HAUNTED SONA

CHAPTER 14

There was no time to think, barely enough time to react. In retrospect, Michael should have jumped off the makeshift raft before the wave hit them. Instead he remained on the raft, as if he believed he could ride it out, as the rogue wave swept it first onto its side, like in slow motion, and then capsized it, tossing the three men into the water.

Those things are down there. That bit of reality came to him, but he was distracted by the sudden depth of the water. He had always been a decent swimmer, yet he didn't want to be in this particular body of water. Struggling, he fought his way to the surface, sputtering. What little water he'd swallowed tasted rancid and made his stomach churn.

The force of the wave had pried loose one of the oil drums, rendering the raft useless. In that section of the subterranean tunnel, the water was surrounded by walls, meaning they would have to swim the rest of the way.

"Alex!" he shouted into the darkness. "Bellick!"

That was something else: It was pitch-dark in there, now with the flashlight lost in the water. A sliver of panic ran through him, and he fought to contain it.

How was he supposed to continue in that darkness? And where were the other two guys? Anything could have happened to them. Maybe the dead things beneath the water were holding both of them down. Maybe they were toying with him, allowing him to think he was safe. At any moment he could expect them to grab him in a death grip and force him down, drowning him slowly.

"Bellick! ALEX!" he called out in desperation.

A head pushing through the surface drew a gasp from him. In that near-total darkness, Michael was still able to make out Bellick's features.

"Scofield! Mahone!" Bellick's fear sounded as potent as his own.

"Over here!" Michael called to him. "And—where's Alex?"

"I don't know. He's not with you?"

"No. Alex. ALEX!"

"Scofield, please, help me. I'm dizzy. I hit my head on something." Bellick groaned. "Feel like I'm gonna pass out."

"Hold on!"

Michael was just reaching Bellick's side when they heard another splash in the water.

"Bellick—Michael—"

"Alex!" Finally, a reason to smile. It wasn't, he told himself, because he was so overjoyed that Alex Mahone had survived or anything. It was just easier, for survival's sake, if there were three of them.

Or so he insisted to himself.

In the darkness Mahone coughed. It sounded like he retched, too, before he glided through the water to join them.

"Well, the raft thing wasn't too bad an idea," Alex quipped. "Next time, what say we consider the Tsunami-in-a-Cave Factor?"

Bellick found that amusing, though the warm rivulet of blood dripping down the side of his face made him stop laughing.

"Oh, man," Alex muttered.

"Yeah, he's injured," Michael told him. "Not sure how badly yet. One thing's for sure: We can't stay in this water."

"I'm trying not to think about it," Mahone admitted, the color draining from his face. "It's a long way we gotta go in here, if I remember correctly. We're not gonna make it."

"Mi-chael. Miiiiii-chaaaael."

Thrashing around in the water, he faced the wall behind him. There was the angel, with light encircling her. A soft and warm light, though her face was still obstructed by the hood of her garment, her long dark brown hair peeking out from it as before. She hovered above them, her arms at her sides. As always, her very presence calmed him.

"There's another way," she told them in her airy ghost-voice. "Come. Hurry. Hurry, Michael!"

"Oh, my God," Bellick breathed. "Who is that?"

"My—my angel." Michael prodded him, guiding him by the arm. "Do whatever she says."

He had to know. He had to find out. Michael couldn't wait any longer.

Naturally, the time was wrong for that. He had the safety of the other two men, in addition to his own, to think of. And then there was Linc. His brother would be waiting for them with a boat at the mouth of the cave. If they were to escape before Linc could be detected, they couldn't afford to waste even a fraction of a second of precious time. He couldn't risk the prison guards being alerted of the escape and Linc being arrested along with the three of them.

But I really have to know.

"Where is she taking us?" Alex asked behind him.

The angel herself, without turning around, answered his question: "Through another passage. Hurry."

Around a corner they turned. They swam several more yards. Michael could have continued, yet he knew Bellick, besides having a head injury and having already admitted he was dizzy and disoriented, wasn't in the best of shape. He could hear that the man's breathing was growing heavier, more labored.

