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.
I twisted so I could keep my mouth above the surface. Then, with one arm hooked over the ice, I slid my other hand along the ice’s edge to pull my way toward the branches jutting out from shore.
It took all my strength to keep my head above the surface.
Though my body was numb and cold, somehow my left ankle still seared with pain. I swung my other leg down, planted my foot against one of the roots, and stretched for a large branch hanging above me.
But as I did, the ice cracked beneath my weight.
Lunging for a closer branch, I caught hold of it.
It sagged and dropped clumps of snow on my head and all around me in the water, but it did not break.
Thank God, it did not break.
One hand at a time I pulled my way toward shore.
You let Ellory go.
You let him die.
Finally, the river was shallow enough to stand, but I was too fatigued to do it; I crawled ashore, the wind-whipped snow lashing my face, the arctic cold immediately making its way through my drenched clothes.
Backup, they’re coming.
No, not without a GPS lock they’re not.
My frozen fingers felt useless, but I fumbled through my pocket in search of my phone, only to remember that I’d given it to Sean before I took off on his snowmobile.
Thoughts blurry.
Lost in a fog.
I tried to stand but couldn’t even push myself to my knees. No shivering meant my pulmonary system was bypassing my limbs to keep my core warm enough to survive.
But it was failing.
I collapsed, able only to draw in shallow, quick breaths.
Then I felt my stomach clench, and I vomited a mouthful of water.
As best I could, I dried my face with my gloved hands to forestall frostbite. My thoughts bumped into each other, piled, buried themselves beneath the moment. I was both aware of where I was, and not aware, all the world unraveling like a thin, warped dream.
You let him go.
White merged with black, then somehow blurred with the pain riding up my leg.
Alexei got away. You let him get away.
And Ellory is dead.
Grief struck me, but so did the cold, and it seemed to be a living thing with a will and a goal-to swiftly and resolutely take my life.
I fought off the dawning realization, but it was stark and undeniable: unless I could get dried off, warmed up, I had only minutes to live.
Clouds and snow and water and death.
The driving snow was letting up, at least for the moment, and I scanned the area, didn’t see Alexei anywhere. My breathing became rapid, shallow, quick, quick, quick, and then the world turned into a sea of white.
One last time I tried to stand, but couldn’t. Dropping to the snow, I was vaguely aware of the river snaking along beside me, a stretch of white marred with a gash of black where the water refused to freeze. The water that’d taken Ellory beneath the ice.
He’s dead.
And you let it happen.
I looked toward the bridge and saw that the semi had pulled to a stop.
The world became dim in a sweep of gray, then the moment enveloped me and became threaded with images of winter trails winding through a forest-the snow cruelly dotted with the blood of a mother and her four-year-old daughter.
Images.
A dream.
Of dark water rushing through the trees and flooding the trail, carrying the body of Bryan Ellory, dead and bloated, toward me. I’m up to my chest in the waves, and as I try to move away, he bumps into me, his arms wrap around me, and his flaccid lips press against my cheek in a cold, cruel kiss.
And then, all is black.