The water we move through is warm so I’m not cold at least, but the darkness is so complete, I can barely see my body inside it. My heart never slows, not because I’m in a heightened state of panic, but because at any moment, I expect something to shoot up from the deep and gobble me up. It’s not my ideal way of being gobbled. I can think of at least four other ways I’d like to be a Thanksgiving turkey. This ain’t it.

The first quarter of the distance goes by with nothing but the sounds of ocean waves and the distant party on Predator Point reaching our ears. We keep our movements slow and forceful to make sure we continue in the direction we need to go rather than drift out to sea with the current. It’s nothing crazy strong, and it lures me into this false sense of complacency.

Nothing dangerous here. We’re going to be fine. It’s all fine.

I repeat those words to myself like a mantra until my heart slows just a little. A silly move, really. Comfort is the villain of survival.

Moving my legs just like I’m supposed to, gently kicking, I swing my right leg forward and my foot runs into something. Whatever it is, it darts away the moment I kick it, its rough skin sliding along my foot just a little.

Like sandpaper.

I freeze and immediately stop kicking.

“Something just hit my foot,” I whisper, my chest filled with ice. I can hear the terror in my words, can see Row’s own panic appearing at mine as he looks down at the water. He can’t see anything. I know he can’t because I can’t.

“It was probably just a fish,” Creed says.

“No, it felt bigger—”

“It was just a fish,” Creed repeats forcefully, meeting my eyes. “That’s all.”

Shaking at the realization of what he’s saying, I start to nod, letting him convince me that it’s nothing, that I shouldn’t panic. “Just a fish. It was just a fish.”

Row is pale in the moonlight, his eyes wide and panicked as we move, but he keeps up the slow movements despite the sudden urgency that overcomes us. We’re running out of time and yet we can’t really move faster. It’s like we can see a door closing, have to get there before it closes and locks us inside forever, but we can’t gain speed, can’t throw ourselves forward. My mind unconsciously starts replaying the Jaws theme song over and over again in my mind.

That’s it. I’ve officially lost it. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Jiro curses suddenly, drawing my eyes over to him. “What is it?” I ask, trying to keep the panic from my tone but my voice comes out a little strangled. “What’s wrong?”