“No need. He doesn’t have any body fat. He’ll sink right to the bottom.” Dylan was right. Dead bodies sank at first, then floated to the surface after decomposition gases formed. Depending on water temp and location, that could be a few days.
The woman grabbed his ankles. Despite Todd’s struggles, they heaved him onto the edge of the boat. The engine, now idling, glugged.
“Hold him still,” the woman said. Fabric rustled.
With their engine quiet, Todd heard a second motor approaching.
Another boat!
Dylan’s head snapped around. “Someone’s coming. If you’re going to shoot him, hurry the fuck up.”
The woman was rooting in her pocket, probably for the gun. Todd caught the glint of moonlight on metal as she pulled out a pistol. He shifted his eyeball in the other direction. Nothing but water, dark and terrifying, stretched out in an endless, shifting void. He was an excellent swimmer, but he’d never practiced with his hands and feet tied. He wasn’t a fucking SEAL. Was the water a better option than a bullet? She couldn’t miss at this range. A gunshot would be quick and clean. Drowning seemed more terrifying. But he couldn’t give up. His survival instinct took over.
He had no choice.
He pulled his knees to his chest and kicked out. His bound feet caught the woman in the belly, knocking her backward. The impact also broke Dylan’s grip and sent Todd’s shoulders over the edge of the boat. He dangled, but Dylan’s fist closed on his pant leg.
“Get him!” the woman yelled.
Dylan grunted and swiped at Todd’s bicep. Todd twisted away and kicked off Dylan’s grip. Todd slid over the side. He free-fell for a split second, then hit the water headfirst. The lake was cold and shocking. He tumbled and lost his bearings in the darkness. He opened his eye and saw moonlight above him. With his arms bound behind his back, it took him a few seconds to right himself. His lungs burned. He kicked toward the light. When his head broke the surface, he spit out a mouthful of water and gasped for air. Unable to tread water, he felt himself sinking. Panic stole his control, and he thrashed. Water invaded his mouth and nose. His throat closed, suffocating him. His vision blurred. He sputtered and coughed. Even though his face was wet, he could feel tears burning his eyes and clogging his nose.
He was going to drown.
Stop!
Floating was hard for him even without being tied, but it wasn’t impossible. Fighting for calm, he tilted his head back and inflated his lungs like an inner tube. To save energy, he moved his feet as little as possible, kicking them in small movements like a dolphin’s tail only when necessary if the water was over his face when he needed to breathe.
He could keep his mouth and nose above water for a while, but he must remain calm.
Panic would kill him.
As he hung, suspended in the water, his breathing didn’t return to normal, but it did begin to slow. His heart rate decreased from full-out sprint to hard run.
A gunshot rang out, startling him. He jolted at a disturbance in the water a few feet away. Water sloshed over his face and into his eyes, and he lost control of his respirations.
As if not drowning while submerged in a dark lake with one’s hands and feet bound weren’t challenging enough.
She was fucking shooting at him.
The woman was leaning over the side of the boat, obviously scanning the water for him. She waved the gun in one hand. “Get a fucking flashlight!”
Todd used his abs to dolphin kick, trying to put some distance between him and the boat. The greater the distance, the less accurate a handgun was to shoot.
But he had only one option. If he stayed above the surface, she would see him. Then she would shoot him. Then he’d definitely drown.
To save himself, he’d have to do the one thing his body was fighting against.
He had to go under.
Todd exhaled. With the air out of his lungs, his lean body sank. The water closed over his head. An odd calm washed over him as he watched the moonlight fade.
A second shot rang out. The bullet hit the water with a quick splash. Todd slowly kicked away from the sound.
The blackness had seemed terrifying just a moment ago. Now he was hoping it was dark enough so she couldn’t see him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Matt watched the silhouettes struggle, saw the body go into the water, heard the sound of gunshots. He needed to go in after Todd. But he couldn’t see him.
“Can you get me closer?” he shouted at Juarez.
With a nod, Juarez eased the throttle forward, and the boat surged faster. The AR-15 strapped to the deputy’s back swung. He steered to the right to give the area where the person had gone into the water a wide berth. The boat leaned into the turn. They crossed over the wake of the lead boat. Their bow porpoised, the hull slapping on the water after it topped each wave and crashed down.
Stephanie’s boat surged ahead. Were they making a run for it?
Fighting for balance, Matt grabbed the life ring from the back of the seat and staggered to the side.
Next to him, Bree gripped a rail with one hand. Her feet were spread for balance. Matt handed her Collins’s AR-15. Bree rested the rifle across her body. Her eyes were on the water. She shouted, “Could you see if it was definitely Todd who went into the water?”
“No. Too dark.” Matt’s gaze swept the water, looking for a face. But all he could see was darkness and more darkness.
“There!” Bree pointed. A pale face appeared above the surface. Then he went under again.
Matt looped one arm through the life-ring rope and brought one foot up onto the side of the boat. The boat rocked as he pushed off without waiting for it to stop. He dived into the lake.
The water closed over him. Towing the life ring, he stroked toward the spot where he’d seen Todd. When he reached the approximate location, he spun, treading water, looking for Todd.
A head popped up a dozen feet away.
“Todd?” Matt yelled.
The head went under.
By the time Matt swam to him, he’d surfaced again. Hooking the life ring under one arm, Matt grabbed him with the other. It was Todd, and he was alive. Relief almost made Matt weak. “Grab the ring.”
Shivering, Todd gurgled an answer.
Holy shit.
His arms and legs were bound. He couldn’t hold on to the ring.
How was he even still alive?
“It’s OK. I’ve got you.” Matt couldn’t free Todd’s hands and ankles. The best he could do was keep both of their heads above water until Bree and Juarez could swing around and pick them up. Todd was pale and gasping. His face was beat to shit. Probably the rest of him too.
An engine screamed toward them. Matt turned, hoping to see Juarez at the wheel. Panic bolted through him as he realized it was the wrong boat. Stephanie Crighton was headed right toward them. There was no way for Matt to get them out of the boat’s path. He couldn’t swim fast enough with a fully bound Todd and a life ring in tow.
“We have to go under.” Todd spit out some water. “Let me go.”
Matt had no choice. If they stayed on the surface, they’d die.
“Deep breath.” Matt shoved the ring away and dived down. Exhaling as he swam down, he tried to keep hold of Todd. He would not lose the chief deputy, not after finally getting him back. But Todd wiggled out of his grip, dolphin kicking toward the bottom. Thankfully, neither of them had much body fat. They both sank like bricks.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Todd lost control of his respirations. His heart sprinted wildly. Below the surface, he forced himself to swim down. Down. Down. Until his feet hit the bottom. He kept going until his ass landed in the mud.
Oxygen starved, his lungs were on fire. Dizziness disoriented him.
His instincts screamed to surface. To swim toward the light. Toward air.
He heard the engine whine and felt the disturbance in the water as the boat passed over him. He counted to three, not wanting to get sliced by the propeller.
Then he pushed off the bottom of the lake toward the moonlight. His face broke the surface. He gulped air. He could still hear the whine of an engine. Which way was it going?