The Brit

What is he doing?

“Come on!” Ringo bellows.

“Danny!” I scream, watching, my fear multiplying, as he joins Brad, both of them up to their waists in the sea, firing non-stop. I watch as man after man drop like flies on the beach, the air pierced by the sounds of gunshots and shouts, the dusky sky lit up.

Brad turns and starts back toward the boat, and my heart kicks when I see Danny following. I mentally will them to hurry, their progress hindered by the water around them. Come on. Come on. Come on.

Brad reaches the side of the boat first and starts to pull himself up with Ringo’s help. “Get Danny,” he orders, his words labored. “Just get him in the fucking boat.”

Ringo diverts his attention to Danny swimming toward us, leaning over the side, as Brad drops into the boat and reloads his gun. I watch as Danny gets closer and closer, it seeming to take forever, and when he’s only a few meters away, Brad starts firing again. “Hurry the fuck up, Danny,” he yells.

I lean over the boat too, and Danny locks eyes with me. He smiles. The sick fuck smiles as he reaches for Ringo’s hand. I can only shake my head at him, caught between despair and fury. I’m going to kill him. For being so reckless and stupid, I’m going to kill him. The light in his eyes is blinding, and my panic starts to ebb, his fingers brushing Ringo’s.

“Go!” Ringo yells, and Brad takes up position at the back of the boat by the engine, just as Ringo seizes Danny’s hand and yanks him up on a grunt.

I jump as the boat lurches forward. Danny’s eyes widen. Ringo curses, falling back to his arse, leaving Danny hanging off the side of the boat. “Fuck,” he spits, grappling to hold on.

“Danny!” Brad roars.

I dive forward and grab his arms, adrenalin fueling me. “Get back, Rose,” he yells, trying to shake me off. “You’ll fall in.”

“Fuck you.” I fight to help him up, try my hardest, but he’s too heavy. “Kick your legs!” I yell, finding his eyes.

He stares at me. Just stares. And he smiles again. And then the loudest bang erupts, and his body jerks, his smile falling. It takes me a few confused moments to realize what’s happening. Then Danny’s body becomes heavier, slipping from my grasp. “No,” I mumble, searching his blue eyes. This time, I find . . . nothing. No light. No ice. No smile. Nothing. “Danny?”

He starts to slip down the side of the boat, his eyes closing, and I grapple and fight to keep him up as the boat speeds away.

“Ringo!” I scream, holding on to him for dear life. “Ringo, he’s been hit again!”

But Ringo doesn’t answer me, his gun firing constantly. I look up, seeing a few jet skis in pursuit.

“Oh my God,” I breathe, realigning my focus on getting Danny into the boat. But he’s slipping. Slipping. Slipping.

His eyes are closed. His body limp. “Please, Danny.” I beg, but I lose my grip, and he slips away from me, dropping into the sea. “No!” I watch him getting further away from me. “Danny!” I scream, my heart tearing in two.

“Fuck, no!” Brad yells as I climb onto the side of the boat. “Rose, no!”

I’m yanked back and hit the floor hard. “I lost him,” I sob, crawling to my knees, looking out. “We need to go back, Brad.” A bullet hits the side of the boat, and I duck instinctively, covering my ears, the sounds unbearable. “We need to go back!”

“We’ll all be killed,” Brad shouts, and I break down, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Ringo curses, his body crashing down next to mine, his hand going to his shoulder, blood coating his fingers. “For fuck’s sake.” He looks at me. It’s a look I’ll never forget. Full of sadness. Of pity.

A wretched sob tumbles as I recklessly get to my knees and look back, searching for him, my eyes darting frantically across the dark water. And I see him. Floating. Just floating, face down. “No,” I whisper raggedly.

“Get us out of here,” Brad bellows, firing again taking out two of the jet skis.

My shout is carnal and raw and full of devastation, my body jolting as the boat hits the waves at high speed. But however much I’m being tossed around, my eyes remain steady and level, locked on Danny’s lifeless body, growing smaller and smaller. Until the sea eventually takes him.

And I can no longer see him.

But I will always see him.

I stare down at the razor blade in my hand. Release. I need a release. I need to control this pain. I rest the edge on my arm. Close my eyes. Breathe in. And exhale as I drag it through my skin. My entire being relaxes.