12. Nate
Nate
My shout rang in the air, but I wasn’t sure anyone heard it in the chaos.
The cold hit like a concrete slab against my body.
Every muscle in my body seized so violently it felt as though invisible cables had cinched themselves around my ribs, squeezing the air from my lungs.
My mouth opened on instinct, desperate to inhale, but years of training immediately kicked in.
Inhaling cold water would be a fatal mistake.
I locked my throat instead, jaw clamping hard, and focused on my breathing.
Don’t breathe.
The thought wasn’t even conscious. It had been drilled into me through thousands of swim lessons and then later competitive swimming.
At sixteen, to prove how ‘tough’ I was, I had swum across the English Channel.
I knew what cold and exhaustion felt like.
I also knew that millions of repetitions can counter even the deadliest panic.
The first few seconds belong to your body.
The next belong to you.
My limbs still burned with the violent urge to thrash toward the surface, but I forced myself to ignore it. I tucked my chin, blinked against the sting in my eyes, and waited the heartbeat it took for my brain to catch up with reality.
I was surrounded by dark water. My legs finally answered when I kicked, powerful and practiced despite the shock still tearing through my chest. I kept my face above the surface, resisting the urge to waste energy fighting the sea.
By then, my brain had caught up with the fact that I’d gone overboard, but I remembered the second man who had been with me on the deck.
Landry!
I trod water, forcing slow, measured breaths despite the cold that seemed determined to crawl through every layer of skin and settle inside my bones. My eyes scanned the deck high up. Movement caught my eye.
There! Leaning over the rail, Landry was staring down at me. Even from this distance, I could see the shock and terror on his face. His eyes were impossibly wide, his mouth moving around words the water and chaos tore away before they reached me.
He reached toward me as though he could somehow bridge the impossible distance. Our eyes met, and despite it all, I smiled. Thank goodness he was safe.
Then he started climbing.
“NO!”
My voice was feeble. Damn it.
He had one leg hooked over the railing already.
“STOP!”
I threw one arm into the air, chopping it back and forth as hard as I could.
Don’t.
Stay there.
I pointed emphatically back toward the deck, yelling “No!” like a maniac.
Do not come in.
Landry hung on the precipice and looked at me. His expression twisted into something that looked heartbreakingly like determination. That absolute fool thought I was drowning.
Then he let go.
My stomach dropped. He had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t even attempt to assume a streamlined pose. He was just falling spread-eagled.
Shit.
For the briefest instant, he seemed suspended against the bright blue Antarctic night sky. Then he hit the surface with a sickening thud and disappeared into the deep black water.
The ship’s alarm wailed above me, its urgent cry carrying across the deck and out over the water. It was quickly joined by shouting.
“Man overboard!”
“Port side!”
“I’ve got visual!”
The crew had realized what had happened, just as I knew they would. It was three in the morning, but Keith had been on the third watch, and I trusted him with my life. I twisted around, searching for the spot where Landry had disappeared beneath the waves.
The cold was creeping into every molecule, and the wet jacket and boots were creating serious drag, but I had a job now. I needed to save the idiot. That helped me get my head out of my own panic.
I struck out toward him with powerful strokes. By the time I reached Landry, he erupted from the water in a fit of violent coughing, desperately trying to inhale while simultaneously choking on seawater.
The poor bastard. His arms flailed without purpose, slapping at the waves as though he could somehow push them away.
Only when I reached Landry did another danger occur to me.
We had gone over the side almost directly alongside the ship.
It rose directly out of the water, a gigantic cliff of steel that displaced thousands of tons with every movement.
I wasn’t sure where that rogue wave had come from, and it was already dispersing away, but the ship was still rocking ponderously as the ocean tried to find equilibrium again.
We were like two ants floating helplessly beside it.
I caught Landry’s shoulder before he could seize hold of me.
I knew never to approach a panicking swimmer from the front.
I slipped around to his side and then behind him, using the movement of the water rather than fighting against it.
My forearm settled securely across his chest beneath his shoulders as I tilted him onto his back, keeping his face angled toward the sky, where he had a chance of drawing air into his lungs instead of seawater.
A hundred things wanted to come out of my mouth.
What the hell were you thinking?
Why did you jump?
Instead, I kept my voice as calm and steady as I could through my chattering teeth.
“Hey.”
His eyes darted everywhere.
“I’m here,” I said evenly. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
From up above, the ship groaned as its weight shifted back the other way. I glanced at it. Too close. If another freak wave rushed at us, the ocean would simply lift us up and pin us against that massive red hull.
I kicked for the next several moments, focusing hard on getting us farther, careful not to jostle Landry too much. His breathing remained ragged, every inhale ending in another cough, and I could feel the frantic tension in every muscle as he continued trying to fight both the ocean and my grip.
Then, through another fit of coughing, he managed to force out a few broken words.
“You… are you okay?”
The question hit me harder than the freezing water and the hulking mass of death ever could.
The buffoon had thrown himself into the Southern Ocean without the faintest idea what he was doing, and he was still worried about me.
Had anyone else except maybe my parents ever done something so senselessly wonderful for me?
I couldn’t help smiling again, but of course he couldn’t see.
“All good,” I said. “Just another day in the water.”
I leaned close to his ear and spoke as clearly as I could as we both bobbed on the surface.
“Listen, handsome.”
His eyes widened. He stilled. Perfect.
“You’re panicking,” I said quietly. “If you keep thrashing around like this, you’ll wear yourself out and make it difficult for me to keep us afloat.”
I tightened my hold just enough for him to feel it.
“I’ve got you. I do this for a living, remember? Trust me, okay?”
