“It was my fault,” King said.
“It wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was. I took the men down, because I thought we were at risk. Their manner, their weapons, the blood on the clothes of the man with the sniper rifle…” He tore off the rest of his clothes and kicked off the poor-fitting boots. He stood in front of her, naked and steaming from the heat. He started to help her off with the rest of her clothes. “He fired at the ice through poor weapon handling skills, rather than to shoot us. I didn’t foresee that,” he paused, wrapped himself in a towel and draped another over her shoulders. He ladled on some more water and could feel the perspiration trickling down his back. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She shook her head. “You obviously saved me. I just want to know what happened.”
He shrugged. “You went through. I wasn’t sure if you would pop back up, but I couldn’t help you until I knew that both those men were out of the equation.”
“You killed them?”
“I don’t know. I knocked them out for sure, but I had to be quick. I got a torch and the Dragunov rifle and went in after you.”
“But, it was as cold for you as it was for me.”
King ladled on some more water. He rarely drank coffee, but he started on the large cup and enjoyed its warmth. The sweetness helped the bitter liquid down.
“I trained years ago in Norway and had to go through the ice wearing skis. I remember what hell it was, but I guess I knew what to expect this time,” he said. “There was no shock factor for me. Well, not so much, at least. I imagine you snatched a breath and that was that.”
Caroline pulled her legs up to her chest. She adjusted the towel and King threw another over to her. The door was made from glass and King imagined that somebody would be returning to check on them. The position of her legs, the way she cradled them, made her look vulnerable.
“And how did we get out?”
“I shot out the magazine,” he said. “Made a hole. I figured if the AK74 could break the ice, then the Dragunov with its more powerful ammunition would have no problems at all. Even if it was fired underwater, the bullets wouldn’t lose velocity or energy straight out of the muzzle. It would take a few feet for that to happen, but it would happen abruptly. I had the barrel practically touching the ice, so muzzle velocity would still be high.”
“And, was I unconscious?” Caroline shuddered. “Or was I…”
“You were gone,” King said. “I couldn’t get a pulse, but then, I could barely feel my own skin. You weren’t breathing, and CPR wasn’t doing anything. It’s hard with drowning, because the water is in the lungs, so you can’t just keep breathing in air for someone or they’ll split. You have to pump out the water, but you have to work the heart, too, and that means pumping two different areas.”
Caroline shuddered. “Jesus…” she trailed off. “That’s twice you’ve had to do that to me.”
King had a vision of her. Hands tied, face down in the bathtub. The room otherwise derelict. A bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. He closed his eyes. He’d saved her then, but he’d left her to go after the person responsible. A chain of events that had ultimately led him here. He thought if he hadn’t have saved her at the river, then events could have turned full circle.
“It’s getting to be a habit,” he said, hoping to ease the tension.
“I don’t recall a thing,” she said. “No lights at the end of a tunnel, no deceased family members waiting for me… nothing.”
King had been there. He’d seen the afterlife and it was as black as coal with no hope of anything metaphysical. He had been technically dead for almost five minutes. He always assumed his personal experience of death and the afterlife was down to the life he had once led and the path he had taken. But Caroline was a good person. She had killed, but only in self-defence. She was the most honest and sincere person King had ever met. Her experience simply confirmed his belief that mankind was so self-indulgent, so full of entitlement as to think they were due a second existence. But that hadn’t stopped him preying in the depths of despair. Soberly, he shrugged it off as merely hedging his bets. Human nature at its most egocentric.
King held her hand but said nothing. Sometimes people just needed their own thoughts. He looked up as the door opened and was surprised to see Ramsay and Marnie peering inside. Caroline adjusted her towels, smiled at Marnie as her expression said it all.
“I’m okay,” she said.
“What happened?” Ramsay asked.
King gave the abridged version. He stopped talking when he noticed Rashid peer around the doorway.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked.
Rashid ran his fingers through the bright orange-red hair. The sides were yellow and caught in the light. He shrugged. “New look. Get over it.”
“Well, at least it isn’t a man-bun and skinny jeans, I suppose…”
“Maybe that comes next?” Caroline chuckled.
King laughed and grinned at Rashid as he said, “I always wondered why more Pakistani men didn’t dye their hair,” he smiled. “Now I know why.”
Caroline punched King on the arm. She did not look subdued anymore. Whether it was the water, the brandy, the coffee or the warmth, was unclear, but the laugh about Rashid’s disastrous hair colour had certainly made a difference.
“I need to know what happened,” she said. She turned to Marnie. “Was this your idea?”
Marnie smiled. “I don’t think anybody could class that as an idea,” she said, trying not to laugh.
Ramsay
