Her head smacked the windscreen and her chest pressed into the steering wheel as they hit the railings and crunched to a stop. She saw the SUVs race down the jetty, the first crashing into a building in a cloud of masonry dust, the second piling into the sea.
Ewan.
She looked across the cab at Ava and Lennox.
‘Are you OK?’
They were both conscious, dazed from the crash. Ava grimaced at another contraction, Lennox shook his head.
Heather grabbed the bag from between his legs and jumped out of the truck, ran down the jetty. She looked at the SUV stuck in the ferry terminal building, the driver unconscious. She ran to the end of the jetty, saw the second SUV sinking in the water, just its rear wheels and taillights above the surface.
‘Ewan!’ She leaned over the edge. The car was twenty yards away. She couldn’t swim, but she had a better idea anyway.
She unzipped the bag and Sandy’s tentacles unfolded onto the concrete, followed by their body. Heather grabbed a suckered tentacle.
<Sandy, you know Ewan, our friend.>
<Not partial with Sandy. But help Sandy-human partials.>
<That’s right. He helped us all.> She glanced at the water, bubbles rising as the back wheels sank below the surface.
<He needs your help. He’s trapped in that car.>
Sandy looked at the loch.
<He can’t breathe underwater. I need you to bring him here. Can you do that?>
A moment’s silence. <We will bring Ewan to you.>
<Quickly, he’s drowning.>
Sandy scuttled to the edge and slid underwater. Heather saw their sleek body moving fast to the roof of the car, grabbing it and moving to one of side doors. The car sank lower and Heather wondered how deep the water was.
She thought about the others in the car. She should get Sandy to retrieve them all, but Ewan was her priority. She thought about him shouting from the SUV earlier, what he’d done at Toll Sionnach.
The car had disappeared now, just ripples on the brown surface, seagulls floating, a thin trail of bubbles popping. She thought about Ewan’s lungs.
<Sandy?>
Waited.
Nothing.
Fuck, come on.
She glanced around. The truck on the pavement was pressed against bent railings. The SUV nestled inside the crumbling brick of the terminal. Locals and tourists gathered at the seafront, wondering what had happened, how they could help.
<Sandy?>
Come on, come on, come on.
The surface of the water broke a few yards to the left, Sandy’s body sparkling in the sunshine, tentacles around Ewan, his face turned upward, eyes closed. Sandy swam fast to the side of the jetty where there were steps to a low boardwalk, two small boats moored there. Heather ran down the steps and leaned over as Sandy arrived. She hauled Ewan out of the water, Sandy pushing from underneath.
Ewan’s face was white, wet hair plastered to his head, blood oozing from a chest wound. Heather took a handkerchief from her pocket and pressed hard against it. Did one of the guys shoot him? She got her phone out and called 999, gave their location and hung up. She didn’t know where an ambulance was coming from, but she knew it would be too late.
She began CPR, pinching his nose, head back, breathing into him, pressing his chest. She moved down from his sternum, worried about the bullet hole. Every time she pressed his chest, blood bubbled from his wound. Maybe she was doing more harm than good. But she’d seen enough shitty dramas to know you keep going and eventually they cough up a pint of seawater and recover. She kept breathing into his mouth then pumping his damaged chest. She saw Ava and Lennox out of the truck now. More people had gathered on the road, some walking up the jetty towards her. To her right, Sandy crawled from the water and sat alongside, their display flashing and pulsing.
More CPR, more breathing, more pressing on his chest, but Ewan stayed pale and clammy.
Heather looked at Sandy. <Can you help him?>
<In what way?>
<He’s not breathing, he might have drowned. And he has a chest wound.> She noticed his left shoe, mangled and blood-soaked.
Sandy glowed. <Make Sandy-Ewan partial?>
Heather heard seagulls calling to each other, the sound of water slapping against the boardwalk. <Please.>
She sat back to make room and Sandy clambered onto Ewan’s chest. They reached two tentacles to either side of Ewan’s head, inched their body near his throat. The light display dimmed, grey with purple flecks. Sandy sat there for a long time and Heather imagined an ambulance turning up, having to explain. A few people were above her on the jetty, staring. A woman filmed it all on her phone.
‘Stay away,’ Heather said. ‘Get an ambulance.’
She felt so weary. She would never be able to explain this and she resented that she would have to, over and over, to these people, Fellowes if he was alive, the police, other authorities, the press. But none of that mattered if Sandy could bring Ewan back.
<Sandy?> She held Ewan’s limp hand. <Is it working?>
No answer, a change in their display, purple getting lighter, grey darker. Their rear tentacles were wrapped around Ewan’s legs, squeezing. His face was covered in suckers, one tentacle curled around his neck, Sandy’s body pulsing like a human heart. But Ewan’s hand felt the same. She imagined him gripping her fingers, coughing up some of Loch Broom, Heather laughing in relief.
<Sandy?>
A few more moments then Sandy released their grip of his legs and head, folding tentacles inward, shrinking their body as they slid off him and onto the boardwalk.
<Sandy, what happened?>
<Could not establish Sandy-Ewan partial.>
<Why not?>
<Ewan already converted energy to initial form.>
Heather felt tears in her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
<Ewan already part of bigger energy. No longer creature. Back to beginning.>
‘But why can’t you fucking save him? You cured my cancer. Make him live.’
The people on the jetty stared at her but she didn’t care.
<That was cell refocus. Ewan energy already converted.>
‘Fuck,’ she said under her breath. She squeezed Ewan’s hand, looked at his grey face. ‘Ewan, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
The blood coming from his chest had eased, just a red smear across his clothes. Heather placed her fingers hard into his neck, checking for a pulse. Nothing. She cried as she leaned in and placed her cheek against his. He was clammy on her skin, wet with seawater and tears, already changed into something else, into nothing.
‘Heather!’
She screwed her eyes shut, felt a shiver through her body. All this shit was still going on.
‘Heather!’
It was Lennox. He and Ava still needed her. Everyone always needed her.
She looked up, still holding Ewan’s hand.
Lennox was by the truck, Ava lying on the flat bed at the back. Lennox pointed.
‘The baby’s coming.’