14. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Jake
I can’t help but sob quietly as I lower the anchor. I’ve run out of ideas and I don’t know how I can protect Hanny-bee and our princess. I hate myself for ever coming into their life and putting them at risk.
Get a grip, Jake! Don’t give up. There’s still a tiny chance. Don’t give up.
Hannah’s eyes find mine when I head back to them. All I want to do is pull her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay. But I can’t and it would be a lie anyway.
“Any last words?” Mincer asks her before reaching for his backpack. The same one he had pulled the duct tape out from.
In a split second I make a decision. We’re doomed anyway. Now is the only chance we have. I try to jump him and almost get to him, but he hears me and turns and kicks me hard in the chest. It forces me backward and knocks the air out of me for a second before I bump into something soft. There’s a muffled sound behind me and then a splash. As I turn I see Hannah disappear under water.
“Hannah!” I shout as she slips under the water’s dark surface. Mincer’s laugh echoes behind me, a twisted sound that snaps something inside. I swing my fist without thinking and it slams into his face. He stumbles back with a shout but I don’t care if he falls, if he’s coming after me—I’ve only got one thought now.
I kick off my shoes and shrug my jacket off in one frantic movement and dive into the freezing water. The cold shocks me, biting through my clothes, clawing at my skin and stealing my breath. I push against it, kicking down, deeper, reaching blindly through the blackness as the lake pulls me under.
Everything’s silent except for the thunder of my heartbeat. I open my eyes against the sting and strain to make her out in the murky depths. The lake wraps around me like a weight, slowing me down, dragging me back. I force myself to kick harder and fight against the numbing cold that seeps into my bones. And then—there. I see her, a pale blur below, drifting further with her hair floating around her like a bright halo and her eyes gazing up to the light.
My lungs burn as I push myself to reach her and stretch out until my fingers graze her jacket. I grab her around her waist and tighten my grip as I pull her towards me, refusing to let go. I kick upwards with every ounce of strength I’ve got dragging her through the thick, unyielding water and fighting against the lake’s grip.
My chest feels like it’s about to burst but I don’t stop even for a second. I can see the faint glimmer of the surface above, distant but within reach. Her eyes are on mine but her lids are slowly closing. Stay with me, Hanny-bee, stay with me. I silently will her to not give up. Please don’t give up, we’re almost there. Please.
I pull her closer and cradle her against me as I push up as quickly as my burning muscles allow. The lake’s cold weight claws at us and threatens to pull us back down but I kick harder, forcing us upwards and feeling the last shred of air slip from my lungs just as we break the surface.
I pull her head to the surface, gasping as I drag her towards me whilst treading water. Her eyes are shut and her body is limp against mine. Duct tape still clings to her lips and I peel it off with shaking, frozen fingers before tossing it into the water. Her face is pale and her lips are slightly blue.
“Hannah,” I rasp in a voice that’s barely a whisper but there’s no response. I tighten my grip around her. I can feel the cold sinking deeper into me but I don’t care. I can’t let her slip away.
My mind races as I tilt her head back and press my mouth to hers, trying to breathe life back into her by pushing air into her lungs in desperate bursts. “Come on Hanny-bee, breathe!” I whisper fiercely between breaths as the silence of the lake stretches around us. I press against her chest, willing her heart to beat, my own pulse roaring in my ears as I try again and again, each breath a plea.
She coughs just as the edges of panic are closing in—a faint, fragile sound that fills me with relief. Water sputters from her lips and she gasps, choking as she sucks in air. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and confused, and I clutch her tighter to keep her steady.
“Jake…” she whispers, her voice barely audible but it’s all I need to hear. The lake is cold and mist is pressing in, but she’s here, alive, and I’m not letting go.
I look around and see the boat in the same spot but there’s no sign of Mincer. Even if I dared swim to it there’s no way getting onto the boat from the water unless someone lets the ladder down. I’m also aware that his partner may be on the way to rendezvous with him because he talked about another boat.
“Jake my legs and hands are still tied—”
“I know but there’s nothing I can do about that now. Just lie back like you’re playing dead and I’ll get us to shore.” I try to sound reassuring even though I don’t feel it. The shore is a long way away and my legs are burning. We need to get out of the cold water as soon as possible but there’s no time to worry about that I lean back and swim towards the shore to our right which seems closest.
I don’t know how long I’ve been swimming. The boat is now a small dot in the distance but worryingly land doesn’t seem much closer.
“I love you Hanny-bee. I’ll try everything I can to get you and our princess to safety but if I don’t manage it, please know that I love you.” I can’t help it. I shouldn’t say the words but I have to. I need her to know as well.
“We love you too, Jake,” she whispers through chattering teeth.
I lean back again and swim a little more. My arms feel like lead but I don’t want to give up. Not yet. I start to count. I swim until I get to twenty-one then I stop briefly and start again. Another count to twenty-one. And another. I manage five of them when I suddenly hear noises. A boat. For a second I am worried it’s Mincer’s colleague but then I spot the two boats belonging to the Lake Wardens heading towards us.
