Time. Slows. Down.

I watch, paralyzed, as the tentacle comes out of nowhere, slicing through the air like a machete. It's speedier than any tentacle should be, and resembles nothing more than a blur of swollen grey flesh and protruding suckers as it soars out of the water and takes the bullet meant for Finn. The impact of the bullet on grey flesh sends a shock wave rippling across the water, and then, all hell breaks loose.

Owen starts firing. His aim is terrible, and the bullets spray everywhere— into the water, across the writhing tentacles, towards the motorboat. "Get down!" Ronan shouts, and he yanks my arm and we hit the deck. A stray bullet cracks against the guardrail, splitting it in half. Shrapnel flies everywhere.

The presence of the Kraken has consumed Owen. He doesn't notice as I reach for the steering wheel to guide us back to the canoe, doesn't see me stretching out my arm for Finn to hold—

Finn's freckled face is white with terror as he surges forward to take my hand. In the split-second before our skin make contact, a vision flickers before my eyes, and I realize I've seen all of this before— I saw that same terrified expression on his face, saw the same fear in his eyes—

And I saw blood, everywhere.

"Becca, duck!" Ronan yells. And then I'm being dragged backward, away from Finn.

A tentacle as wide as the motorboat swings over my head, crashing down on the canoe with the ferocity of a cornered, feral animal. Someone cries out— I don't know who. Then the tentacle tightens around the wooden hull and the canoe splinters in two, sending both Owen and Finn plunging into the black water of the lake.

"No!" I scream. "No!"

They're gone. Both of them. The lake is frothing with fury now; transformed into a churning cauldron of foam by the Kraken's writhing tentacles. Waves taller than me crash against the hull of the boat, shaking and tilting us like one of those fake rodeo bulls you find in bars, and Ronan is clutching my arm so hard it hurts, chorusing the word fuck over and over again. He saved my life by pulling me away— that tentacle would have taken off my head. Ronan saved me.

But I couldn't save Finn.

Time speeds up again, as it usually does when you're on the verge of death. It's been almost a minute now, but Finn or Owen haven't resurfaced, and my dream is finally coming true. Finn is going to drown in the lake, and I can't do anything to stop it.

I should have chosen the gun. I should have chosen the goddamn gun—

Ronan shouts, "We have to go in after him! If Finn stays underwater any longer, he'll die!"

I choke back a scream. In my dream, we all fell into the water— Finn, Ronan, me— and none of us came back. The oil smothered us all. I'll be damned if I let the dream play out in real-time. I'll be damned if I lose another friend.

The visions in my head have been speaking to me since I was five years old. Maybe it's time I finally started listening.

In the back of my mind, I see Julia lying in a hospital bed, her heart monitor spiking feebly as she stares mindlessly at the white ceiling. I didn't mean to, she whispers. I didn't mean to, I promise... My cousin, gone. My only friend, gone. Taken from me. I lost her... I lost Finn. I'm not going to lose Ronan, too.

I can't bear to hurt anyone else.

"We can't swim after him," I tell Ronan. "If we jump in the water, we'll drown too."

"You said you can see things," he says, almost accusingly. "Can't you see a way to find Finn?"

The frigid lake-water runs down my cheeks like teardrops. "There's too much going on. I won't be able to focus."

"Please, Becca, can't you at least try?" I don't know if I've ever heard Ronan say please before— but here he is, pleading with me to save Finn. "You said that the Kraken favors Finn— maybe you can talk to it, convince it to save him!"

Another wave rocks the boat, and I bite down on my lip so hard I taste blood. What Ronan is asking me to do— it's impossible. I'll never be able to see anything, not in this chaos. But if I don't try, then Finn will drown, and it really will be my fault.

"Okay," I say, my voice small. "I'll try."

I close my eyes and think of the Kraken.

It reaches out almost immediately, almost like it's been waiting for me. I see its terror, and I feel its pain. I feel the Kraken's bullet wound as if I was the one Owen shot. It's trying to speak— I think— but I can't understand the Kraken's language, if it can even be called a language. I try to search for Finn, but he's lost in the blackness of the lake.

Please, I think. You have to help Finn. He's drowning in the lake, and you're the only one who can rescue him.

The Kraken is silent. I can feel it reaching into my mind, pulling at different memories: I see myself swinging a baseball bat at Sammy's arm, see myself hiding a scrap of white fabric in a bee's nest, see myself staring down at Clancey's bloodied, pale face. Distrust floods into my thoughts. The Kraken pulls away, blocking its mind from mine.

No! I scream. Please! This isn't for me, it's for Finn! You don't have to trust me— you just have to save him! You can't just let him drown!

And then I'm gone. Real life hits me like a slap in the face, and I blink once, twice. Then a spray of cold water stings my skin, jerking me back into the bucking motorboat.

Ronan is shaking my shoulders. "Did it work? Becca, did it work?"

"No," I cry, "It wouldn't listen to me, it didn't trust me—"

"What the—!"

I whip around at the sound of his horrified shout. A pale hand slams down on the edge of the boat; a few seconds later, a water-soaked face follows it. But it's not Finn— it's Owen.

Shaking violently, the counselor drags himself onto the boat and collapses on the white floor. His gun is gone. "Finn— I couldn't find him— I'm sorry."

I grab him by the shirt and drag him up to eye level. "Where is he?" I yell at his pale, stricken face. "You bastard! This is all your fault!"

I draw back my fist, but Ronan takes hold of my arm and stops me. "Becca, no! Beating up Owen won't help Finn. We're wasting our time."

"Yes, you are. Finn is dead," Owen says, his voice hoarse and cracked. "He's dead. You can't save him now."

"Shut up!" I scream, pushing him away so hard his spine cracks against the metal guardrail. He lets out a groan of pain. "I'll throw you overboard, I swear to God I will!"

"Becca, this isn't helping! We need to find Finn!"

"How? If we jump in the lake, we'll drown too!"

Just to prove my point, a tentacle smacks against the side of the boat and nearly capsizes us on the spot. Owen shouts in alarm as a wave crashes over the railing, drenching him.

We're going to die out here, in the lake. The Kraken is going to kill us just like he tried to kill Owen. I can already see it happening. I can see the tentacles swarming over the sides of the boat, hear the sickening crack of metal and wood as the motorboat crumples; I watch as Ronan's pale hand drifts below the surface of the black water, gone, and I can't save him, I couldn't save Julia, I can't save any of us—

"I'm going to dive in after him," Ronan says determinedly. "If I don't resurface in two minutes, just assume I've died a hero's death—"

"No," I say. Something cold and hard seizes at my heart— this is a feeling I've felt too many times. Like when Julia told me who sold her the drugs that made her overdose. Or when Clancey called me a bitch in the woods. It's not determination— no, this is something much darker than that. This is a wave of cold, deep anger, hardened by my own resolve.

I see pieces of the motorboat scattered across the lake, and a single tentacle undulating past a pale, motionless body. If we don't escape the lake, all of us— Ronan, Owen, and I— will die. And there's no fucking way I'm going to let that happen.

"Nobody is diving in," I say firmly. "We are going to steer this boat back to shore, and we are going to survive."

"What?" Ronan rounds on me, his face twisted with shock. "Becca, if we leave, Finn is as good as dead!"

"And if we don't leave, we'll all die!" I shout back. "The Kraken favors Finn. It won't let him drown. But it doesn't give a damn about us— we're sitting ducks here, and another hit will sink our boat."

"I'm not letting you kill Finn. I'm not."

Shakily, I rise to my feet and slam both hands down on the steering wheel. "I'm not killing Finn. I'm saving us."