breath, flailing his arms. Then the water swallowed him again.
Go, go!
I fought my way through the trees, through the thick snow, scrambling to stay ahead of him, all the while looking for a branch I could use to fish him out.
Nothing.
The angry current was not going to bring him closer to shore.
You have to He surfaced again, his eyes wide with terror. He sputtered for air, gave a strangled call for help.
“I’m coming!” I yelled.
He went under again. There was no other choice. None.
I took a deep breath, braced myself, and leaped into the river.
Shock.
Frozen knives stabbed at me everywhere. The current immediately cut my feet out from under me, tugged me under. Breath escaped me.
I strained for the surface, instinctively gulped for air, swallowed water.
Planting my feet on the bottom, I pushed off and splashed to the surface, spit out the water. I struggled for breath, my chest clutched tight from the cold. Paralyzing. Terrifying. I couldn’t see Ellory and guessed the current had almost certainly taken him past me by now. I swam forward to catch up with him.
The bank of ice was less than twenty meters away.
I groped through the water, trying to find him, shouting his name. Desperately I pressed off a rock with my left foot, but the rock spun, trapping my ankle. The current dragged me forward, twisting my ankle free, sending a sharp streak of pain up my leg. I lost my footing and fell forward, sweeping my hands through the swirling water, trying to find an arm, a leg, Ellory’s jacket, anything, but came up empty.
Every second it was harder to breathe, harder to move, as my body tried to conserve heat by sending blood to my vital organs-my heart, my lungs. The things that matter most. Fingers, toes, limbs-all expendable. But not the heart. Not the lungs. Survival trumps everything.
But I wouldn’t survive unless I could move; unless I could get out of the river.
Once again I found my footing, and pain shot up my leg as I inadvertently put pressure on my injured ankle- sprained, maybe broken. But none of that mattered. I launched myself downstream again, daring to believe I’d find Ellory.
Ten meters from the ice.
I searched the water.
Nothing.
Get out, Pat, you’re not gonna make it!
I grabbed a breath and dove under one last time, swam into deeper water, and felt something bump against my leg.
I thrust my hand down.
Snagged Ellory’s armpit.
Kicking hard and stroking with my free hand, I went for the surface. My head broke through the water, and I drew in a desperate, uncontrolled breath.
The current tried to yank Ellory from me, but I wrapped my arm tight around him and squeezed. Scissors- kicked toward shore.
Five meters to the ice.
But at least that far from shore.
Options: a few branches stretched across the water, but they were still out of reach. A root system slithered out from the base of a tree and disappeared into the ice, but I could only grab its roots if I were under the ice.
Get out, you have to get out!
Muscles weak. Failing.
A dark and terrible thought grabbed me: I was not going to be able to save Bryan Ellory.
Two lives lost.
Two or one I fought the current, trying to Two meters.
Decide!
Now!
The edge looks thick.
Thick enough.
It’ll hold.
One meter.
Clinging to Ellory, I threw up my free hand, took a deep breath, and then ducked my head to avoid smashing my face into the edge of the ice.
And I went under.
32
What happened next seemed to happen all at once and yet in slow motion, frame by frame, time condensing in on itself. Collapsing.
Expanding.
My forearm slammed into the edge of the ice as the current tugged at me; my arm slid down the ice to my hand, just as I’d hoped, and I was able to clutch the lip of the ice.
Don’t break, please don’t break!
The ice broke.
The current swept me farther under, but I snagged one of the roots, clenching it with finger-strength earned from years of rock climbing.
But it was moss-covered and slippery and I wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.
Oxygen escaping me, I strained to pull toward freedom, but with Ellory’s weight and the force of the current I couldn’t do it. I’d never be able to get him to the surface.
No!
Dark water.
Death.
The real.
Two lives or one.
I let out my last gulp of air.
Please no!
I cried out in my heart, God, don’t let him die. Please don’t let him die!
But no help came.
There was nothing else to do.
I let go of Bryan Ellory.
The river took him from me, and I threw my other arm up so I could cling to the root with both hands.
No air in my lungs.
You let him go, Pat.
You let him die.
As quickly as I could, I worked my way up the root system, hand-over-hand, until finally, gaining leverage, I managed to grasp the edge of the ice. This time it held. One more tug and I was able to slide my elbow up, over the lip of ice, allowing me to get my mouth to the surface.
Quick breaths.
Life.
I breathed, breathed, breathed, both numb and weak, and realized I wasn’t shivering-a bad sign. My body was already shutting down. I had to get to shore. Now.
