PARKER HIT THE WATER AND went under, and the icy cold bit into him like a thousand needles. A sense of panic sliced into his mind, but he fought it down as he sputtered to the surface and whipped his head in the direction he’d last seen the captain.
“Logan!”
Yes, there he was. Thank God for Fredricks, who had both of them lit up in his spotlight. “Hang on!”
Then Logan disappeared as a wave buried Parker, and the surging water tried to yank the preserver out of his hand. But he clutched the ring tighter. The water continued to stab at his skin, but he ignored the sensation and swam hard toward Logan. He must have looked like a man flailing in the water at his first swimming lesson, but Parker felt like he was Michael Phelps digging through the waves.
Ten seconds later he reached the area where Logan should be. He spun in a circle and the rope tightened around him. He spun back the other way to untangle himself, all the time searching frantically for any sign of Logan. There! His hat, floating right beside Parker. But no Logan. “Come on, Logan. Fight!”
Finally the man surfaced ten feet away, gasping. He went under again. Then came back up. Then under. Surfaced again. Parker dug into the water and pulled with all his strength. Seven feet. Five. He was going to make it. He kicked hard, and as he did the rope went taut. No! So close. It couldn’t end like this.
“Logan! Here!”
A mouthful of salt water gushed into his mouth as he cried out. Just like when he was a kid. The water would fill his lungs and he would . . . No! Parker hacked out the briny water and stretched out his arm for the sinking man. Inches. All he needed was twenty-four inches. But it might as well have been a football field. He could no longer see Logan.
For the second time Parker had to choose. Let go and dive down for Logan? Hope to reach him, pull him to the surface, and tow him back to the ring? If he let go of the life preserver, they both would drown. Still, there was only one choice. He sucked in a deep breath and got ready to let go.
But before he could, a thick hand latched onto his right wrist from under the water and yanked down hard. Logan. Still alive. With that movement, Parker’s grip on the life preserver came loose. Not good. Logan would pull them both under and drown both of them without realizing what he’d done.
But as Logan’s grip tightened, Parker snagged the rope around the life preserver with his forefinger and middle finger. Hang on! He had to hang on. But what good would it do either of them? He couldn’t hope to hold on to the rope for more than a few seconds, and then what?
The rope tore into his fingers. Pain ripped up from his fingers and into his hand, into his arm and shoulder, but he refused to let go. Logan surfaced, his eyes wild. He let go of Parker’s arm and grabbed for his neck and pulled hard. It forced Parker’s hand to slip down the rope, and both men started to go under. He had to make Logan let go! Parker formed a fist, reared back, and slugged Logan in the face as hard as he could. Logan’s head flopped back and his grip loosened. Parker took hold of the captain’s jacket and held on with everything he had.
Logan hacked out a series of coughs that sounded like they would split the man in two. But seconds later he grabbed Parker’s arm with both hands, and once again the weight of the bigger man pulled Parker under and he lost hold of the rope. He sucked in a mouthful of water, clawed his way to the surface, and pulled in half a breath before a wave drove him under the water again. An instant later the world went dark.