Waves of fury, p.8
Waves of Fury, page 8
Plus, doing this task will keep my mind off other things like the demise of my brothers. I barely slept more than ten minutes straight last night because nightmares of seeing my brothers’ bodies floating in the water kept waking me up.
If there’s any silver lining in this, it’s that I didn’t have to watch them die.
The ache in my chest resurfaces, but one look at Kyle’s determined features has me remembering our task at hand.
Food. Water. First aid.
We can do this.
“Again,” Frannie says, gesturing at her three students—me, Kyle, and Brian. “Hope, start counting now.”
As instructed, we all four suck in a lungful of breath while Hope counts out loud for us. Frannie explained earlier that the average person can hold their breath thirty to sixty seconds. But Navy SEALs/BUDs and trained divers can hold their breaths much longer—typically around three to five minutes. Even some well-known celebrities can hold their breaths upward of six or seven minutes. Knowing that it’s possible helps and with her tips and suggestions, I’ve managed to squeeze more time in my own breath holding.
While we all listen to the steady cadence of Hope’s counting, I consider the plan again. Brian thinks it shouldn’t take us any more than about twenty seconds if we swim fast from the moment we dive in the submerged stairwell to make it through the doorway, down the hallway, and into the break room. Once we get there, we all have our different tasks. Kyle and Brian will break into the vending machine to take any snacks they can get their hands on, I’ll stuff my now-empty backpack with as much bottled water as I can, and Frannie will hunt down the first aid kit that is supposed to be housed under the sink.
We get in and we get out.
Easy.
But our travel time there and back is approximately forty seconds, which leaves another twenty-forty seconds for us to grab what we need. There’s not much room for error.
I gasp for air as soon as Hope says “eighty-seven,” meaning I’m good for about close to a minute and a half. Frannie goes next, a few seconds after me, and then Brian holds out until after the two-minute mark with Kyle right behind him. My lungs already ache, but we can only prepare so much before we just need to get it over with.
“If anything happens,” Kellen says, “get out of there. Forget the provisions and help your partner. No one gets left behind.”
We all solemnly nod our understanding. I adjust my empty backpack to wear in front of me. It’s already half unzipped, too. So as not to slow us down, we’ve all stripped down to our underwear and lost our shoes. It’s pretty awkward, especially seeing Frannie half-naked, but we can’t have anything, even clothes or shoes, taking precious seconds off our dive.
“It’s now or never,” I state to the others in my diving mission. “Let’s go.”
Kellen holds my gaze for a long moment and then gives me a grim smile. Everyone is counting on us to get the supplies we need. I feel like we can do this. We just have to be careful.
“Brian and Kyle, lead the way,” I say as we all descend down the stairs and splash into the water. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Kyle holds the flashlight and turns it on. He gives us each a quick glance and then he’s sucking in a huge breath. Brian does the same. They’re both gone in an instant. Frannie inhales deeply at the same time I do. We both dive into the water, her in front and me pulling up the rear.
At first, it’s alarming to swim in the darkness of the stairwell, but the bouncing beam of light gives me something to follow. Hastily, me and Frannie follow after the others. Kyle and Brian make quick work of opening the door before pushing their bodies through it. Once we make it through the doorway of the destination floor, I realize there’s much more light than in the stairwell. A quick look around me and it’s clear that all the glass on two sides of this floor are completely gone. Furniture has been sucked out too.
Rather than staring at the spooky scene for too long, I swim after Frannie down a hallway that remains standing. We pass an office door and then make our way into a large break room. Brian and Kyle are already at the vending machine, figuring out the best way to break inside. Frannie darts over to a cabinet and starts yanking doors open. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but my lungs are already starting to ache.
By the third cabinet door, she hits gold. Two cases of water are sitting on the shelves untouched. I swim past her to tear into the plastic. Together, we quickly start yanking bottles from the case and shoving them into my backpack.
A submerged shout draws my attention. Jerking my head over my shoulder, I see Brian holding his arm to his chest as thick ribbons of blood dance around him. The glass is broken on the vending machine and Brian apparently took on an injury in the process. The first aid kit is a definite necessity at this point.
I point toward the hallway, motioning for him to resurface. With a grim nod, he swims away, the cloud of blood thick as it trails behind him. Once me and Frannie have stuffed my bag as much as we can, she heads for the sink while I swim to help Kyle. Snacks are floating all around him as he attempts to gather them in his arms. I manage to unzip the front pocket of my backpack so I can start cramming any bags of chips or candy bars I can into it.
My lungs are no longer aching but full-on hurting at this point. I’m going to have to get the hell out of here soon. Frannie taps my shoulder from behind and thrusts a trash bag at me. Kyle takes it to use for holding more snacks. Her hands are empty of a first aid kit.
She points farther down the hallway. Perhaps there’s a supply room or something. I give her a nod and then she zips out the doorway and to the left. I motion to Kyle that I have to leave, but he continues stuffing the trash bag without looking at me.
Kicking away from the vending machine, I swim toward the doorway. I glance left toward the dark hallway but don’t see Frannie. I can hear what sounds like a muffled scream to my right and thrashing catches my eye. I start swimming toward where Brian must be but can’t find him in a cloud of blood.
