The Gift

Chapter 68

Whit

Plop!

Plop!

Terrific. We've just been dumped headfirst into a toilet-and a gross one, too.

And before Wisty and I even have a sec to take a lap around our "wading pool," up through the refracting surface of the water I see Byron reaching for the toilet handle.

God, no! That traitor isn't going to -

But he is. And when you think about it, considering the downward spiral we've been on lately, getting flushed down the toilet really may just be the ultimate poetic justice. I still can't figure out if the creep is saving our lives or just getting a kick out of flushing down the pipes his former nemesis and the girl who'd so often rejected him.

But when the full force hits, none of it matters anyway. After the shock of the initial crash of water, which comes close to knocking me senseless against the sides of the pipes, it's one dark and scary shot straight out of the school building. The water power is so strong I can't even twist my head far enough to see if Wisty's behind me. It's killing me not to know if she made it.

I'd been a champion swimmer in school, so the sensation of being a fish isn't as odd for me as I might have thought. But this is like trying to do laps in an ocean during a hurricane, so no, I've never trained for it. And I'm worried about how Wisty's handling it… until I remember that she's done time as a rodent in a gutter.

Wisty, hang in there, I'm thinking. Just remember to breathe.

The pipes are getting wider and wider, which doesn't offer much relief since there's these waterfall noises that keep getting louder-and the too-gross-for-words stuff coming down the pipe with us is getting thicker and thicker. Just the thought of it makes me nearly suffocate.

Just remember to breathe, Whit, I say to myself. Which is actually pretty good advice, because when I do, I realize that my sense of smell isn't on a human scale.

So I breathe even more deeply, and I catch sight of Wisty. At least, I assume it's her and not some other guppy busting out of "prison" via the sewer.

We make eye contact, and I think, Follow me, hoping that the message somehow comes through in my face. I'm glad we've spent so much of our lives understanding each other without saying a thing.

We're going faster and faster-a real raging river-until suddenly we find ourselves in still water: a storm sewer. From there we make our way downstream and into a maze of lazy subterranean canals under the city.

Before long Wisty and I see something we haven't seen in a long time-light! Real, honest-to-God daylight! We stare at it, mesmerized as it grows and grows. We start to see blues and greens and yellows and -

Why is the light growing so quickly when we're not even swimming hard? And what's that almost deafening, roaring sound?

"Swim back!" I try to scream. But I can't. I'm a fish.

And it's too late anyway.