Later, she'll be relieved to remember nothing after the impact - not the water sucking at her shoes and jacket, not the pressure compacting her lungs, not even the way black crept in around all the edges as she tore at her seatbelt. She'll recall only the lights and the lurching and Djem's fingers fumbling at her belt fastener.

That's enough nightmare fodder for anybody.

When Neph comes to, it's with her arms tangled up in the straps of her seat-cushion-slash-flotation-device, pins and needles burning her swollen hands, and a mouthful of sand. She's equal parts scorching hot (back, neck, shoulders, ow) and numb with cold (legs, feet, her whole front) except where things hurt. The 'how the fuck' of that gets answered real quick by a wave throwing itself up to her waist, where she lies facedown on wet - cold - sand.

Brain barely online, she's powered only by the land mammal urge to get outta the water; limbs out of commission, she improvises. Neph inchworms up the tideline, pushing off her knees and shoving her shoulders through the sand until she hits shade, where she blows the rest of her energy flopping over onto her back. Pink and dredged as a cutlet, she just...lies there for a second. The reality of what's happened may be slightly out of reach, but she can already tell it's gonna suck when it comes home to roost.