Chapter 34
THEO
“The weather’s turning,” I tell Chris, pointing to the blackened clouds.
He looks up and squints. “The forecast says we have a few hours yet. We’ll do one more dive, then head back.”
I nod and start getting ready to go into the water for the second time.
The new temp, Dan, steps up to me, handing over the umbilical. “You’re going in again?”
“Captain’s orders,” I say, checking my knife is secure and tightening the straps on my cylinders. I watch him as he makes sure the umbilical line is secure. “Remember all the signals?” I ask.
“Yeah, I worked for the coastguard when I was in my early twenties, hard to forget.” He smiles kindly. He looks about fifty. I’m about to ask what else he’s done since then, when Chris calls out to me to get into position.
I nod to Dan, grinning. “I’m trusting you to pull me back up if the weather turns to shit.”
“Yes, sir,” he salutes, and I move to sit on the edge of the boat. When Chris gives the go-ahead, I roll backwards into the frigid water and let my body adjust to the temperature.
The minutes go by quickly, and when I next check my watch, my half hour is almost done. I make sure everything is secure, and tug on the lifeline four times. A few seconds go by, but nothing happens. I count to sixty in my head and tug four times again. Still nothing.
Thinking maybe the line’s caught on something, I follow it as I swim towards the surface, kicking my legs, fighting against the ache in my limbs that seems determined to drag me back down.
As I get closer, I realise what the issue might be.
It remains dark where I’d usually start to see the sunlight, and the water has taken on a frantic edge, pushing and pulling, demanding more from me than I have the energy for.
I’m almost at the surface when the slack in the lifeline suddenly goes taught, and I’m yanked to the side so suddenly, I choke on a breath. I pull the rope numerous times to let them know I’ve been under too long and I need help to get to the surface, but there’s still no response.
I look up to gauge the distance to the surface, thinking I might just about make it if I push myself, but when I try to swim up again, another surge comes, dragging my body left and right, pulling me further down. I try to stay calm, but my heart is galloping and my head is pounding.
Making a last desperate attempt, I pull on the rope again. It gives completely, as though …
Fuck.
Taking a deep breath just as the air supply cuts off, I swap to my pony cylinder, putting the mouthpiece in and biting down to hold it in place.
The boat is still above me. Weighing my options, I realise I only have six minutes of air, and it’ll take about four minutes to get to the surface unhindered, but if I swim too fast, I risk decompression sickness.
There’s no other option, though, so despite the risks, I push myself as hard as I can, reaching for the surface.
The sea becomes more tumultuous, throwing me around like a rag doll.
My muscles burn as I try to push up against everything that’s trying to hold me down.
I finally break the surface and spit my mouthpiece out, gasping in the fresh air.
It only lasts for a second before a wave hits me and I’m dragged back under, then up again.
I try to orient myself by finding the boat, then make slow progress towards it, my body threatening to give out with every stroke.
Finally, I see the ladder at the back of the boat.
I think one of the crew is standing there watching me, but he isn’t moving.
There’s no life ring thrown to me, no rope …
he isn’t even turning around to tell the rest of the crew that I’m here.
I realise it’s the temp, and call out to him, but another wave crashes into me and shoves me straight against the ladder.
My head thwacks into the metal, and I blindly grab for the rungs to hold myself still.
When I look back up, Dan’s gone, and I wonder if I’d imagined him watching me.
I can’t pull myself out of the water or call for help. My body gives out. A violent stabbing pain shoots through my head, and I sink back under.