Fuck.
How bad was that cut?
Did he hit an artery?
I wave away the blood, hoping to see him, trying desperately to ignore the way my lungs feel as though they’re seizing up in pain.
Nothing.
A shadow darts by.
I’m staring after it when someone’s hand bumps into me. Brian materializes from the blood cloud, pale and lifeless. His dead eyes remain open, as does his mouth. It’s then I realize more than just his arm is bleeding. He’s missing a huge chunk from his leg.
What the fuck?
The shadow darts by again, this time connecting with Brian’s middle. A tailfin knocks into me as the shadow turns sharply and darts away, prey in its jaws.
A shark.
A motherfucking shark.
I’m about to dart for the stairwell when the creature appears again, meat dangling from its ferocious teeth. It starts for me but then turns away before attacking Brian’s body once more. In a panic, I swim back down the hallway. Kyle is no longer in the break room. And where’s Frannie? I keep swimming until I make it into the opened door of a closet.
Something grabs my arm and I scream, expelling the rest of the air from my lungs. Before I can freak the fuck out and suck in a lungful of water, I’m dragged to the ceiling of the small space.
An air pocket.
I gasp for air in the tiny sliver of space, eyes locking on Frannie. We both have to tilt our heads up to barely keep our noses and mouths above the water.
“S-Shark,” I croak out, suddenly aware of my treading water while a creature lurks about. “It got Brian.”
Frannie whimpers. “A shark? How?”
Because the world thought we needed to be fucked with a little bit more apparently.
“We have to find Kyle and get the hell out of here,” I say instead. “Did you find the first aid kit?”
I feel her bump something into my hands. I grab onto the small plastic box, relieved to have it in my grasp.
“Anything we can use for a weapon?” I ask, accidentally sucking in some seawater that makes me gag. “Fuck.”
She nods before disappearing. A second later, she reemerges in our tight airspace and shows me the top of a wooden handle. Most likely it’s a mop or a broom.
“Stay behind me,” I instruct. “I’ll fight it off if it comes near us. No matter what happens, I want you to swim like hell to the stairwell.”
“Ok-kay,” she stammers. “What about Kyle?”
“If we see him, we grab him. Otherwise, we need to get back and regroup.”
“On three?”
“On three.”
She hands me the wooden handle and I trade it for the first aid kit. After we count off, we suck in air before submerging ourselves. I swim out the door of the supply closet, careful to look up and down the hallway first. Kicking my legs hard, I dart past the break room that remains empty. My broom—as I’ve learned since going under—is held out in front of me, ready to be used as a weapon.
Still no Kyle.
The water remains hazy with blood when I return to the area I last saw Brian. Rather than swim through it and risk running into the shark, I swim along the wall toward the open stairwell door.
Before I reach it, the dark shadow whizzes in front of me through the door. I stop swimming and tread water, glancing over at Frannie. Her eyes are wide with panic. Before we figure out what to do next, the shark thrashes its way back through the doorway, its tail fin slamming into the doorframe on its way out. It disappears and then charges for me. I raise the broom up and attempt to stab it as it nears. It skirts past me, crashing into the wall and grazing me as it passes.
Groaning and crumbling sounds resound all around me a second before the water goes cloudy gray. Concrete scrapes along my outer arm, causing me to cry out in pain. When I twist around to look for Frannie, I can’t find her.
The wall must’ve come down.
Fuck.
Something touches my leg and I jerk away from it. It touches me again, encircling my ankle. It’s a human hand. I break free and then dive deeper to find the source. When I see Frannie, I nearly sob in relief. But only for a second.
A huge hunk of concrete crushes her leg to the floor. I let go of the broom to try to move the heavy piece off her. It won’t budge.
No!
I start frantically trying to yank it off to no avail. Panic and lack of oxygen have my vision turning dark. We’re so screwed.
Frannie grabs my jaw and forces me to look at her. Then she hands me the first aid kit. I shake my head in vehemence, but she’s already pointing toward the stairwell for me to go.
I can’t leave her.
We already lost Brian. We can’t lose her too.
“Go!” she yells underwater, expelling the last of her breath.
She hits me with her fists in an effort to get me to leave until her arms grow weak and then float around her. Open, lifeless eyes stare back at me.
I consider giving up right now.
Just suck in water and give in to my fate.
We’re never going to survive this shit. Our lives are over. Why keep fighting it?
Kellen will be so upset to have lost two of his employees.
Will he be upset to lose me too?
Yes.
Plus, he still owes me a mega tip.
I attempt one more time to push the concrete off Frannie but fail. With the last of my energy, I swim toward the stairwell. A swell of water surges through the building as I’m going through the doorway. The door slams against my lower back, making everything go black for a moment.
When I come to, I’m disoriented and unsure where I’m at. With no air left and my vision tunneled, I swim in the direction of where I think I can escape the stairs and grab some air.
I almost make it.
So close.
Then I stupidly suck in a breath, but it’s not oxygen.
It’s water and I’m fucked.
Everything goes black for good this time.
