Helen Douglas - After Eden

I checked my mirror. He was matching my speed, not attempting to ram me again. He must have realised I had nowhere to go.

It began to rain. Great sheets of water fell from the sky and my windscreen was awash. Frantically, I pushed buttons and hit the sticks either side of the steering wheel. My indicators came on. Then my headlights. I kept the headlights on. It hadn’t occurred to me that I needed my lights. Finally, I found the wipers.

As I shifted down and took the corner above Lucky Cove, the car shuddered. We were passing Perran golf course now. Rain glistened on the road. My wipers raced frantically from side to side. The engine roared, and then shuddered again. I was losing power. I shifted down to first gear and the engine screamed. And then stopped.

I turned the ignition, but it sputtered and refused to come to life. The red light on the dashboard was still flashing. Taking a closer look at it, I realised it was the low-fuel light. I was out of petrol.

Checking my mirror, I could see Travis undoing his seat belt. He would be on me in seconds.

I unclicked my seat belt, flung open the car door and hurled myself across the road towards the golf course. Without looking back to see if he was behind me, I launched myself over the low fence. He couldn’t follow me over the golf course in his car.

‘Eden!’

I could tell from his voice that he was close. I was not a sprinter; I was an endurance runner. If he was faster than me, I was done for. I pushed myself harder, not saving any of my energy for the long haul. My chest ached and the rain slashed my skin.

‘Eden!’

He sounded a little further away. Resisting the temptation to turn around and check his position, I pushed myself on. The rain was in my eyes and the footpath above the cliff top had turned to mud. One slip and I would either be over the edge or flat on my face.

If I could just get to Perran, if I was among people, he wouldn’t be able to hurt me. I could see the streetlights bright in front of me. It was nine o’clock in the evening and raining, but it was June. In June there were always tourists. Even in the rain, there had to be tourists. But what if there weren’t any? Then what? I would go to Connor’s.

I passed the end of the golf course and the path narrowed. I was running alongside fields of potatoes. I couldn’t hear Travis so I risked a glance backwards. He was a couple of hundred metres behind me, running slowly and panting. Too many cigarettes.

I had found my rhythm and if I had been in my running shoes, I could have kept this up for miles. But I was wearing sandals that were soaked and muddy. I could feel my feet slipping inside them with every stride. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.

Travis was probably three minutes behind me. The field petered out and I was on the seafront road. The street was deserted. Where were all the tourists? I blinked hard to squeeze the rainwater out of my eyes and aimed for Connor’s house at the other end of the seafront road.

I slammed into his door and pounded on it.

‘Connor!’ I shouted.

I banged my fists against the door.

‘Connor! Open up!’

Nothing.

I looked behind me. Travis was halfway along the seafront road. He would be on me in a minute.

‘Open up!’ I screamed. God, he must still be at the cinema. He couldn’t help me.

I looked back again. Travis was close. Desperate, I turned towards the beach. It was deserted; the boats bobbed and dipped on the high water, their masts clanging together eerily. In seconds I would be out of options. I got myself ready to run again.

Tears joined the rain in my eyes. I ran. I ran back down to the seafront road, which was towards Travis. We passed within a couple of metres of each other before I hit the sand and headed towards the harbour wall. The sea was high and I had one chance. One slender thread of hope. That I could jump off the harbour wall and avoid the deadly rocks. That Travis would follow me in without knowing where to jump.

The wall was slick with rain. I paused to kick off my sandals and took a quick look over my shoulder. Travis was about ten seconds behind me. He was walking. As if he knew I had nowhere to go.

I reached the end of the harbour wall and looked down. When the sea was flat calm, you could just about make out where the rocks were under the water. But now, with the sea sucking and surging below, I couldn’t tell with any certainty where they were.

‘Eden! Don’t jump!’ Travis yelled. ‘No one’s going to hurt you!’

He was only a metre away from me. I looked down at the sea again, trying desperately to find that safe place between the two groups of rocks. I felt his hand grab for my hood and then I hurled myself towards the place where I had seen my friends jump so many times before.

The cold water opened up to swallow me. I sank deep, down beneath the seething surface. My eyelids closed and then reopened. A pearly brightness high above me suggested twilight. I kicked hard and aimed upwards. By the time I broke the surface, my lungs were exploding with pain. I gasped.

I squinted up to the top of the wall. Travis was there, watching. I swam towards the opposite headland, the way I had seen my friends do countless times before. Glancing back, I saw Travis shrug off his jacket. Someone else was approaching him. I swam hard. I’d never been a strong swimmer. I’d always been terrified of deep water, intimidated by large waves.

There was a deep splash behind me. Travis presumably. I didn’t waste time looking behind me; I swam harder.

‘Eden,’ I heard Travis yell hoarsely.

My arms ached as I parted the water, my mind focused on one thing: reaching the opposite headland. Waves lifted me up and threw me down. I tried not to panic.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It touched, barely, and slid off. I swallowed a scream and a mouthful of water. When I caught my breath again, Travis was swimming alongside me, a bloody gash to the side of his head. His eyes were wild with panic. He reached out to grab me. One of his hands grasped my shoulder and pushed. My head sank beneath the surface. I struggled, but he had a tight grip on my hoodie. I hit upwards towards his face but the water stopped me from getting any power behind my punch. I tried to swim away. His hand held tight to my hoodie. Bubbles escaped from my mouth and drifted upwards. Above me, red radiated around his head like a bleeding poppy. I panicked and dug my fingernails into Travis’s hand. He gripped my shoulder tighter. My chest was tight with pain. I needed oxygen. My legs began to kick randomly as I used my arms to push for the surface. Travis continued to push me down.

I closed my eyes. My lungs were empty. I felt a heavy movement in the water nearby, but couldn’t register what or where. Saltwater was in my nose and mouth. In my ears. I thought of Ryan. I pictured the sticky pink of blood above me. I saw a blue planet spiralling away from me.

This was the end. I knew it. I had been under too long. The light was too far away. But Connor was safe. The future was safe. The planet would continue to thrive. Ryan. His face swam into my mind. I wanted it to be the last thing I thought about, but a jumble of images floated through my consciousness: my mother’s windblown red hair; the photograph of Connor on the last day of school, a seagull gliding through the air.

And then I felt pain on my arm. A dragging. Brightness in my eyes and cool salty air. Still in darkness, I sensed cold water in my hair. My lungs aching. A tugging that hurt the socket where my arm met my shoulder. And then darkness.

I don’t know how long the darkness lasted for.

The next thing I was aware of was a sharp pain between my shoulder blades and then saltwater again, warmer now, leaving my mouth instead of entering it. My lungs burned. I tried to breathe but couldn’t. A sharp strike to the back was followed by more water. My eyes were streaming, my nose bled saltwater and I couldn’t breathe in because water was still coming out.