"You should go on ahead without me," he said in between gasps. "You—you and Alex. Go on ahead, Michael."

Michael was dumbfounded. This was Brad Bellick, thinking of someone other than himself? He had to digest that for a moment. This was the same cruel bastard who'd made his life, and his friends', miserable while they were in Fox River. Something, some transformation, had taken place. There was no other explanation for it.

"C'mon now, Michael," Bellick went on. "It's a lot further."

"It's not. Now shut up and hold onto me."

"You guys go—"

"Hold onto me!" Michael was adamant. "It's not much further. Angel—please tell him it's not."

And please tell me who you are. Even though I already know. I need to hear you say it.

Truthfully, he couldn't bear much more. As much as he feared hearing the truth, he couldn't go on like that much longer, clinging to false hope.

The angel tossed a quick glance back at them over her shoulder, and she spoke reassuringly. "We're almost there. Just a little bit more…"

They swam through the water. The leeches had found them; Michael felt them on his body, and he watched both Mahone and Bellick reacting with disgust and pain as they slapped at the slimy creatures. Still, the leeches were preferable to those…other things. Scowling, Michael looked around at the murky water.

Where were they? And why hadn't they appeared?

"I got him," Mahone said, brushing alongside them and taking Bellick from him. "Relax, Brad. Enjoy the ride."

Michael permitted him to take over. He was in no condition to rescue anyone else. Physically, he was fine; the problem was his emotional state.

The night before he'd dreamt about Sara again. That had been the most heartbreaking of the dreams to date. It was about the escape. That in itself wasn't surprising, since Sara and escaping had been taking up so much of his thoughts lately. He'd seen himself at the mouth of the cave; Linc was there, manning a great, big, beautiful boat with snow-white sails. Above them was a bright blue sky, cloudless, one beautiful summer day. And of course, Sara had been there. She'd looked so feminine in a flowing dress the color of the sky, her long dark hair free and tossed by the breezes. Smiling, she'd positively beamed with love, and she'd had her arms outstretched to him.

In the dream he'd filled those arms of hers with a loving embrace. That was one of those memorable dreams that had seemed so real. Touching her, smelling her hair and the salt-tinged ocean air—all of it had seemed so, so real. It had actually caused him physical pain to wake up and find that none of it was real.

And he had to face the truth, that he would never touch her again, other than in his dreams. He knew that now, even if he continued to fight the truth with all his strength.

Sara was gone. This was her ghost, her spirit, moving on ahead of them. Every dream he'd cherished, everything he'd looked forward to, even his reasons for escaping Sona, his last ounce of hope, everything had died with her.

"What's she doing?" Alex whispered at his side.

The angel ran her delicate hands along the wall up ahead. An entire section of stone shifted loudly.

A door. A passageway that might have gone undetected, hidden there within the wall, like something out of an old mystery movie.

"Follow this way," the angel instructed. "But be careful. This is the most dangerous way to the ocean. And…you'll find something else there."

Michael and Alex both climbed onto the bank—what little of it there was—and helped Bellick out of the water. Cursing, they yanked at the leeches on their bodies, though distracted, their stares directed to the opening in the wall before them. It was then that Michael noticed something in the water.

A skull had bobbed up, very quickly, and then disappeared back under the water. Squinting, he could make out another form, there close to the surface. And then a second form. A third. A fourth. A fifth.

They had been there, he realized, in the water with him, Alex, and Bellick. The dead things. His heart rate accelerated as he wondered…were the ghosts under the water leaving them alone for a reason? Were they being lulled into a false sense of security?

"Hurry, Michael," the angel urged. "And be careful. You are all in great danger."

Michael swallowed hard. Hoarsely, he spoke. "Angel. Angel, before you go, I have to know who you are. Please tell me—"

She had her back to him, but he stopped speaking when she turned. Raising her hands, she slowly pushed back the hood of her garment. He stared in amazement and his breath caught at the back of his throat as tears welled in his eyes.

When he at last could speak, Michael uttered only one word out loud.

"Veronica…"