Jane took another step backward toward the sliding door. Nora still, even in the midst of insanity, prayed Jane would snap out of it. The axe grew heavier with each step Nora took. The adrenaline rush she’d felt was beginning to wane as she continued to swing the weapon from side to side. If she could get Jane out onto the deck, Nora hoped to lob the axe and throw Jane off-balance, so Nora could lock her out on the deck until the police arrived.
Just when Nora wasn’t sure she could hold the axe for a minute longer, Jane stepped back onto the deck, stumbling slightly, before righting herself. She straightened her spine, smiling at Nora as she pulled back, ready to throw the knife.
Nora had no choice but to do the same. She straightened. Every muscle in her body quivered as she held the axe up and over her shoulder, drawing back.
They both threw their weapons at the same time.
Nora was ready. As soon as she released the axe, she ducked, but the sharp tip of the knife hit her this time, slicing through her arm. Numb to the pain, she watched the axe glide through the air, in a perfect arc, heading right for Jane.
In a frantic attempt to get out of harm’s way, Jane scrambled backward, her eye on the axe as her legs bumped into a side table, before her backside hit the railing. The wood railing gave way, breaking and allowing gravity to pull her over the railing in a backward flip.
Nora had been rushing that way, ready to lock the door, when the axe hit a chair, bounced back, and hit the ground at the same time Jane flew over the side and disappeared.
Nora ran outside onto the deck, Hailey at her side as they peered over the broken railing where Jane had disappeared. Nora’s gaze roamed down the bluff and at the lake, where she saw nothing but shimmering water.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Trevor had never run so fast in his life. When he got to the cottage, he stopped and stared at the crackling flames, wondering if he was too late. And then he heard Grandma shouting for help.
The flames were about to overtake the entryway into the cottage. He pulled off his T-shirt and held it over his nose and mouth as he ran inside. He found Grandma with both hands grasped around Dad’s ankles as she struggled to drag him from the kitchen toward the entryway.
Grandma was pale and sweaty. She coughed.
“Get out!” Trevor said as he dropped his T-shirt and took hold of Dad’s legs. He yanked and pulled, trying not to breathe in the thick smoke. Suddenly someone was at his side. It was Gillian. She took one of Dad’s legs, and together they yanked and pulled him across the living room floor and out the door right at the same moment the earth vibrated beneath his feet and a loud explosion coming from inside flung Trevor and Gillian backward to the ground. A blast of heat came at them in waves as the cottage exploded. Debris flew in the air amid a string of loud booms, making his eardrums ring. The windows exploded, and both he and Gillian put their faces against the dirt and covered their heads. Shattered glass rained down around them. When Trevor thought the worst of it might be over, he sat up and watched a dark plume of smoke shoot up high above their heads.
Gillian began to crawl on all fours toward his dad.
Grandma was farther off, out of harm’s way. She gathered her breath, then joined Trevor as he made his way to Gillian’s side. The three of them dragged Dad across the dirt until he was far enough away from the burning structure. Gillian then slid a hand under Dad’s neck, leaned over him, and gave him mouth-to-mouth, while Grandma looked on, her face smeared with ash and tears.
“What happened, Grandma?” Trevor asked.
“Your dad was pulling himself out from under the sink, ready to test the disposal, when Jane showed up. She came out of nowhere and hit him over the head with a shovel. She looked right at me, a sneer on her lips, so I ran and locked myself in the bathroom. After her failed attempt to get the door open, she ran off. I didn’t come out until I smelled smoke.”
“Grandpa is on the pontoon,” Trevor said as he recalled seeing him on the boat.
“No,” Grandma said. “I sent him to the house.”
Dad suddenly sucked in air, gasping for breath.
Trevor hadn’t passed Grandpa on his way to the cottage. He didn’t bother arguing with Grandma. He jumped to his feet and took off running. He went around the side of the cottage that was still standing. The dock was on fire, so he ran down the dirt slope and stopped at the edge of the lake.
His worst fear came to life when he saw the canopy at the front end of the pontoon lit up in flames. Through a haze of smoke, he saw Grandpa at the back of the boat, standing on the outer edge. A gust of wind could easily push him into the water. He wasn’t wearing a life vest. He would drown.
Water lapped over Trevor’s feet where dirt and rocks met the lake’s edge. Trevor peered down into the dark and ominous water. He swore it was calling for him, hoping to finish him off once and for all. He blinked, and suddenly the lake became exactly what it was. A body of water. How many summers had he spent swimming in it, laughing and playing? Focused on what he needed to do, Trevor hurried into the lake, the cold water splashing around him until he was waist-deep.
And then he began to swim. One stroke and then another, his arms like windmills pushing him through the water. Swimming was like riding a bike. He could do this! By the time he reached the pontoon, he was out of breath and thankful to find Grandpa still there. The boat was old, not much more than a canopy and a flat piece of wood with a built-in seat that Grandpa and Dad had built years ago. He grabbed onto the edge of the wood surface and pulled himself up.
The fiery canopy came crashing to the wood floor of the boat. Trevor ran that way. He needed to grab the life jackets from inside the built-in seat. He stomped at the flames, and when he lifted the wooden top of the seat, he saw there was only one life jacket left. He looked back toward the edge of the lake and knew Grandpa could never make it that far without help. He ran back to Grandpa, slid his arms into the jacket’s armholes, then snapped the straps into place. He then ran to the side of the boat and detached the red-and-white emergency life preserver that hung on the side.
Back at Grandpa’s side, he said, “The boat is on fire, and we’re going to jump. Do you understand?”
Grandpa’s eyes had that dull, lifeless look that was slowly becoming familiar to Trevor.
“Are you ready?” Trevor asked, tugging at his arm.
Despite showing no emotion, Grandpa wouldn’t budge.
“If we don’t jump now, you’ll be late for work.”
“Okay,” Grandpa said. “I’m ready.”
Together, they jumped off the side of the fiery pontoon. Even with the life jacket on, Grandpa’s head dunked under the water, but he bobbed right back up. They both hung on to the red-and-white floatie. “Kick your feet,” Trevor said.
Grandpa began to kick, making Trevor feel proud. They could do this.
Trevor’s body jerked suddenly.
Had his foot gotten caught up on something floating in the water?
He looked over his shoulder and saw that it was a hand. Blonde hair floated at the top of the water, spread out like an octopus’s tentacles.
It was Jane. Her chin came up; her mouth opened as she sucked air into her lungs.
Trevor let go of the life preserver. If he hung on, he’d only hold Grandpa back. “Go, Grandpa! You’re doing great!” He tried to jerk his leg free from her grip, but it was no use. He used his other leg to kick at her head and shoulders, anything to get her away from him.