The Vanishing Girls Callie Browning (interesting books to read .TXT) 📖

Holden stepped out of the shadows right in front of her and asked, "Where's Eileen?"

Startled, Dorothy staggered backwards, anxiously fixing the wig on her head as she said, "Oh, Holden... didn't know you were here."

"That's not what I asked you," he said angrily.

Dorothy glanced over her shoulder. Her tone was urgent, sympathetic as though trying to make Holden see reason. "She's no good, you know. Always a million men calling for her at work, going to lunch with a different one every day. She finally got tired of her worthless existence."

Holden's eye twitched. "She's in the car?!" he thundered.

Dorothy pointed to the water. "Maybe you can still save her."

Holden grabbed hold of Dorothy and shook her. To his surprise, the wig fell off and a shiny bald head beneath glinted in the moonlight.

Holden stared at the person before him, his mind trying to reconcile what his eyes saw. "Lloyd...?"

He turned his wrists, tightening his grip on the frilly collar and yanking Lloyd toward him. “Don’t play with me! I swear to God I’ll take my time breaking each of your limbs."

A twisted sneer played on Lloyd's lips. "Your little girlfriend is drowning, star boy. Where are your priorities?"

Reluctantly, Holden released him and raced toward the edge of the wharf. His heart thudded in his throat as he ran to the spot where the car had fallen in. The careenage was the only stretch of water on the island that often looked dark and bottomless. Visibility was even worse after sunset. Behind him, Lloyd’s chunky shoes beat a hasty retreat as he ran off into the night. Without a second thought, Holden dove in.

The water was still warm after a day of relentless sunshine, but there was nothing pleasurable about the way it swallowed Holden whole as he tried to find the car in the cloudy depths. He had only a trail of air bubbles to guide him; the hint of moonlight that broke the surface wasn't enough to illuminate the car's position. Holden kicked forward, stretching his hands out in front of him, feeling for anything large and solid and praying that Eileen stayed clam so he’d have enough time to locate her. He swam a few feet deeper, but again, all he felt were small fish circling him. His eyes stung, and his lungs strained until finally, he turned his head to the surface and kicked upward. A hollow clang echoed through the water when Holden flipped his feet, not unlike the sound of a shoe kicking a car door.

Holden spun around and opened his mouth in astonishment, swallowing a mouthful of the turbid water before he saw the faint outline of the car's roof beneath him.

Holden hurried to the surface, his lungs pumping like bellows as he swallowed gulps of fresh air. Despite the pain in his chest, he dove down again, his lungs protesting as he thrust frantically toward the car. He found it quicker this time, but being more than ten feet beneath the surface made it impossible to see anything at all. His hands roamed over the metal body as it kept sinking, dragging Holden with it as it edged closer and closer to the bottom. He swam quickly, running his hands along the left side of the car, pulling door handles that wouldn't budge and hoping for an open window.

A heavy thud came from inside the car and Holden's heart skipped a beat: Eileen was alive. It sounded like she was kicking glass. Relieved that she was still alive, he swam over the top of the car and went to the right side of the car and remembered her faulty rear window that never rolled right up and was always falling. Holden's chest wheezed painfully as he propelled himself downward and slipped his fingers between the edges of the window and its frame. With a shuddering heave, he forced the window down and reached inside. With a jolt of relief, his hands ran over Eileen's unconscious form on the back seat, her wrists bound tight with something that felt like silk. Holden's pulse raced as he grabbed her, pulled her through the window and kicked frantically as he guided them to the surface. Beneath his hand, a weak heartbeat pulsed in her chest, but Holden knew he still had some way to go before he got her to the top. But under his relief, anger coursed through him.

There was no way Eileen could have bound her hands and feet in such a fashion, put the car in neutral, pushed it until it gained momentum and jumped into the backseat before it plunged into the water. Lloyd had lied to him.

Cool air washed over them as their heads broke the surface and oxygen flooded Holden's body. He lay on his back, clutching Eileen to him as he undertook a determined one-armed backstroke toward the embankment. The tide worked in their favour, ushering a tired Holden and unconscious Eileen toward a Moses boat that bobbed gently in the onyx waters. He pushed her into it and then hauled himself up, sputtering and gasping as he fell to the bottom of the tiny boat and got tangled in a damp fishing net. The odour of melts and seaweed filled his nostrils as the boat swayed beneath them.                                                         Every muscle in his body ached as he reached over and puffed air into her mouth and pumped her chest to revive her. His formal training had never required him to keep anyone alive and he’d only become acutely aware of that after his father’s accident. He’d asked Clifford to teach him mouth-to-mouth and other life-saving techniques, so determined was he to never feel so helpless again.

He thought back to the night they met, the arguments they'd had,