Page 57 of Scoring the Player

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“I just told you, they lost the ship.”

The man dives into the water.

“My bad. What else happened?”

He braces for a rough wave. I look around to see if anyone else is seeing this, but besides a group a good distance away sitting around a bonfire, the beach is empty. His head disappears under the water. Crazy fucker.

“So, after the Martians took the L, they retreated, right? But the Saturnians didn’t realize they activated stealth explosives before they left.”

“That’s the same stuff that wiped out Atlas Station?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Damn.”

“Yep. Remember the captain who went with her gut and stood down to prevent the battle with Mars?”

How long can someone hold their breath underwater?

I climb to my feet and move to the edge of the shoreline.

I bounce back. “Hell, that’s cold.”

“What’s cold?”

I scan the area where the man disappeared. “How long can someone hold their breath underwater?”

“I dunno. Why?”

“This guy just…” I move forward, cursing under my breath as needles prick my feet as the icy water washes over them. I lean forward, searching.

Nothing.

This isn’t my problem.

I step back and say, “Never mind. Continue.”

I start to turn away when I hear Carter’s voice,“…fuckin’ coward.”

My feet plant in the wet sand.

I’m not a coward.If the man wants to kill himself, let him kill himself.

“…fucking coward.”

Both voices lock me in place until the echo of one drowns out the other.

My chest caves.

“Let me call you back.”

Fuck,fuck, fuck, that’s cold.

Imagine it’s an ice bath.

I-it’s j-just an i-ice bath.

I swim toward the spot where the guy went under.

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