Sink With Me

“Red.” He coughs out the words, but what the bloody hell is it even supposed to mean? I know there’s red— there’s so fucking much of it.

“Stop fighting, just let me…” I rush out the words, but his hands clasp my face, forcing me to look at him. I see my eyes staring back at me, the same crooked grin despite the worry lines between his brows.

“Feed them to the sharks and move on Caspian.”

My father’s voice morphs into Moes screaming my name, thrashing within my grasp. It’s no longer my father’s body I’m cradling—it’s Moes I’m straddling. My grip tightens around his throat, blood lines my knuckles and stains the sand below him where my father once was. Why can’t I let go? He starts to shake his head, once red hair turns brown and grey eyes fade into bloodshot blue.

“Caspian.” she gasps.

Her face turns bright red, my vision hazes with tears that beg to spill.

“CASPIAN!”

The words echo out, but they ring louder than a dream. It’s not my father’s voice, it’s not Moes, it’s not my little sirens, but it’s familiar. I can smell subtle hints of spearmint and hear rushed steps around, but it’s so dark. Something pushes at my shoulder making my body shake. Why the fuck does everything feel so painful? My head is throbbing like I drank a fifth of whisky and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

“What is happening?”

“I don’t know, just get him up!”

“God damn it, you should’ve gotten someone sooner! What the hell were you thinking?”

“You two stop yelling. It’s not helping!”

Who the fuckin’ hell is bickering this early? Whoever it is, is about to be running laps around the base until they throw up. I groan while trying to sit upright but my body feels like lead weight sinking me further into the mattress.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” I try to sound stern but my throat is so dry it comes out hoarse. I sit up with a sway.

“Shit Tide, what did you take? Open your eyes!” It’s not the voice I want to hear. It’s not my siren calling for me. I pry my eyes open, and everything feels brighter than it should. “Come on, man.” Messy dirty blonde hair shakes, making me focus on dead eyes darting between mine.

“Cordelia.” My voice is low, demanding for her to respond to my call. I’m jerked back to Sam while Jasmine storms around the kitchen, and Moe stands in the doorway with a face I can’t pinpoint. The last time I saw that expression was when I told him about our father. It’s a raging storm in his eyes attached to a calm body.

“Where the fuck is she?” I’m not asking a question, it’s just pure panic. I stumble to stand, needing to kick whatever is coursing through me. The TV still hums a theme song assuring me she is real and was here.

“She was seen leaving base with the redhead and hasn’t come back.” Sam mumbles. I grasp at the counter, trying to hold myself steady but something’s wrong. Everything is too loud, each knock of pots under Jasmine’s hands rings in my ears and Moe’s motionless body looks as if it’s spinning around mine.

“Moe, get me some water.” I try to keep my voice as calm as I can, but I know it’s far from it. She’s not gone and if she is then she better be ready for whoever’s blood I have to spill to get her back. I move again but trip over an object pulling my attention to neatly placed untied boots by the island.

“She was barefoot.” I state. Rubbing my finger to my neck I notice how her mark bulges further out than usual. My breathing is shallow, refusing to let air fully into my lungs.

“She didn’t plan on leaving unless she was in a rush.” Moe finally speaks, shoving the bottle to my mouth and tilting it until I feel like a spitting, sputtering mess. I’m pissed at how he’s trying to drown me, but at least I’m proud to know he pays attention when I try to teach him things.

“She wasn’t in a rush.” Jasmine says nervously as she rises to stand her full height with an odd object pinched between her fingers. I snatch the bottle from Moe and continue to drink it with narrowed eyes on her. Jasmine never liked my shark. She’s lying. I try to catch her eye, but she just looks down which only infuriates me enough that I slam the empty water bottle against the counter.

“How would you know that?” I say through clenched teeth. In two very unstable strides I’m toe to toe with her, snatching the thin plastic vial from her hand. If I ever had a heart, it’s gone, sinking into the pit of my stomach where acid eats at it until it’s nothing.

She made me tea.

Bringing the tube to my nose, I inhale only to quickly pull it away from the way my throat starts to burn with a cough from the scent. Jasmine’s mouth opens but Sam cuts her off by throwing my tactical vest at the back of my head along with whatever clothes he just found. Ignoring the onslaught of fabric, I bring the tube in between mine and Jasmine’s eyesight. It hardly looks like anything was poured.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you want to find her or not? Because I’ll gladly go back to watching the monitors.” Sam’s threat is enough motivation to get me to throw on my clothes, snatching my boots from him and fumbling forward to slip them on improperly while following Moe out the door.

“What are you doing?” I call out behind him, but he ignores me. If he thinks he’ll be a part of this then he’s sadly mistaken. Jasmine’s steps hurry behind, distinguishable from how light they are against the floor compared to ours. I have no clue where we’re heading, but I’m not the one to be questioning things when I was dumb enough to let down my guard and get drugged. My little siren lured me into my demise.

Sam walks around the corner in front of us from the armory with a loaded tote. Thank God he’s always one step ahead since my head’s still spinning enough that I have to question when he left my line of sight. It’s not from the poison but the fact she could’ve killed me. Moe is ten feet ahead when we push through the bulletproof door, not nearly as affected by the light bit of rain sticking to his skin.

“She went that way.” Jasmine points in a general direction as we walk through the training grounds’ exit. Sam places a pistol in my hand along with a clip, where I quickly shove it into the holster. Each crash of waves against the sand does little to overbear the rush of blood in my ears. Jasmine tries to walk past me, but I pull her back by her arm. If she thinks for a second I’ll ever let her back near my girl again, she’s got another thing coming.

“How long ago?” I question and she swallows looking over my shoulder at Sam then back at me.