Page 5 of Deep Waters

On the count of three, they gave another heave.

This time, the sea worked in their favour. As they pulled, a large wave surged along the side of the boat, lifting the man upwards. Instinctively, Christian snatched the advantage, pulling the man higher until he grabbed his belt. Tom made similar gains, and with another mammoth heave, they hauled him over the railing and onto the deck.

Christian feared he was already dead, but his knowledge of first aid and his instinct to save a life kicked in.

“Get blankets, towels…anything we can use to warm him up,” he shouted at Tom.

As the younger man hurried inside, Christian checked his vital signs. He grabbed the man’s wrist, searching for a pulse while putting his cheek close to his mouth, hoping to discern a tell-tale breath. There was nothing. He did not give up. Hypothermia would cause the body to shut down, but it didn’t mean the man was finished yet. He appeared young, in his early-to-mid-twenties and strong.

He wore a black padded jacket. It was completely waterlogged. It would have to come off if they were to stand any chance of warming him up. Christian reached for the zipper. His own fingers were numb with cold, and it took three attempts to get a grip and pull it down.

Harry came out of the cabin with a bundle of blankets and a first-aid kid. Christian looked up and saw Tom had taken the wheel. It made sense. With a background in the lifeboat service, Harry would be better equipped than any of them to help this man.

“Any vital signs?” he asked, kneeling beside Christian.

“None that I can make out.” He still struggled with the zipper and had only got it down as far as the chest.

Harry pressed his fingers in the crease of the man’s neck while Christian used two hands to pull the zipper of his jacket down.

“There’s something. I think. It’s faint, but I can feel a pulse.” Harry spread out the blankets. “Let’s get the jacket off and try to warm him up.”

Christian unfastened the zipper completely and peeled back the waterlogged sides of his jacket. The man wore a grey T-shirt. At first glance, he thought the red stain across the abdomen was part of a design but only for a second. He eased the bottom of the T-shirt away from his skin.

“He’s bleeding,” he cried, lifting the garment to expose the full extent of the wound. There was a two-inch laceration above and to the right of the man’s navel. The wound was clean, and the cold water must have stopped the worst of the bleeding, but as he watched, bright red blood rose to the surface and spilt over.

Christian slapped his hands on top of the injury and pressed down hard.

Harry tore into the first-aid pack and handed him a fresh dressing. “Use this. Apply as much pressure as you can.” He turned and shouted to Tom. “Radio an update. Tell them the casualty is alive but in serious condition. Abdominal injury. He’s lost an unknown amount of blood and is displaying advanced hypothermia.”

Christian’s hands were already red when he lifted them to apply the thick pad and pressed down again. “I think… I think he’s been stabbed. It’s a knife wound.”

Harry’s expression was grim. “It sure looks that way. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Displaying incredible strength, Harry eased the man’s shoulders from the deck and whipped the sodden coat out from under him. One-handed, he slung a blanket around him and eased him down. He laid a towel across his chest and, after checking his limbs for further wounds, covered his lower body with another blanket. Returning to the head, he opened one of the man’s eyes with his thumb.

“Niko,” he shouted. “Niko, can you hear me?” There was no response. Harry pressed his cheek close to the man’s mouth, checking for breath like Christian had done. “Niko, you’re safe now. We’re heading in. We’ll have you ashore soon.”

“You know who he is?” Christian asked, impressed by Harry’s calm, commanding behaviour. Christian could barely keep his own nerves under control, but the attitude of the young captain kept him focused.

“Yes…Niko,” he said, cradling the man’s head. “He works at one of the bars in town.”

Christian looked down at his hands. There was blood everywhere. “He’s losing a lot,” he said, keeping his voice low in case, by some miracle, Niko could hear him.

“The lifeboat is coming,” Tom hollered from the wheelhouse. “Just leaving the harbour walls.”

“It won’t be long now,” Harry said, soothing the unconscious man’s brow. “Help is on the way.”

Christian glanced at Niko’s face. His pallor was ghastly. He pressed harder on his abdomen in a desperate effort to stop him from losing any more blood. He looked so young. It was difficult to gauge with his grey skin and lips, but he could only be in his early twenties.Just a boy. Who the hell could have done this? Christian was no expert, but he was sure the boy had been stabbed. That was the only explanation for the neatness of the wound. It was impossible for him to have sustained such a clean injury as a result of falling into the sea. When the police examined the jacket, he had no doubt they would find a similar straight cut. The padding might even have prevented the blade from inflicting greater damage, not that it looked like it had done him much good. They might have rescued him from the water, but the boy was in deep trouble.

Christian was aware of the boat slowing down again and the sound of an approaching engine.

Harry eased Niko’s head to the deck and clambered to his feet. “You’re doing brilliantly,” he told Christian. “Keep it up. I’ll be right back.”

He hurried to the railing and reached over as the lifeboat came alongside. The two boats ran parallel to each other, matching their speed. One of the crew, dressed in a waterproof uniform and wearing a safety helmet, stood on the side of the lifeboat, preparing to jump. It was a perilous manoeuvre, as the swell caused the two boats to rise and fall dramatically. One second, the lifeboat appeared to be ten feet above them and the next it had disappeared from sight.

At that moment, Christian realised that their efforts were in vain.

Niko’s blood had stopped pulsing through his fingers. He knew the boy had gone but did not release his hold, clinging to the hope that he was wrong and the lifeboat crew could do something…anything.

In the fraction of a second that the two boats came in line, the rescuer leapt across, grabbing onto the railing. Harry helped them onboard. Christian heard him filling the new arrival in on the situation. The figure crouched beside Christian. He couldn’t make out a single feature beneath the bright yellow waterproofs and helmet.

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