better to be trapped in, endless sand or constricted rock?It sounded like a riddle. I closed my eyes and saw the desert stretching out around me. Catherinewas beside me—her body, at least. She’d just died and I would soon follow.

Disturbed, I opened my eyes. I was back in the cold, wet darkness.

Closed: sun-razed desert.

I forced my eyes to stay open. There were colors, patterns in the darkness. I wondered if I could make myself pass out—by holding my breath or slamming the back of my head onto the rock. I needed oblivion. I needed not to be here. Panic was prickling at my arms and legs. I opened and closed my fists; my fingers had gone numb.

Calm down. You’re okay. You’re okay.

But that was the funny part: Iwasn’tokay. I was here, and it was my fault. I’d known something was wrong, and I’d stayed anyway. I could be in my bed in New York right now, cozily reading or watching something on my phone. Instead, I was trapped. And unless I could figure out a way to escape, I was going to die.

I slept and woke up in cycles. My teeth chattered. When my feet went numb I started doing clamshells on my side to get my blood flowing. When I was thirsty I lifted palmfuls of water from where it came out. When I was hungry I tried to ignore it.

I puzzled over Catherine’s words, trying to find clues.

It must’ve spit me out. I wasn’t the right one.

I was in there, and then suddenly I was with you.

How had it spit her out? Why wasn’t she able to fucking remember?

A fiery fury filled me. I screamed and slapped the rock walls and almost fell off the ledge. The anger drained quickly.

I couldn’t climb back out. I’d searched; there were no other exits. There was literally nothing I could do. The realization filled me with both bitterness and a strange kind of relief.

I was drifting back into sleep when I heard it: a soft hiss over the burbles of the water. I lifted myself on my elbow, grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. There was nothing there.

After a minute I put the flashlight back. I needed to conserve it.

But then the sound came again.

“What is that?” I said aloud.

A voice answered in my head:You know who I am.

The voice was low and resonant. I recognized it immediately.

Oh, okay, I responded mentally.Sure. You’re the snake spirit thing from the desert.

It was clear what was happening: some part of my psyche was coming up in this form, trying to comfort me. Well, why the hell not. It wasn’t like I had any better options. Maybe this tucked-away corner of my brain remembered something I didn’t.

Can you help me?I asked it.

Help you?

How did Catherine get out?

She was born.

The vague words frustrated me. Maybe this wouldn’t help.

Suddenly, the voice was outside of me, speaking directly into my ear and making me jump. “You are a priestess. You have more power than you know.” It paused. “Can you see it?”