Becca moved as if in a dream.
She felt herself falling down, yet she hit the floor faster than she thought it was coming.
Voices slurred around her like soup.
Kirk’s head danced around hers, his mouth open in a vomiting position, like he was coughing something up. His b****y hands were clamped on the small gash in her arm. Her wound sizzled like lightning.
Her feet tingled, then her arms.
Something passed through her—no, entered her—through every inch of her skin.
Her body went ice cold, then burning hot.
She couldn’t move her arms, and the feeling of paralysis freaked her out.
Her thoughts echoed through her skull until her voice doubled on itself, hard to understand.
Once, when she was six, she had almost drowned. Her mother took her to a pool party, and Becca, having just watch
