Page 21 of Leveling

Chapter 15

Luna’s descentwas terrifying and exhilarating. There wasn’t enough time to think of anything but, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, and then, splash! And down through the water. It was a perfect slice, feet first, no slap. She was super proud of her form, and hoped Beckett had seen it, had marveled at it. Maybe he would even jump in too, now that he saw how easy it was. She pulled to the surface following the fizzing, sparkling bubbles, and, “Phweshaw!” into air. The water temperature was cool. The best part was that she was right, itwasrefreshing.

She turned to look up at the Outpost, treading. Where was Beckett? Not at the edge or even back from the edge.

She swam to her paddleboard and draped her arms across, kicking her legs for a few minutes. “Hello Tree, Boosy, Steve. Did you see my jump? Marvelous, right?”

She waited, but Beckett didn’t come through the cavernous room. Where was he? Completely uninterested in her plunge—really? She had thought it was more spectacular than that. She had also believed him to be more interested.

She backstroked about twenty feet away from the Outpost to have another look, then swam to the opening, splashed across the floor, climbed the stairs, and pushed through the rooftop door.

She shook her head flinging water everywhere as she stepped into the sun. Her eyes adjusted. Beckett was in the middle of the rooftop doubled over in a chair.

“Beckett?”

His shoulders rose and fell in jerks. His head drooped. She rushed to his side and dropped to her knees, “Beckett?” She peered up into his face.

His eyes were screwed shut. “Can’t….breathe…can’t...” His face had turned even more pale.

“Oh, oh,” she glanced around looking for something—but what?

“Beckett, look me in the eyes, Beckett!”

He pulled his head up. His eyes were open but rolling back, showing white, panicked.

“Beckett, match my breathing, please, can you hear me, match my breaths.”

He nodded once, tried to match her breath for a couple, then groaned and doubled back down over his knees.

“Beckett you need to lie down.” She pulled him by his arms, rolling him down to the ground. Then, because he landed on his side, shoved him to his back.

He pulled his arm over his eyes to block the direct sun.

She crawled to his feet, lifted his legs to her lap and unbuckled his sandals, tossing them to the side. She pressed her thumbs hard into the bottom of his feet, right at the pad.

He groaned.

“It hurts?”

He nodded.

“Good, it’s supposed to.” She rubbed with constant pressure up to his toes. And did it again. And again.

Gradually Beckett’s breathing calmed and became regular again.

She kept rubbing.

After a long, long time she asked, “You okay?”

He nodded, but remained quiet.

She patted his shins all-done and crawled up, slumping down beside the length of him, arm to arm, staring at the sky. She halfheartedly slapped his arm. “Dude, you scared me.”

“Serves you right.”

Then he said, “I can’t believe I’m so freaking weak and scared.”

Luna said, “Youvolunteered.”

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