Page 21 of Sink With Me

“We can’t get any closer, Cas, it’s too dangerous!” The moaning of the ship almost drowns his voice out. I vaguely hear him calling my name as I pinch my nose shut and jump. Within seconds I’m already too deep, the turbulent current dragging me in the same direction as her.

The ocean makes my skin feel like it’s being sliced by ice shards the further down I go. Eyes burning and blurry from the salt. I can’t let her die. Not yet. Not right in front of me. I still haven’t decided on what to do with her, but this isn’t how I wanted any of this to happen.

I swim further, trying to catch up with her. That’s when I realize she’s allowing herself to sink, she’s diving. Legs uncoordinated but propelling her towards a body stuck below a beam that I can barely make out in the growing darkness, each of her strokes becoming slower and less effective than the last the further down she pushes. She can’t swim.

My lungs burn with the need to suck in air, but I can’t just yet. My arm reaches out, pulling another handful of water behind me. She’s almost at the body, now close enough that I can tell it’s a man, and he’s clearly already dead. My lungs scream. If I’m out of air, she must be very close. My fingers hook around her vest just as hers brush against the man's. She tries to fight against me as she keeps trying to go down, but with every bubble that flows from her mouth, the more oxygen she’s losing. Then her body jerks. Locking an arm around her waist, her unfocused eyes land on mine as she does the one thing I don’t need her to do and tries to breathe. She’s been under too long; the human body can only be told to refuse air for a few minutes before it fights against the mind for that vital need. At least I’d like to believe she's not psychotic enough to purposely want to drown herself simply because she's in my arms. I don't plan on drowning in this wreckage with her, so I begin to push hard against the current. What a contradiction—here I am, saving her life when I always thought she’d be needing to be saved from me.

My fingers slip through every Velcro and various latches in place that hold gear to her body, its weight only pulling us both deeper than we need to be. I thought I was frantic before. Yeah, that was nothing compared to now as I catch her hands floating limply through the water while her eyes close over and her body jolts again. Dark spots speckle my own eyesight, and I know I have less than 60 seconds to resurface before we both meet our watery graves.

I’ve wondered what she’d feel like as her life drained from her body in my hands, would she be afraid? Would I do it quickly or would I do it slowly? Would she even stand a fighting chance against me? But in none of my imagined scenarios was I envisioning her body, cold and slack and at the mercy of my seas. As I swim hard and pull her up, the water growing lighter ahead of me, the feelings rising are scarier than the thought of drowning.

Sam comes into view, blurred still by the surface and the strain on my vision. As I break through, I try to shout to him but I’m too busy gulping down as much air as I can while I drag her towards the edge of the boat, letting his grip replace mine as he pulls her up. It's so dark, the smoke having completely filled the air in my absence–Sam has his shirt pulled over his mouth, his eyes red and watering to combat the tainted fog. He reaches out a hand immediately giving me muffled orders and I let his strength help pull me over the ledge. I can barely figure out that he wants me working on her chest with how heavy my head feels.

The boat begins to move as I straddle her to hold her steady while I do compressions. It’s times like this that remind me why I’d trust him with my life; he’s taken action that he knows I need from him and hasn’t once questioned me.

“COME ON!” I yell as the boat speeds over waves, and we jolt around helplessly. I have the life I need in my hands, but it’s slipping through like sand with each hard pump I put into her chest. My teeth chatter against the chill quickly overtaking my bones. Each word Sam shouts through his walkie is just background noise as I focus on her once-pink lips fading into a blue like the bodies around the ship. It reminds me of her eyes. I just need her to open her eyes. Her tan skin pales and that odd feeling wraps around my chest like a vise again.

“No. Not like this. Stay with me.” I mumble, checking her pulse. I can’t even process a single thought as I wrap my mouth around hers, forcing breaths back into her lungs. Even though I’m trying to keep her body warm, it feels like I’m stealing the heat.

I alternate between trying to kick-start her heart and forcing her to breathe. Everything is in slow motion. For four years, I’ve watched their every move. For two years, I’ve memorized every feature of her face. For a week, I’ve tried to replay her voice in my head just so I don’t forget the sound.

I don’t even realize we’re on the shore. Hands grasp at my shoulders, trying to pull me away, but I don’t budge. It’s crazy what adrenaline can do to you. Then I see Sam wave over as his hands take her under the arms. Another pair of hands grab her legs as they pull her from beneath me and run her up the beach. I don’t hesitate in following, watching Sam take over compressions whilst Moe grabs me and hands me my clothes. I push him to the side so I can watch her.

“Just fucking breathe.” I snap, collapsing to my knees and taking over the rescue breaths. As my mouth wraps hers, my fingers holding her chin up, her back arches and she begins to sputter. I recoil when water hits my face as she spits. For once, I don’t want to beat someone to a bloody pulp for the action. Her chest heaves with vomit as Sam rolls her onto her side.

Sitting back on my heels I allow my medical team to pull her onto a gurney and hurl her towards the medical vehicle. Sam collapses into the sand, gathering his breath through gagged coughs.

“Make sure you cuff her when she's stable!” I yell at the team. My voice is broken, sounding like my vocal cords have gone through a grinder.

I press my palms to my temples, trying to fight back the images of my father’s body limp in my hands as his blood stained my clothes.

“Cas?” My name comes but I barely register the startled small voice that mumbles it. Moe’s hand wraps around my shoulder, giving me a shake before he’s barking orders like he’s the soddin’ boss. I don’t know whether I’m proud or shocked, but something warms just as quickly as it chills. I brought him out here to let him watch the boat come in. He was going to leave before it hit shore. My goal was to observe until I had her in my hands. The problem was seeing unplanned circumstances unfold in front of my face.

Heated blankets line my broad shoulders, finally urging me to open my eyes only to lock onto squinted gray ones. I glance back at Sam covered head to toe in soot, ash and now sand.

“Cas. You need to go get checked.”

“Help Sam.” I push at Moes hands. Bustling bodies blur from the smoke pushing onto the shore, search crews just now taking action into the water. I stand, every inch of my skin freezing enough my teeth chatter. Women and men search bodies that have surfaced on the sand, others standing in complete shock at what happened. Moe stands motionless, pulling his mouth into a tight line.

“I said I’m fine. Go and help Sam.” My eyes narrow in his direction forcing him into action. I brace my arm around Sam's waist, he mirrors the movement.

“We need to get to the infirmary.” I say quietly against the burn in my lungs. We make our way through the swarm of chaos. Sam coughs and sputters, spitting thick black mucus into the dunes. He brushes his arm against his nose with a sniff. It’s logical to get a workup, but I just want to… I look into the distance where the high raised stone walls surround my base.

“I want a missile count and anyone who wasn’t accounted for on this beach to be questioned. We know we didn’t do it, but just to be sure, cover the bases.” I take a shuddering breath feeling a dryness coat my throat.

“If you do find someone responsible, they’re to come to me directly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure my little shark is still fucking breathing actual air and not water.”

“Moe.” I pause looking at the destruction behind. I can't fix it right now and Sam is so quiet besides his hoarse breathing, I know I need to get him checked.

“Yes sir.”

I grunt at how fast Moe drops Sam's weight and sprints away. The ground even beneath our feet, the chill of the wind blocked from the large walls. The large infirmary block has bodies rushing in and out of the sliding doors.

“Almost there.”

I earn a grunt in response.

As soon as we get through the threshold medics latch onto our bodies, yelling orders at each other separating soldiers into areas where they can be treated. A wall of doors has doctors rushing through each one to tend to the more serious cases.

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