Chapter 2 Deserted

Mollie

I shoved all my things into my giant magic backpack, including my makeup and clothes. I complained about that shit all the time, but when it came down to it, I was still a girl—and you never knew when you might need a scattered dress. Anything too wild, I left behind.

I picked up a picture—my only one. Paisley and I sitting at the bar. It was taken after my biggest performance, the club packed wall to wall, reopening night after renovations and all that. I wore my favorite red mini dress. I made sure to bring that one. Just in case.

The last thing I grabbed was my mother’s antique locket and her bright, optimistic red bandana—the only two things I had left of her. I missed her every day. I always wondered how different life would’ve been if she hadn’t been cursed with her sickness. I knew for damn sure I wouldn’t have spent half my teenage years in a strip club. Sometimes I convinced myself I was the curse that killed her.

One last look at my boring apartment, and I slung the rucksack over my shoulder.

I headed down the road barefoot, feeling gravel, dirt, even abandoned cigarette butts between my toes. I didn’t care. All I had were heels, and I preferred this.

Rain poured like bullets from the sky, like the heavens cracked open. I loved it. I loved the smell of clean air, the promise of something new just ahead. I tilted my face upward, letting the rain wash over the layers of makeup and grime. It felt incredible—like my skin was finally breathing again.

There was no way it was all gone. I probably looked worse. But I felt lighter.

“Hey, lady!” a gruff voice called.

I turned to see a man leaning out of a cab window. “Need a lift?”

I shrugged. Might as well. I wasn’t getting far on bare feet.

“Where you headed?” he asked, eyeing my outfit. “Costume party’s a little early, ain’t it?”

I frowned, glancing down at my pirate skirt and goosebump-covered legs. Right. That was stupid.

“I don’t know,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Anywhere. Train station. Ferry. Bus. Wherever you feel like going.”

He nodded and pulled away, headlights slicing through the rain as Wears Valley faded behind us.

I rested my head against the fogged window, watching the sparse lights disappear.

“I just need to leave this life.”

xxXxx

The ferry had plenty of warm cabins, couches, booths—but there I was, stretched out on the cold metal deck in the middle of the night. The Tennessee River slammed against the hull, spray soaking my clothes. I grinned anyway.

The rain hit harder the farther we moved from shore. It rattled against metal, loud and relentless. I kept my eyes closed.

This was it.

This was the feeling I’d been chasing.

I’d never need heroin again if this was what being alive felt like.

“No,” a girl’s voice snapped. “Don’t go near her. She looks like a tramp.”

A tramp.

Three guesses who she meant.

A quieter voice followed. A boy. “But—she looks cold. Shouldn’t we tell her to go inside?”

“Don’t be stupid, Elliot. She’s sleeping. If she wanted warmth, she’d be inside. Mind your business.”

I rolled my eyes behind closed lids.

Then I realized—I could still hear the rain, but I couldn’t feel it.

I opened my eyes.

I jumped upright. “What the hell?!” I snapped. “Why would you stand over someone like that?”

The girl glared at me. Pale. Pinkish-red hair. Same age, maybe. “Why would anyone lie out here in a storm and let the river drown them?”

“I can do what I want,” I shot back. “Standing over people while they sleep is creepy.”

Her eyes widened. She wasn’t used to pushback.

I turned to the boy, who looked mortified.

“Sorry about her,” he muttered, nodding toward the girl. She crossed her arms and glared. He fiddled with his thumbs.

“Grandpa says the storm’s getting worse,” he added. “Thunder, lightning. It’d be safer inside.”

That was… nice.

I stood, wobbling slightly. “Thanks.”

The girl snorted—then I remembered my outfit.

Oh.

That explained her attitude.

“My name’s Elliot,” the boy said softly. “That’s my twin sister, Natalie. What’s yours?”

“Mollie.”

He stared. I didn’t blame him.

“I’m going to change,” I said. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

Heat hit me as soon as I entered the cabin. I staggered down the hall, lights flickering. The ferry rocked violently. I grabbed the railing as memories of past highs blurred through my head.

I barely made it into the bathroom before locking myself into a stall and peeling off the costume. I threw it straight into the trash.

Good riddance.

I pulled on pajama pants and an oversized white hoodie.

The door burst open as the ferry heaved again.

This wasn’t rocking anymore.

It was lurching.

I gripped the sink, staring at my reflection.

Mascara streaked down my face. Lashes half-off. Foundation melted.

I looked wrecked.

No wonder that girl hated me.

I reached into my bag, hoping for a brush—or scissors—

CRACK.

The lights exploded white.

The ferry groaned—deep and awful—then jerked violently to one side. I slammed into the wall. Water rushed in around my feet.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

I dropped to my knees, grabbing my rucksack, yanking out a belt and securing it tight. If I survived, I’d need what was inside.

The hallway flooded fast.

The ferry tilted.

My heart pounded.

I let go of the rail and ran.

“ELLIOT!” I screamed. “NATALIE!”

No answer.

I burst onto the deck.

The lifeboats were gone.

Two empty mounts.

I spotted them drifting away in the river.

“GOD DAMMIT!”

The water climbed past my ankles. The ferry was sinking fast. If I didn’t drown, I’d freeze.

Stay calm.

Think, Mollie.

Something orange caught my eye.

A life jacket.

I lunged.

The ferry lurched violently, throwing me across the deck. My head cracked against metal—but my hands clutched fabric.

I strapped the jacket on as the river swallowed me.

Cold burned like fire.

The ferry groaned as it disappeared beneath the surface.

I wanted to scream. To fight. To swim.

I couldn’t move.

Shock claimed me.

My fingers found my locket.

Darkness closed in.

Faith was cruel.

And I let go.