Eureka sensed the waves crashing above them, but they were now fifteen feet below the surface, where the water was much calmer. She steered the shield in a circle, searching the surface for signs of Brooks or the boat. The twins wailed, terrified.
She had no idea how long the shield would last. If it burst or sank or disappeared, they’d be dead. Brooks would be able to make it back to the boat on his own, to sail it back to camp. She had to believe he would. If she didn’t believe, she could never allow herself to focus on getting the twins to safety. And she had to get the twins to safety.
She couldn’t see above water to determine which way to go, so she stayed still and watched the currents. There was an infamous chaotic riptide just south of Marsh Island. She would have to avoid that.
When the current pulled her in one direction, she knew to swim against it. Cautiously, she began to paddle. She would swim until the tides changed on the bay side of Marsh Island. From there, she hoped, the waves would move with her, carrying the three of them to shore in a smother of foam.
The twins didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe they knew she couldn’t answer them. After a few minutes of watching her strokes, they began to swim with her. They helped the shield move faster.
They swam through the gloom beneath the surface of the sea—past strange, bloated black fish, past rocks shaped like ribs, slick with moss and sludge. They found a rhythm—the twins paddled, then rested, while Eureka swam steadily on.
After what seemed like an hour, Eureka saw the submerged sandbar of Marsh Island, and she almost collapsed with relief. It meant they were going the right way. But they weren’t there yet. They had three miles to go. Swimming inside the shield was less taxing than swimming in open water, but three miles was a long way to travel with half-drowned four-year-old twins in tow.
After another hour of paddling, the bottom of the shield struck something. Sand. The ocean floor. The water was getting shallower. They had almost made it ashore. Eureka swam forward with renewed strength. At last they reached an uphill slope of sand. The water was shallow enough that a wave broke below the top of the shield.
When that happened, the shield popped like a soap bubble. It left no trace behind. Eureka and the twins shuddered back to gravity, touching the earth again. She was knee-deep in the water, hoisting them up as she stumbled through reeds and mud to the deserted Vermilion shore.
The sky was awash with thunderclouds. Lightning danced above the trees. The only signs of civilization were a sand-caked LSU T-shirt and a faded Coors Light can wedged into the mud.
She set the twins down on the edge of the beach. She fell onto the sand. William and Claire curled into balls on either side of her. They shivered. She covered them with her arms and rubbed their goose-bumped skin.
“Eureka?” William’s voice shook.
She could barely nod.
“Brooks is gone, isn’t he?”
When Eureka didn’t answer, William began to cry, and then Claire began to cry, and Eureka couldn’t think of anything to say to make them feel better. She was supposed to be strong for them, but she wasn’t strong. She was broken. She writhed on the sand, feeling a strange nausea enter her body. Her vision blurred, and an unfamiliar sensation coiled around her heart. She opened her mouth and struggled to breathe. For a moment, she thought she might cry.
That was when it started raining.
26
SHELTER