AS I plowed through the water, I conceded that Parker might have been right. Maybe I was too exhausted; maybe I would only succeed in killing myself. I knew I should have waited for the professionals because they had the equipment and training to handle situations such as this. My emotions had gotten the better of me. Williams would most likely chew me out later, very, very thoroughly. The prospect didn’t really bother me.
Waves even bigger than before rolled toward me, forcing me to put all my strength into the strokes to get to Alex. For some time, I heard only the noise of the crushing waves and my own heavy panting. I went at it like a machine, never stopping, never allowing myself to as much as slow down. I had to get to Alex, no matter the cost.
I confirmed I was swimming in the right direction and put a tight clamp on my heart whenever I caught a glimpse of Alex. He tried, he really tried to swim toward the shore, but he barely kept his head above the surface. It was terrifyingly obvious, the closer I came, that he was utterly exhausted. Blue-lipped and moving clumsily, his first question when I reached him consisted of a mumbled, “How’s Sean?”
He had trouble forming coherent sentences. He didn’t resist the tiniest bit when I manhandled him onto his back and started to swim toward the shore. “He was awake when I left him.”
“‘m tired,” Alex slurred.
Wheezing, I demanded, “Stay awake anyway.”
“We’ll both drown.”
“Aren’t you a lovely party pooper.”
“‘s isn’t a party when there’s only two people.”
“It is when I say it is and I don’t like party poopers.”
“But you like me,” Alex stated.
I stopped for a moment, trying to catch my breath and realizing getting us both back to the shore would be highly unlikely. Treading water, I rubbed my cheek against Alex’s. With great effort, he opened his eyes.
“I do,” I said before I kissed him.
I kissed cold, unresponsive lips. Unbidden emotions welled up inside me, threatening to spill over right at this most inopportune moment. I could not lose my composure now. Later, I told myself.
Swallowing heavily, I forced the huge lump in my throat down and repeated, “I really do.”
“Me too.”
“Now that we’ve had our Scarlett O’Hara moment, let’s have another attempt at getting out of this freezing water.”
“‘m sorry, Jeff.”
“What for? You didn’t—”
The sound of a motor caught my attention. I hurriedly glanced around and spotted a small motorboat racing toward us. I raised my free hand up and waved. “Sorry, imp, you have to postpone dying.”
Alex snorted, though it sounded more shaky and tearful than anything else. Thinking that my choice of words might have lacked tact, I tried again, “It’ll be all right. They are almost here.”
Alex remained silent but kept his eyes open a slit. Affectionately, I rubbed my cheek against his again and again until a very small smile appeared on his face.
The boat positioned sideways to us after it had slowed down. Two coast guards reached down and I helped them pull Alex into the boat. My arms shook by the time the coast guards guided me into the vessel as well.
Actually, my whole body shook, and I couldn’t stop my teeth from clicking audibly. The motor roared to life again as the boat raced toward the shore. I listened to the conversation of the lifeguards, who very quickly decided they would take us to shore, where two more rescue units awaited.
Someone draped warm blankets around us and I huddled into mine, trying to stop my body from shaking and quaking. I glanced over to Alex, who was lying on his side with his eyes closed, completely still. I frowned. Something wasn’t right, but at first I couldn’t grasp what it was.
When one of the lifeguards spoke into his mic, telling someone else they got us and one of us appeared to be severely hypothermic, I swallowed. Alex had to be the one they described as severely hypothermic. It should have been obvious to me, as he didn’t even tremble anymore.
The lifeguards couldn’t do a lot on the boat except shelter us from the wind as much as possible and quickly deliver us to the shore. They tried to get a reaction from Alex, without success. Tucking my knees under my chin, a position I haven’t been in since I was very small, I observed Alex’s ghastly white face with its noticeable blue veins. I deliberately breathed in and out slowly to stop myself from hyperventilating.
The urge to ask the fussing guard if Alex would be okay was as overwhelming as it was childish. I knew no one could give me that assurance. I still wanted it. Desperately.
Several people rushed toward the boat as it slowed down and helped to secure it. They heaved Alex onto a stretcher and carried him to a waiting ambulance. Two medics helped me out of the boat and guided me toward another ambulance. Several times I stumbled and each time they caught me. My legs were annoyingly uncooperative as was the rest of my body. I wanted to look after Alex myself even though I would only be a nuisance.
Refraining from asking the medics about Alex’s condition, which they clearly couldn’t know anything about, I asked instead, “How’s the little boy?”
“They drove him to the Medical Center on Pacific Avenue,” one of the medics answered.
They urged me down onto a gurney, stripped me of my clothes, and bundled me into a rescue blanket. They took my temperature, which they pronounced to be low but not too worrisome. They placed warm compresses to my armpits and groin, causing me to hiss in surprise.
“The compresses are a safety procedure,” the medic assured me.
“Who’s with the boy? His brother was the one with me on the boat; the boy will be terrified surrounded by all those strange people.”
The older of the medics, who introduced himself as Ray, told me, “There was someone with him. A police officer or something. Charlie, what was his name?”
“Chandler, I think.”
They fumbled around with the infusion, snapped the straps of the gurney shut, and tightened them before Charlie went into the front. Ray sat at my side and we were ready to go wherever when the backdoors burst open. Ray jumped up with an indignant, “Hey! We—”
“Thank God, you’re okay!” Parker shouted as he climbed into the ambulance. He banged the door shut behind him and took a seat on my other side. He frowned at Ray. “What? Didn’t you want to take him to the Medical Center?”