He turned towards me, as much as the position would allow, and our eyes met again.
“I’ve got you, hero.” I winked.
He stared at me, but at least he had stopped fighting me. I could feel him beginning to help me. I nodded at the ship. “Look up there. They are already lowering the Zodiac. We’ll be out of here in no time.”
* * *
The medical bay had soft white panels with beige stripes, making the space feel inviting and relaxing.
The two examination beds stood several feet apart, with enough room for people to move comfortably around them, and were currently occupied by Landry and me.
Both Landry and I had been stripped of our wet gear and bundled into dry thermal base layers, thick fleece jackets, and enough blankets that moving my arms required conscious effort.
Keith rolled a vital signs monitor between our beds. “Let’s make sure neither of you picked up anything more exciting than a good scare,” he said.
I glanced at Landry as Keith wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Landry had been studiously avoiding my gaze since the rescue. Keith repeated the process with me. Our eyes met, and Keith raised an eyebrow at the way I had been openly staring at Landry. I shrugged and blushed.
“Either of you lose consciousness?” Keith asked.
“Nah,” I answered.
“Hit your head on the way over?”
“Not my head, but my ribs,” I admitted. “I landed on the rail.”
Keith stepped over and lifted the blankets.
He gently pressed along my ribcage, working methodically with his fingertips.
He made another note on his chart. “Probably bruised ribs, but I’d rather be certain.
I’ll order a chest X-ray once you’re warmed up, just to rule out a small fracture.
In the meantime, I’ll get you some anti-inflammatories. ”
He moved to Landry. “How about you?”
“No pain. My throat feels… rough.”
Keith gave a sympathetic wince. “I’m not surprised. You inhaled some seawater and spent several minutes coughing your lungs out. Salt water is brutal on the throat. It’ll probably feel raw for a day or two.”
“My brother okay?”
“Yes, everyone is accounted for. The captain is speaking to each crew member individually, but Dexter actually slept through the whole ordeal.” He slipped the stethoscope into his ears and motioned toward Landry. “Sit forward for me.”
Keith listened to Landry’s chest and back before removing the stethoscope. “Your lungs sound clear, and your oxygen saturation is good.”
After running through several more checks over the next few minutes, my friend tucked his instruments away.
“You’re both stable. I want you here for another hour while your temperatures come back up, and I’ll get that chest X-ray.
Assuming nothing changes, you can both return to your cabins.
Come straight back if either of you develops trouble breathing, chest tightness, dizziness, or confusion. Questions?”
Landry cleared his throat. “Ah… I’m a bit hungry.”
Keith laughed. “You must be ravenous. All that shivering and fighting the water burned through a tremendous amount of energy. I’ll have the chef bring in some warm stew and sandwiches for you both. How does that sound?”
“Thank you, sir,” Landry replied quietly, and went back to looking straight at the wall.
Keith gave him a friendly squeeze on the shoulder before moving to the corner of the medical bay to his computer station, leaving us both in the hushed quiet.
The overhead ship-wide comm came to life, and the captain’s voice boomed.
“This is the captain. The ship is stable. At 0315 hours, the vessel was struck by a displacement wave caused by a major calving event from the iceberg off our port quarter, the same iceberg beside which we have been holding position. A substantial section of its exposed face broke away without warning, displacing a large volume of water against the stern.”
My eyebrows went up. I hadn’t expected such a freak accident to be the cause.
The captain continued. “Most of the wave passed along the hull, but a fast-moving surge crossed the forward deck and carried two people over the rail. Mr. Landry, our guest from Waypoint Research Station, and Nate, our resident whale scientist, were recovered within minutes of going overboard. There are no additional injuries. I want to thank the third watch crew for being alert and initiating rescue operations immediately. Keith, our resident medic and rescue specialist, led the recovery from the Zodiac and is now overseeing both men’s care. He reports that they are stable.”
The announcement ended, and I could almost feel the entire ship exhale around us. Across the room, Keith looked up from his computer. He caught my eye first, then glanced toward Landry, and gave us both a small smile.
“Thanks, Keith,” I said.
“Anytime.”
I shook my head. “Wow, that was the iceberg? The odds of that happening have to be… I don’t know, a million to one?”
Keith nodded. “I know. You two were in exactly the wrong place when the surge reached the bow.”
I looked at Landry. “Lucky us.”
He didn’t reply or turn towards me.
“Not just lucky,” Keith said quietly. “Nate, you did everything correctly, making my task of pulling you guys out that much easier.”
“Yes, he did. I, on the other hand…” Landry’s voice was gruff. I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was only the effect of the seawater or whether I was detecting some powerful emotion underneath. “I apologize for my stupidity and the inconvenience I caused.”
Keith looked taken aback. “You’re mistaken. I was on the bridge when it happened. I saw what you did for my friend. I didn’t include it in my initial report to the captain because I wanted to corroborate it with Nate. I’m writing up my addendum right now—”
“No,” Landry cut him off. “There’s nothing to add.”
Keith opened his mouth, but I shook my head at him. Now was not the time. He hesitated but ultimately let it go.
I went back to staring at my cowboy’s profile.
My heart ached for the big guy. He was so far from the research station that had become his home away from home, stuck here with strangers on a ship, and he had just been through probably one of the most harrowing experiences of his life, but he would never admit it.
And how was I supposed to make sense of what he had done? This man, who had been nothing but rude and abrasive towards me, who was clearly uncomfortable in water, had just risked his own life for me. Why?
He didn’t even want it acknowledged.
I had been so sure I knew who he was. But now… I didn’t know anymore.
All I knew for sure was that we had way too many things unresolved between us.
I needed to talk to him.
In private.