Knowing that Jean had a lead in the race, Shawn placed all his hopes on luck. In their last race, though he had put in much effort, it had been luck that allowed him to win. With Jean's muscular body cutting through the water like that, beating him again would be almost impossible.
Shawn adjusted his strokes this time. If strength wouldn't win the race, then he would have to rely on his mind. After all, he wasn't about to admit that he was the worst swimmer in history and carry the bags back home.
No.
That punishment belonged to Jean for crossing him earlier.
"Hey Jean!" Shawn shouted between breaths. "You have some bird poop on your hair!"
Jean stopped immediately and ruffled his hair before realizing what had happened.
"Shawn!"
In that brief moment of hesitation, Shawn pushed harder, slicing through the water and closing the distance between them.
"Not fair, Shawn!" Jean shouted back. "That's cheating!"
"You cheated first," Shawn replied with a grin. "You didn't even wait for the countdown."
Jean snorted and increased the strength of his strokes. His broad shoulders rolled through the water with practiced ease, and within seconds the gap between them began widening again.
Shawn cursed quietly and pushed himself harder.
Just then, something brushed against his feet.
The sensation was soft.
Squishy.
He kicked instinctively.
The government seriously needs to clean this river, he thought irritably. The algae here is getting ridiculous.
He increased his stroking speed.
But moments later the strange feeling returned.
This time it didn't just brush his foot.
It wrapped around it.
Shawn froze.
"What the..."
Before he could finish the sentence, a powerful force yanked his leg downward.
"Jean!" he shouted, panic cracking his voice. "Something got me!"
Jean didn't even turn.
"Nice try," he called back. "If you can't win fairly, just accept your loss."
"Jean!"
The pull grew stronger.
Water splashed violently as Shawn struggled to keep himself afloat.
"Help!"
Something in Shawn's voice made Jean pause.
He turned.
For a brief second he saw Shawn's head above the water.
Then it vanished.
Jean's heart skipped.
Without thinking, he swam back faster than he ever had before and dove beneath the surface.
The river swallowed him in cold silence.
And there, beneath the wavering light filtering from above, Jean saw something that should not exist in a river.
A massive black tentacle stretched upward from the darkness below, tightly coiled around Shawn's leg as it dragged him deeper.
Jean's eyes widened.
He lunged toward it and clawed at the thick limb, but his fingers slipped uselessly across its slick surface. The thing was unbelievably slimy.
Shawn thrashed wildly as he fought the pull.
Jean gritted his teeth.
There was no time to think.
He yanked the chain from his neck, gripping the pointed edge of the small metal pendant attached to it.
Then he stabbed the tentacle.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The creature twitched violently.
For a brief moment, hope flared inside him.
Then another tentacle shot upward from the darkness.
It struck Jean square in the chest.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs and hurled him upward through the water like a ragdoll.
Jean burst from the river and slammed violently into the riverbank. His body crashed into a nearby tree before collapsing onto the ground.
Darkness swallowed him.
Shawn saw it happen.
"Somebody help me!" he screamed desperately.
But there was no one there.
The pull grew stronger.
The water closed over his head.
And the river swallowed him whole.
It felt as though the river itself had grown jaws.
The weight of the water pressed in from every direction, cold and merciless as it stole the warmth from his skin. Shawn thrashed with everything his twelve year old body had left, but the tentacle only tightened its grip, dragging him deeper into the suffocating dark.
The cold bit into him like knives.
His chest burned.
His lungs screamed for air as bitter river water rushed into his mouth and nose. He tried to cough, to spit it out, but every attempt only dragged more choking liquid into his throat.
Panic and pain twisted together until he could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
No.
Not like this.
His thoughts came in frantic flashes as the water swallowed him piece by piece.
He kicked and twisted, clawing uselessly at the monstrous limb wrapped around his leg, but his strength was fading fast. His arms felt heavy. His movements slowed with every passing second.
Time stretched strangely around him.
Each moment felt endless.
And in that endless moment, regrets surfaced.
Shawn's frantic mind turned inward.
He thought of the race earlier.
The laughter on the riverbank.
The proud look Jean had given him.
He remembered the bet they had made and realized he would never see how it ended.
Then his thoughts drifted further.
To all the things he had never done.
All the moments he had promised himself he would enjoy later.
He had spent so much time tinkering with inventions that might one day change the world that he had forgotten the world he was already living in.
Forgotten to simply be a boy.
To run.
To shout.
To laugh without thinking about tomorrow.
I wanted more time.
The burning in his chest worsened.
Dark spots spread across his vision like ink spilled across paper.
But even as everything faded, his mind betrayed him again with memories he could not stop.
I won't be there for them...
A sob escaped his throat, dissolving into bubbles that drifted upward.
Jean's face appeared in his mind.
His best friend.
His partner.
His brother in everything but blood.
Memories flickered rapidly.
Late nights hunched over messy sketches.
Whispered plans for inventions that would change the future.
Quiet laughter in places where no one else understood them.
They had so many projects left to finish.
So many dreams still waiting.
Shawn imagined Jean years from now, nervously holding a bouquet as he tried to confess his feelings to Sally.
The image was so vivid it almost made him smile.
I should have been there to tease him.
To celebrate with him.
To see him become someone great.
His body convulsed as the last of his air escaped.
Pain tore through his chest like fire trapped beneath ice.
His mouth opened in a silent scream as water flooded his lungs, merciless and suffocating.
His mind retreated from the agony, shrinking inward around the final sparks of thought.
I'm only twelve.
I didn't live.
I didn't do enough.
The pain slowly dulled.
The burning in his lungs faded into numbness.
His limbs went slack.
His hands drifted open in the water.
And as darkness closed around him, the last thing Shawn felt was not fear.
It was sorrow.
A deep, hollow sorrow echoing through the fading corners of his young soul like a prayer never spoken.
Then there was nothing