These weren’t her people. This wasn’t her problem. She had enough troubles of her own. Not my business, she told herself. Don’t get involved. But the seconds kept ticking by. And still no Sarah. 20 seconds now. 30. People couldn’t breathe underwater. Maya knew that soon it would be too late. She thought of her own near drowning when she was eight.
Her foster father at the time had pulled her out of a pool, more angry about her wet clothes than worried if she was okay. No one had really cared if she lived or died. Then Maya looked at her backpack. Everything she owned was in there. her money, her book, her mom’s locket. If she left it to help Sarah, someone might steal it. Or the bikers might find it and know someone had been watching them.
Either way, she might lose everything. “Stay put,” a voice in her head warned. “Stay safe.” But another voice, one that sounded like her mother’s, whispered, “Water can save you or kill you.” 45 seconds now, maybe a minute. No sign of Sarah. With a groan, Maya made her choice. She kicked off her worn sneakers and shoved them into her backpack.
Then she pushed the backpack deeper under the pier, hiding it as best she could in the shadows. She took a deep breath and crawled out from her hiding place. The late day sun hit her face as she stood up. The lake water lapped at her feet, cool and inviting. Without looking at the bikers, Maya ran into the water.
The lake bottom was squishy between her toes, then dropped off suddenly. She gasped as the cold water reached her chest, then her neck. Then she was swimming, heading for the spot where she had last seen Sarah. When she reached the middle of the lake, Maya took a deep breath and dove down. The water was murky and green. She couldn’t see far in front of her.
