Page 67 of Wandering Wild
“Anyway,” Charlie continues, “Ember thought the whole thing was hilarious, and somewhere in there she started calling me Charlie Bear as a joke, but it ended up sticking. Just for her, though—no one else calls me that.” I hear a splashing sound before she asks, “Did you have any nicknames when you were a kid?”
“Maddox used to try out different names for me,” I answer, casting my mind back. “He was big on rhyming, so things like Commander Zander and Zander Panda stuck for a while. But the one that lasted the longest came when we went through our wizards stage—much like your arctic stage, but instead of me daydreaming about a pet polar bear, I daydreamed about having magic.”
“We all did that,” Charlie says, so matter-of-factly that I snort.
“True,” I agree, before continuing, “Maddox was still doing his rhyming thing, and he was testing out Zander Salamander, but somehow it morphed into Salazander. We both thought it sounded epic, so it became my official wizard name.” As an aside, I add, “Maddox’s was Magic Maddox, shortened to Magidox. So together, we were?—”
“Salazander and Magidox.” Charlie snickers. “What nerds.”
“And proud of it.” I grin into the dark. “There’s no shame in loving what you love.”
Before I can say more, or think of a new distraction, Charlie makes a startled noise that tells me she’s finally realized the space between our heads and the tunnel ceiling is considerably less than when we entered the water. However, what she can’t yet see is the shadow of something up ahead that has my insides twisting with apprehension.
A few more swim strokes bring us right to it, revealing a sudden drop in the rocky ceiling, effectively blocking our path—or at least, blocking the empty space where our heads are bobbing. When I reach out with my hands, I can feel that the new tunnel ceiling is only a few inches beneath the surface of the water, but it might as well be miles given that no space means no air, and no air means?—
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Charlie breathes, paddling up beside me.
“Don’t panic,” I tell her—and myself. “Just... wait here, and let me check it out.”
“What?” she cries, grabbing my arm, and nearly pulling us both under. “No, Zander. You?—”
“We can’t tread water forever,” I interrupt, gently but firmly. I’m already feeling fatigued, and I know she must be as well. Soon enough our muscles will start protesting in a way we can’t ignore. “I’ll swim a little ahead, see where the ceiling rises again, and come straight back. That’s all.”
“Need I remind you that youdrownedyesterday?” Her fingers are like a vice. “Tell me honestly that your lungs aren’t still sore from that, and you’re happy to dive full-body into a dark passage with no air?” She shakes her head wildly, her face as blue as her hair thanks to the glow of our watches. “You’re crazy if you want to do this.”
“I don’twantto do it,” I state. “But sometimes you have to do things in life that you don’t want, so that you can achieve the things youdowant.”
She blinks and stutters, “Did you—Did you just Hallmark-quote me?”
My lips twitch despite myself. “No, I made it up on the fly.” I pause. “Or maybe I read it in a fortune cookie. Either way, it’s good advice.” I hold her gaze and say quietly, and with meaning, “I’ll be back before you know it.”
I can see she wants to keep fighting me on this, that she’s concerned after what happened to me yesterday, and because of that, I know she’s about to insist she goes instead, regardless of her own fear. So before she can make that offer, I unlatch her fingers from my arm, take a deep breath, and dive beneath the surface.
I’ve always been a strong swimmer—aside from yesterday, but that doesn’t count since I was unconscious—so I propel my body through the passage with ease, using the glow of my watch to light the way. I keep reaching above my head for any hint of air, but there’s nothing beyond solid rock, making my blood pressure skyrocket. If we can’t find a way through this tunnel, then we’ll have to go back to the canyon, and then... what? Search for a way around it? That could take hours.Days. There’s no way we’d make it to our extraction point on time. This is the path Hawke told us to take, and weneedto take it. For his and Bentley’s sakes as much as ours.
I’m about to admit defeat and turn around when I finally feel a gap above me, and I shoot upward, sucking in a lungful of oxygen. The space is small, only a few feet of somewhat-stale air before the rock dips down again, but it’ll work as a place to rest and catch our breath before we continue on.
I debate swimming ahead to find the end of the tunnel, but I know Charlie will worry if I don’t return soon, so I inhale deeply again and swim back to her, coughing slightly upon my arrival thanks to my decidedly tender lungs.
I’m barely above the surface when she lunges for me, touching my face, my arms, my chest, as if to make sure I’m truly all right.
“I think I hate you again,” she says shakily. “God, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” I croak out, trapping her still-frantic hand against my heart. “I’m okay. And I found us an air pocket.”
“An air pocket?” she repeats dubiously. “Not an exit?”
“I’m sure that’s close as well,” I lie.
Her lips tighten, but she only nods and says, “Lead the way.”
I don’t need any more encouragement than that, so I tell her, “Deep breath,” and dive under yet again, making sure she’s at my heels as I guide her through the tunnel.
Three times we do this, with me swimming ahead to find new air pockets, then returning to lead Charlie to them, moving us ever-deeper into the tunnel. Each time we surface again, Charlie is a little paler, and a lot more shaken—and I am, too. We still can’t touch the bottom, but our legs are now cramping enough that we have to rest them by gripping the rock with our fingertips, making our arms ache all the more. I’m increasingly aware that we can’t keep this up for much longer.
Finally—finally—I see a hint of light ahead during my next scouting swim, and I push myself further than ever to reach it, coughing and spluttering when my head breaks through the surface. I’m so winded that it takes me a moment to get my bearings, but when I do, I find myself in a large pool beneath an open-roofed cavern, the sun beaming down from the gaping hole in the rock, like light from heaven. It’s unimaginably beautiful, but my attention is on something much better: the dry ground at the edge of the water, and how it meets a fissure in the canyon wall—one that leads straight outside.
Euphoria fills me, but I only let myself enjoy it for long enough to catch my breath before I dive back under and return to Charlie.