“Who are you?” Ray demanded.
“I’m Detective Trenkins and this bloody, suicidal idiot here is my partner, Detective Woods. He shouldn’t wear a badge if you ask me since he’s a complete imbecile, but what do I know, huh?”
Tilting my head sideways to look at Ray, I explained, “He’s pissed off because I wouldn’t let him play hero.”
Parker muttered some very colorful expletives that caused Ray to blush furiously. In the front of the ambulance, Charlie coughed. As he started the engine, he said to Parker, “So you’re teamed up with a guy who has a hero complex? You have my deepest sympathies. Maybe we could trade stories someday. You wouldn’t believe how many people suffer from that complex.”
Parker stopped midway through his rant and peered at Charlie, then back at Ray.
“Is it contagious?” he asked.
“No,” Charlie laughed. “It absolutely isn’t.”
Ray ignored Charlie’s teasing comments and fiddled with the line of my IV bag. When Parker’s cell phone rang, Ray’s and my eyes met briefly. He shrugged and whispered, “I bet you had a good reason for playing hero. Even if you acted completely unreasonably.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
Parker flipped his cell phone shut and shoved it back into his jacket. He didn’t say a word but fidgeted a lot. The sirens on top of the ambulance blared as the car sped through the streets. Parker purposefully avoided eye contact with me. I wanted to ask him what he had heard on the phone, yet I didn’t. I had a very good idea what news he had received. I didn’t know if I could stomach it. On the other hand, I had to know.
“What was the call about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
The strain in my voice and the crack at the end gave me away nonetheless. I had seen dead people, battered and barely resembling anything human, but never had I felt this helpless, this terrified before.
Parker’s gaze skimmed over me, but he still hesitated. I closed my eyes and prompted, “Parker, please.”
“Alex is unconscious. His heart rate is increased and irregular. His temperature is too low to register. They don’t want to move him around right now. They are trying to heat him up slowly.”
Parker stopped and followed his silence by a deep sigh. I opted for opening my eyes. I couldn’t bear the darkness around me anymore. Swallowing my own spit became a serious issue, but I managed. “What does that mean? Come on, Parker, translate it into plain words for me.”
Parker glanced at Ray, who stared at us with unhidden interest. Parker’s hesitance suddenly made sense. I felt a deep affection for my troublesome partner, knowing he tried to keep me safe. “Parker?”
He grimaced before he focused his eyes on my face. “That means it’s not looking good right now. Maybe a fifty percent chance of surviving.”
“Fifty percent? That’s… that’s not too bad.”
Parker’s face softened and he briefly touched my cheek with his fingers. “I guess.”
I didn’t want to see the compassion and the pity on either Parker’s or Ray’s face. The only thing I could do about it was to close my eyes again, so I did just that. Blocking out any thoughts about Alex proved to be more difficult—impossible, actually.
I ENDURED the ride to the medical center and all the prodding the doctors did there. My temperature went up astonishingly fast, so they gave up trying to convince me to stay overnight for observation. It might have had to do with me lamenting and demanding answers about the whereabouts and conditions of Alex and Sean. No one ever answered any of my questions.
Parker somehow emerged with a bunch of my clothes in his arms a couple of hours after my arrival in the medical center. He threw them on a chair next to my bed and bestowed a drop-dead look on me. Taken aback, I blinked at him. “How did you get my clothes?”
Parker scowled at me, but at least he answered. “I told one of the guys at the station to open your locker and bring some of your clothes over here.”
“You ordered someone to break open my locker?” I asked incredulously.
“Would you rather run around naked? Not that you’re bad-looking, but it might not be the wisest thing to do after almost drowning.”
“I did not almost drown,” I replied while I shrugged into a shirt. A satisfied sigh escaped from my mouth when I pulled a heavy and well-worn sweater over my head.
“The hell you did! You stupid asshole!”
Parker started pacing through the room, all the while cursing and ranting. Thinking it was for the best if he could get his agitation out of his system, I let him be. I dressed silently but also kept an eye on him. When I finished I said, “Parker? Where’s Alex?”
“It was my pleasure to make sure you have decent clothes after almost killing yourself, don’t sweat about it!”
I didn’t mistake Parker’s comment. Yes, I understood he was angry, rightly so, but I also knew he didn’t want to tell me something. I swallowed several times as my stomach decided to lurch suddenly. Throwing up would probably be considered a reason to evaluate my physical condition further and I didn’t have time for that. I needed to see Alex, needed to make sure he was still here and most importantly, still alive.
My voice sounded decidedly close to begging when I said, “Parker, please, where’s Alex?”
Parker watched me for what seemed like an hour. Eventually he relented. “He’s in the ICU and sleeping.”
“That’s… that’s good, right?”
Why the hell did he make such a fuss? The ICU wasn’t good but at least Alex lived. Sleeping was probably a normal and healthy reaction by his body after such a trauma.
“Jeff,” Parker sighed ominously. I didn’t like this kind of sigh; the implications behind it frightened me.
“What? Do you know which room he’s in?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Bring me to him,” I demanded.
Parker pinched the bridge of his nose before he dropped the bomb. “Alex went into cardiac arrest upon arrival here. Resuscitation was successful, but he’s on a ventilator at the moment.”