Kellen
“What’s taking them so long?” I demand when Kyle slaps a trash bag onto the cement floor beside Barb. “They should be back by now. Hope, how long has it been?”
Kyle, exhausted and heaving with exertion, just groans instead of answering me. Hope frowns at me, telling me my answer.
Too long.
Not long enough for them to survive.
I wince as I make my way down the stairs. The water laps over my dress shoes as I ponder if I need to try to go after them or not. Maybe I can save them.
Hope squeezes my shoulder before sloshing into the water in front of me. “I’m going in.”
“I’m going with you,” I grunt, forcing myself to step into the water that’s been trying its hardest to kill me for nearly twenty-four hours now.
I may not be able to swim, but nothing is going to stop me at this point, not even the fear of drowning.
Upon seeing the determination on my face, she gives me a quick nod and then dips below the surface. I take a deep breath and then also submerge myself. Hope swims quickly away from me, sending bubbles fluttering in front of my face. It takes a second to adjust my eyes and when I do, I freeze.
There’s a body halfway sticking out of the stairwell door.
Tyler.
My heart tightens in my chest as I push off the steps toward the door. Hope pulls Tyler through the opening before handing him to me. Then she disappears through the doorway. I hook my arms around Tyler’s waist, dragging him up the stairwell toward the air. When I finally resurface, lungs burning, I realize he doesn’t take a breath with me.
Fuck!
“No, no, no,” I chant as I heft him up the steps and out of the water. “Stay with me, Tyler.”
His skin is pale and he seems so young in this moment. A sob crawls its way up my throat at the unfairness of this entire situation. He wasn’t supposed to die like this.
I force the panic away and start chest compressions. In high school, I learned CPR my senior year, and I’m trying desperately to remember the motions. When I decide I’ve done enough compressions, I blow air into his lungs and then start over again.
I’ve failed him.
I’m the fucking boss around here and I should have been the one to go down there or stop them. Instead, I let four of our people go and only one has come back breathing.
“Please,” I beg, choking on tears. “Please breathe.”
I can sense others near me, but I don’t dare look at them. I’m too focused on trying to resurrect Tyler from the dead.
Hope reemerges from the water, cursing and crying, drops a plastic first aid box onto the cement, and then she heaves Tyler’s backpack down beside it. She kneels next to me, fingers feeling for a pulse at Tyler’s throat, and shakes her head.
With a roar of frustration, I beat my fist hard on the center of Tyler’s chest and then my lips are back on his, forcing air into his stubborn body.
He twitches.
Then gurgling resounds from his chest before he vomits seawater out. Elation surges through me as Hope helps me turn him onto his side. He continues to heave out an endless amount of water, his entire body convulsing. I stroke my fingers through his hair, whispering assurances that he’s not alone.
He’s alive.
Hope clambers to her feet and then shakily makes her way up the steps to where Kyle is lying. “You monster!”
He groans and sits up on one elbow. “What?”
“You left them there and gave us no warning!”
What the hell is she talking about?
“Brian was dead by the time I left the break room,” Kyle snaps back. “The other two were missing. Was I supposed to die looking for them?”
Hope swings her fist, clipping Kyle in the jaw. He jumps to his feet, fisting his hands, but thankfully, Gerry steps between them.
“Enough,” Gerry barks. “This entire thing is fucked, but it’s no one’s fault.” To Kyle, he says, “Did he drown?”
Tyler starts to softly cry and it breaks my fucking heart. I half pull him into my lap, ignoring the searing pain in my side. I’m sure it’s bleeding like crazy again, but holding him right now is more important. He nearly died.
“Shh,” I croon, voice shaking. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
He clutches onto me, burying his head into my shoulder. I stroke my fingers up and down his bare back as I attempt to keep up with the conversation going on with the others.
“Does it matter how?” Kyle throws back. “He’s dead.” Elise starts crying hysterically, which earns the wrath of Kyle. “Shut the fuck up, Elise! You’re useless, goddammit!”
Hope flings herself at him again, but Gerry grabs hold of her before she can do any damage. She points an accusing finger at him.
“I saw his half-eaten body!” Hope screams at him. “There was a shark down there and we didn’t get so much as a warning!”
Kyle has the decency to look ashamed. His brow furrows and he glances down at his feet. “I wasn’t sure what I saw. I saw blood and Brian was dead.”
“There was a shark,” Tyler croaks out, breath hot against the side of my neck. “I saw it. It attacked Brian.”
My stomach roils violently, threatening to purge what little food I have in it. “And Frannie?”
Tyler shakily sits up so his bloodshot eyes can meet mine. His bottom lip wobbles as he shakes his head.
“No,” I whisper. “Frannie can’t be gone.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and shudders at the memories plaguing him. “She got pinned. I wasn’t strong enough.” He reopens his eyes, darting them back and forth as if trying to get me to understand. “I tried. I really tried, Kellen.”
Pain lances through me at the loss of one of my only friends. But having this young man break apart in my arms distracts me from my grief.
“It’s okay,” I stammer out. “You did good. You’re still here.”
His body relaxes against mine. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. Come on. Let’s get you back up top and warmed up.”