“Hanny-bee, boats,” I say, but she doesn’t reply. She needs help, quickly. I gather my last reserves and start waving and splashing. For a second I think they will pass us by but then one of them slows down and moves toward us.
“She needs help,” I call out and two divers jump into the water and swim over to us. They take Hannah from me and one of them tows her to their boat.
“Be careful. She’s twenty-eight weeks pregnant,” I call after him, my voice sounding weak even to my own ears . I made it. I got her to safety. Any strength I had left leaves me and I just feel weightless. The lake is pulling on me again and I just want to let go . I’ve done what I needed to do. I’ve done it.
Just as I am about to slip under the surface the second diver takes hold of me.
“Not so quick mate. Your partner and your baby will need you,” he says calmly, dragging me swiftly to the boat.
The diver hauls me up, one hand gripping my arm, the other securing me by the waist, practically lifting me from the water. I don’t resist as someone pulls me over the boat’s edge, the deck suddenly solid beneath me. I feel numb and chilled to the bone, my muscles weak and trembling. I catch a glimpse of Hannah sitting bundled up on a bench, as the crew peel away her soaked clothes and wrap her in thick, dry blankets. Her head lolls to the side, her eyes barely open, her face pale against the dark wool, but I can see her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. She’s here—she’s alive.
One of the crewmen steadies me and presses me to sit down. Another reaches for the hem of my soaked shirt, peeling it off before draping a heavy, woollen blanket over my shoulders. The scratchy warmth of it feels strange against my numb skin but I sink into it, clutching it close as the last of the lake’s chill begins to loosen its grip. I barely feel them tugging off my waterlogged trousers and shoes, only faintly registering the clatter as they drop onto the deck.
“Here, drink this, mate.” A steaming mug is pushed into my hands, and I blink, focusing on the hot tea sloshing inside. I bring it to my lips with fingers trembling so badly that a bit spills down my chin but I don’t care. The heat of it burns my throat and I welcome the pain.
My eyes drift back to Hannah. One of the crew holds her hand and speaks to her softly. Another slips a stethoscope under the blankets, listening carefully, and I watch him nod with a faint but confident smile on his face as he murmurs something to his colleague.
The diver who’d pulled me from the water sits beside me, his hand a solid, grounding weight on my shoulder. “You did it,” he says quietly, his voice low and steady. I nod, feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and relief settle over me. Every breath feels heavier but lighter at the same time, as if the weight I’d carried into that lake has finally let go.
“Argh,” Hannah suddenly exclaims and all eyes are on her.
“Hannah!” Somehow I manage to crawl to her just as the crew lay her down onto the deck.
Hannah grabs my hand before convulsing again.
“Looks like you’re in labour love,” the crewman with the stethoscope says and I see concern in his eyes. “Let’s take her on the boat to Windermere and the ambulance can meet us there. That’s much quicker than taking her back to Fellside and then by ambulance to the hospital,” he explains, trying to get my consent. I nod. Sounds like a plan to me.
The engine of the boat roars and hums beneath us as we speed towards Windermere. The crew work like a well-oiled machine, focused and calm despite the urgency of the situation. I glance at Hannah whose face is still pale and now glistening with a light sheen of sweat. One of the crew, a woman with a determined look, kneels beside her and firmly holds her hand.
“Just breathe, Hannah,” the woman instructs, her voice soothing despite the chaos around us. “In and out, nice and slow.”
Hannah’s eyes flutter open, panic flashing through them as another wave of pain hits her.
“Focus on me, Hanny-bee,” I say gently. “You’re doing brilliantly. Just keep breathing.”
Her body tenses as another contraction rolls through her. She gasps, a sharp intake of breath that sends a pang of fear through me. “Jake,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. You’re so strong,” I urge, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve got this. We’re almost there.”
The crew work quickly to secure blankets and make space, one of them setting up a small makeshift area with towels and more blankets to keep Hannah comfortable. The boat rocks gently, each wave threatening to jolt us, but they remain steady and focused on her. I can’t tear my gaze from her face, each contraction etching lines of pain deeper across her brow.
As we approach Windermere I see the outline of the shore coming into view. The crew prepares for us to dock, moving with urgency that fuels my own anxiety.
“Just hold on,” I whisper again, and she nods, squeezing her eyes shut as another wave crashes over her.
“How far?” Hannah gasps, panic creeping back into her voice as the next contraction hits. “We’re not going to make it, Jake!”
“Just breathe sweetheart,” I say, reaching out to brush a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “We’re almost there, I promise. You’re not alone.”
The shore draws closer, and I feel the tension in the air rise with every passing second. The crew move faster, shouting instructions to each other as we close in on the pier. I can barely focus on anything but Hannah and the way she’s fighting through the pain.
I feel the boat lurch slightly as the crew aligns us with the pier. I can see the outlines of the ambulance now.
I don’t pay much attention on how we’re taken off the boat or loaded onto the ambulance. My whole focus is on Hannah and our baby.