6. Caleb
SIX
Caleb
I held the bar as the helicopter pitched hard right. Fuck. Nights like this when the storms popped up, I questioned people’s sanity, mainly mine.
We didn’t know the reason the boat was out, only that it was our job to save lives.
I gave the pilot a thumbs up to let him know I was still holding on and clipped into the chopper. Gabe was in the seat next to me leaning out the open side. We scanned the water for the boat that made the distress call. The coordinates had been guesses and there weren’t reliable landmarks. We were flying blind for the search and rescue mission.
The spotlight kept a steady hold on the water. We didn’t miss or jump over any surface area.
Gabe signaled he saw something and pulled the radio receiver to his mouth. The Brady circled back around just as another streak of lightning crawled across the sky.
I closed my eyes. It won’t be like last time. It won’t be like last time.
Gabe fist-bumped me. “You good, man?”
I nodded. He hadn’t stopped bugging me since my last mission. I needed to get it out of my head and focus on this rescue. As the helicopter lowered the spotlight hit a mark on the water. Holy shit. The boat was nearly fully submerged. On the bow was a man, a woman, and their two kids. I couldn’t tell what kind of vessel it had been, the sea was taking it as her own now. Not a single member of the family was wearing a life jacket. Shit.
We had minutes if we were lucky before she sank and took all four of them down with her. The force of the undertow would make it impossible for them to navigate. A good swimmer didn’t have a chance. An excellent swimmer could possibly survive the jarring, disorienting throttle that kind of water pressure would cause.
I grabbed the radio. “We have to go now! Let’s go. Station here, Brady.”
I grabbed inflatable vests and attached them to my swim vest. I unclipped from the seat harness while Gabe prepared next to me. We had been trained at the best academy in the world. We would go for the kids first, the mom second, and last the dad. If we could, we’d pile both kids in the rescue basket and give ourselves time to secure the parents to one of the belts.
Brady lowered us close to the boat. It was a direct drop-down and then a 50-meter swim toward the vessel.
There was a peel of thunder loud enough to break through the incessant hum of the chopper. Damn it. The storm was getting stronger. The more rough surf, the more unstable the boat became in the water. I wondered if our minutes had turned into seconds.
“Let’s go. Now.”
I fastened the goggles snugly to my face before I saluted Gabe, tucked my arms against my chest, and dropped into the ocean. The fins helped break the surface with less impact. It was a rush and shock all at once. I bobbed up to the top of the water and followed the spotlight toward the boat. The blades of the chopper created another force against the water, but Brady knew to hover farther away while we grabbed the kids. He was struggling to control the drift of the chopper with unannounced gusts of wind from the storm. The rain fell at a hard slant.
No matter what was going on in the sky, I had to get the kids. As I swam closer, I heard screams. The dad waved his hands in the air. We had to get everyone off the bow. The suction would drown all four of them.
I approached the boat. The rain hit my face, sliding down the lenses of my goggles. Gabe was a few strokes behind.
“Help! Help us. We’re going to die!” the woman screamed.
“Listen, we’re going to get all four of you up on the chopper. Ok?” I yelled as forcefully as I could. “First, everyone has to get in the water before the boat goes completely under.”
I saw the way Gabe assessed them. The family was frantic. Desperate.
“Just come get us off of here,” the father ordered. “Get us and we’ll take the kids with us.”
Shit. There was nothing calm or mildly convincing that they were going to listen to us.
“Our pilot is going to lower down the basket. We’ll put the kids in first. Then you.”
The dad yelled. “We’ll go with them.”
Gabe turned to me, trying to wipe some of the water from his mask. It made it hard to see or focus. “Maybe we just go for the kids. Don’t ask questions.”
I nodded. “We don’t have time to explain it to them.”
We counted off to three then dove under the water. It was the only place that gave the illusion of calm. From under here I couldn’t hear the raging storm or the whir of the helicopter. I couldn’t hear the parents screaming or the children crying.
I felt the tug of pressure against my chest as I neared the boat. The only reason she was still floating was there had to be enough air in the cabin keeping her upright. With another crash of a wave, all that air would rush out and take the boat under.
I broke through the surface, forcing nearly my entire body out of the water, and wrapped my arms around the first small body I could. The girl screamed as I hauled her from her parents.
“Hold on to me. Do not let go,” I told her. I fitted an inflatable life vest over her head and tugged the cap off so it would automatically inflate. Then I took off toward the rescue basket.
Fletcher was at the top of the pully. He waved to me as I lowered the crying girl into the center. Gabe was right behind me the boy. We clipped them in and then waved to Fletcher to haul them up.
The basket ascended into the sky. We had to go back for the parents.
I didn’t stop swimming. I kicked and pulled the water back as I broke through the current. I made it to the boat before Gabe, so I looked up at them. It was my job to grab the mom first. I didn’t like that from this angle I thought the boat was even lower in the water.
“Mom, come on.” I motioned to her to jump. “I’ve got you and Officer Axton will get you, Dad. We need to get away before the boat’s haul sucks us under. Come on. Just jump.”
She nodded at me. I reached my arms up toward the sky. Lightning flickered, but it wasn’t the woman who landed in the water. It was the massive form of the man. He jumped on top of me, scrambling and jerking, shoving me under the surface.
His foot kicked me in the nose as I fought to rise back up and put him in a pretzel lock. Fuck. The sting nearly knocked me out. I saw stars and black dots. I broke through the waves and gasped for air, using my flippers to keep me above water.
“I’m not going to die,” he screamed.
“If you keep this up, you might,” I barked. I was pissed he had nearly taken us both out.
Gabe was right behind us. “Mother fucker,” he yelled.
The father’s panic then transferred to Gabe, and he lunged at him. Gabe knew it was coming and was able to move out of the way. I twisted the dad’s arm behind his back, holding him in place to keep him from thrashing.
“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to drown,” he cried.
“Sir, we’re taking you to the chopper. You’ve got to stop. Your kids are up there watching you,” I told him.
He sobbed as Gabe pulled him against the side of his body.
“Go!” I told him. “I’ll get the mom.”
“I’ve got him,” Gabe responded. He took off, swimming with the tightest hold I’ve ever seen on a rescue. I turned back to the woman on the bow.
There was no telling what was going through her mind after her husband had jumped in front of her.
“Let’s go. I’ve got you. Come on, jump!”
Her eyes were wide. I didn’t know if it was the horror of the entire night. Watching her husband decide he should be rescued first. Seeing her children tugged away from her. But she froze. She didn’t move.
I was going to have to get closer than I wanted. I felt the pressure building around my legs. The force was getting stronger beneath the surface.
“Come on. I’ve got you. I promise. I’ll keep you safe. Just jump,” I hollered. I saw the fear in her eyes. The absolute terror of what I was asking her to do. “Please, I won’t let you go.”
She nodded. I saw her knees bend, prepared to jump overboard.
“That’s it,” I yelled. “You’ve got it. Jump away from the boat. As far as you can, ma’am. I’ll get you to your kids.”
The fear in her eyes turned to determination. My chest loosened with relief. She was going to do it. She was ready.
I didn’t know what happened first. She jumped, or the boat began to shift again. Before she was in my arms, the suction gripped my ankles as if tentacles had reached up from the bottom of the ocean.
I kicked as hard as I could to resist the force of the vortex. I couldn’t lose sight of the mom. She slipped below, succumbing to the funnel that had been created when the boat went under.
She disappeared beneath the water. Shit. I dove after her, racing against the ocean, against the current, against the turbulence the storm created. I swam hard and fast, knowing I might not find her, and I might now make it back up.