“Then why all this? Why leave us alive? Why the goddamn mind fuck?”
“They probably didn’t want us found with bullet holes in our bodies,” Dmytro said grimly. “Pretend you’re still tied to the railing and stay down while I—”
Whump.
The deck of theCharioteergave a mighty, mighty shudder, and water churned all around it like—like—
“Oh my God.” From his sitting position at the rail, Ajax was thrown brutally against its bars. His ribs cracked against the metal, and he let out a shocked cry. “Did they just blow us up?”
Ajax’s body rolled when another shockwave hit, and the entire ship heaved from one side to the other. It pitched anddove without anywhere to go because they were still dragging the anchor.
Dmytro used one of his powerful arms to push himself upright. He tried to cushion Ajax’s next fall with his body. “Hold on to the railing. Hold tight, Ajax. Don’t let go until I tell you to.”
“I saw this movie,” Ajax said, stricken. “One of us dies.”
Despite Dmytro’s death grip, they were tossed around like dolls.
Ajax shouted, “Are they watching this? Watching us until we go down?”
“Probably. Keep your head down. They’ll start shooting if they think we have a chance.” Dmytro grabbed Ajax’s hand. “Come with me. Stay low. We might still be able to transmit a—”
Hot mist spattered Ajax’s face. A microsecond later, the crack of gunfire came over the wind. Ajax watched, unable to comprehend, as Dmytro hit the railing and fell overboard.
As if in a dream, Ajax watched him hit the water. Everything in his life narrowed down to one man, one choice. He glanced back at the trawler to find it had turned again and was chugging away.
Leaving them. Leaving him on a sinking boat. Leaving Dmytro to plunge, unconscious, to the bottom of the sea, and Ajax… Ajax was a strong, well-trained swimmer, and he would fight, but no one could fight forever.
There was nothing else to do but get on the rail, take a deep breath, and jump into the water.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ajax
The sea rushed at Ajax.When he hit, it was like falling on concrete. The frigid water made his breath rush out, instantaneous and reflexive. Already he knew this was going to be like nothing he’d ever experienced. For one thing, he couldn’t see. Debris from the sinking boat, papers and rags, oil and fuel fouled the water as the sea seemed to boil up around them.
Giving his body the chance to acknowledge the chill, he pumped as hard as he could to the surface for a deep breath, and then dove again lower, making wide, frantic arcs with his arms. Just when he felt like he couldn’t hold his breath a second longer, he brushed Dmytro’s arm, made a grab for it, and kicked as hard as he could to the surface.
Dmytro was a rock. A fucking mountain. Once they were at the surface, it took all Ajax’s strength to pull his head up and out of the water. He dragged Dmytro into a rescue hold, keeping Dmytro’s head on his shoulder, praying he wasn’t too late. It took every ounce of his strength to keep him afloat. He had three, maybe four minutes like this. No more.
Dmytro lay limply while Ajax kicked hard to keep them on the surface. He was too pale and still. Ajax wanted to cry, to scream.
He couldn’t do both—hold Dmytro’s head above water and perform CPR.
He resorted to desperation and rage at the world, slapping Dmytro’s face as best he could from that angle. Once. Twice. Nothing happened.
Then he wrapped both arms around Dmytro’s belly and compressed them as if to administer the Heimlich.
On the third try, Dmytro coughed. He vomited water. He gagged and gasped for breath. Dmytro showed no other signs of consciousness.
Ajax could not allow himself to panic. The boat was going down absurdly fast. As it did, flotsam came up all around them. Ajax was a geek who’d grown up watchingMythBusters, and they’dprovensinking boats don’t pull a swimmer under. But he did have other things to worry about.
He had no rescue tube. And he had no hope of keeping both of them alive for any length of time without some kind of flotation. Against every ancient fear, he swam toward the wreck, looking for something he could use.
Already the sea was a wasteland of plastic water bottles, aluminum cans, rags, and paper, and now he hoped there might be more. Something he could use as makeshift flotation until rescue came.
If rescue came.
Shit. Shit, shit,there. The ship’s life ring buoy was still looped over the hook outside the bridge, and if he could get both of them over there before the ship sank beneath the surface, he could get it.
