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Maddock threw himself flat, spread-eagling to distribute his weight. Hauser had vanished completely, dropping through the newly created fissure like a stone. Kismet, thrown off balance by the upset, tried to crawl away from the edge, but the ice beneath him gave out, plunging him into the frigid water as well. He thrashed on the surface for a moment, struggling to pull himself back onto the newly created floe. As he clawed for a purchase, his bare right hand left dark splotches on the white ice—fresh blood from an open wound—but the frozen surface crumbled at his touch, and as the water infiltrated his clothes he was dragged under.
“Crap!” Maddock snarled, knowing what he had to do.
Without leaving his prone position, he shrugged out of his parka and kicked off his boots. After the exertion of the escape from the vault and the subsequent snowmobile chase, the rush of cool air was refreshing for a second or two, but then the bitter edge seeped through his thermal undershirt and his muscles began clenching, drawing in against his torso, an automatic reaction to preserve body heat.
“Crap,” he muttered again. “This is gonna suck.”
The worst part was, he knew exactly how bad it would suck, but he nevertheless planted his palms on the icy surface and propelled himself ahead, sliding on his belly like a penguin. As he neared the edge, the ice floe tilted down with his weight, dropping him into the frigid sea.
The effects of immersion in nearly-freezing water on the human body were well understood by medical science. Many of the immediate reactions were involuntary, but some were not. Survival depended on knowing the difference and acting accordingly. Initial exposure—cold shock—was the most dangerous part. Cold receptors in the skin would trigger immediate physiological responses, beginning with a “gasp” reflex.
Maddock made sure to keep his head up, his face clear of the water as he went in to avoid drowning as the cold water washed over him, triggering that sudden inhalation.
Next came uncontrollable hyperventilation, a heart rate increase, and a spike in blood pressure—all of it, a natural response to hostile temperature, but potentially fatal, especially to those with a weak constitution. After the initial gasp, one of the next big dangers was giving in to panic, which in tandem with the involuntary urge to hyperventilate, could severely limit the oxygen supply, causing a person to black out.
Maddock knew that the effects would subside quickly, usually peaking with the first minute of exposure, but he also knew that Kismet, who was experiencing the same symptoms, but already underwater, did not have a minute.
He forced himself to hyperventilate even faster for a moment, trying to override the involuntary response, and then stopped and drew in as deep a breath as his chest would allow. Then, he rolled forward and dove into the water, aiming for the spot where he thought Kismet had gone down.
He knew that if he couldn’t find Kismet on that first breath, he wouldn’t get another chance, so he threw his arms wide, sweeping them back and forth, kicking to propel himself deeper. He had expected everything to be pitch black under the ice, and so it took a few seconds for his chill-addled brain to process the fact that there was a pale glow rising up from the depths.
It was the relic, still generating ichor despite being totally submerged.
In the instant that he realized it, the glow intensified to near solar brilliance, the lighting up the world beneath the ice like daylight. Maddock couldn’t bear to look directly at it, but as he turned away, he spotted a blurry silhouette drifting nearby.
Maddock kicked toward the shape, hooked it with an arm. He could tell by the feel that it was a body—Kismet’s body—still twitching, fighting to survive the double-punch of cold shock and drowning. Maddock reversed his position in the water, turning away from the radiance below, and began kicking hard to reach the surface. Before he’d gone even a few feet, the light abruptly went out.
Maddock didn’t know what to make of the development, and in truth, he barely retained the mental capacity to care. His arms and legs felt oddly detached. He could only tell that he was still holding on to Kismet by the amount of drag he was experiencing in trying to reach the surface. A moment later, he broke through and was welcomed by an icy chill that froze the water on his skin into stinging ice crystals. He kept kicking until Kismet emerged beside him, gasping and still struggling to stay afloat.
It took him a few seconds to orient toward shore, seconds in which he slid ever closer to the threshold of hypothermia. Simply getting out of the water wasn’t going to be enough to save them. If anything, the water temperature—just above freezing—was warmer than the air above, so getting to shelter, somewhere warm, was imperative.
“Maddock!” Bones’ shout rolled across the dark water. The big man was crouched at the edge of the broken ice shelf, waving frantically. “Over here.”
Maddock began kicking toward him, paddling with his free hand, but Kismet was like an anchor. “Swim, damn it!” he gasped. “Swim or I’ll leave you behind.”
“Do it,” Kismet coughed. “Leave me.”
So much for the motivational speech, Maddock thought. “Forget it. Just swim.”
Kismet broke free of his hold, pushing away, and immediately sank again, but Maddock snared the other man’s wrist and kept swimming. Bones was just a couple yards away, then a few feet. A few inches.
Bones reached out and snagged him under the arm, dragging him up onto the ice, and Kismet with him. The cold air left him almost completely paralyzed, barely able to breathe, but he remained fully conscious, fully aware, as Bones dragged him and Kismet back to the snowmobile
“You know it’s a good thing you managed to fish yourself out,” Bones grumbled as he slung both of them across the passenger seat. “Because no way in hell was I gonna go in there after you.”
He stripped off his parka and covered them with it, then rubbed his arms vigorously. “Brrr. You know what, next time a job takes us anywhere that requires long johns, you just count me out.”
“Bones,” Maddock said, struggling to get the words past his chattering teeth. “Just drive.”