Without warning, the bottom dropped away and Pia’s feet slid down an underwater slope covered with slimy silt. In the next instant, she was trying to tread water using one hand, holding her shoes and clothes over her head with the other. She tried to swim, holding her breath in the icy water. Almost immediately she felt her muscles begin to lose some of their function. She gasped for breath: now she was numb all over except for her face. Pia gave up holding her clothes over her head; she dropped her shoes and tried to swim a few strokes. She was able to move forward a little faster even though she felt like she was barely moving.

Eventually, her right foot touched a sandy bottom. She stood up with the water up to her neck and pushed toward the shore. She was shivering so much it was hard to hold her soaked clothes. Within a few feet, the water was back to waist-deep. The lighted house was about a hundred feet to her left. She tried to call out, but the loudest sound she could make was a whisper. She staggered; her legs weren’t hers. Finally she was out of the water, on a kind of point with the shoreline falling off on both the lake side and the cove side. But the route to the lighted house along the edge of the lake was blocked by large boulders, underbrush, and numerous trees. She’d have to reach the house via the road.

Pia found a path of sorts through the uneven ground, and she saw there was a long dark driveway from the road down to the house. She made her way toward the driveway so she could reach the road. There were sharp stones under her still totally numb feet, and she was carrying her dripping wet clothes. What would these people think? She reached the pavement and turned left. Walking was difficult, but the house was getting closer.

Then, behind her, she heard an approaching vehicle. How far away, she couldn’t tell. With mounting panic, she looked behind her into the darkness, and she could see the glow of approaching headlights. She had no time to hide, and she knew she wasn’t able to run. She tried to call out, but the feeble noise was drowned out as she was bathed in bright light. Maybe it was someone else, part of her brain was telling her. Shielding her dark-adapted, squinting eyes with her free hand, Pia stared back. The vehicle braked and came to a halt within inches of her near-naked, shivering body.

Please, please, please.

Pia’s heart sank. It was a van, a blue van.

Chapter 60.

60.

SWISS HOUSE INN
NEW JERSEY
MARCH 25, 2011, 10:09 P.M.