A man. He was able to talk underwater, which could only mean one thing: he was a finman. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't be sure.
I banged the nearest rock with my fist, three sharp thuds. My knuckles stung, but the sound carried. Again, three thuds. Then I clutched the regulator in both hands, as if holding it tighter would coax more air from it.
The silt shifted as he pulled at the rubble outside. I couldn’t see him, but I felt his presence through the water, the stubborn persistence of someone who refused to let go. For a heartbeat, hope flared bright enough to make me dizzy.
Then the regulator sputtered. Just once, a hiccup in the steady hiss.
My blood turned to ice. The tank was almost done.
Dark spots drifted at the edges of my vision, and it took all my strength not to rip the mask from my face in panic. I pressed my fist against the rock one more time – weak now, barely more than a tap.
I was out of time.
The regulator wheezed again, a hollow rattle that sent dread clawing up my spine. My lungs screamed for more, but I forced them to take tiny sips, stretching the last dribbles of air.
Then – light.
A thin beam lanced through the rubble, slicing into the murk. Rock scraped against rock outside, followed by a sudden rush of bubbles as a stone shifted free. Water swirled into the gap, pulling silt away, widening just enough to reveal a wedge of green skin.
His face pressed through the crack, algae filaments streaming behind him like ribbons. For a moment I thought I was hallucinating, but then his eyes locked on mine – sharp, steady, anchoring me.
It was him. I had hoped it... but here he was, the alien whose name I didn't even know. The finman who'd predicted the storm I hadn't foreseen. He smiled at me, but his expression was tense.
"I will get you out of there."
His lips moved before the words reached my ears. It all felt very surreal. Maybe I was hallucinating him. I wouldn't be surprised, given my desperate state.
"How much air do you have left?" he asked, his gaze intense.
I couldn't talk, unlike him, so I just shook my head dejectedly. He got the message. His eyes widened. He looked at the regulator, then peered into the dark cave behind me. Maybe his vision was better than mine, but even with the torchlight, I hadn't seen another exit. The tunnel quickly became too narrow for me to swim. I was trapped. I didn't need the alien to tell me that.
The regulator hissed a last thin stream, then fell silent. My lungs convulsed, desperate, dragging only seawater against the seal of my mask. Black specks swarmed the edges of my vision. I reached out, grasping for something, anything-
He grasped my hand in a strong grip that I would never have been able to escape from and pulled me towards the hole. I wouldn't fit through it. No way. Neither would he. It was pointless.
My lungs burned with a fierce pain. Then his face was there, centre of my diminishing vision. His eyes bored into me, steady, commanding: trust me.
He tore the regulator from my mouth. I tried to fight him, thrashing with panic, but he caught my jaw in one firm hand. And then his mouth sealed over mine.
Air surged into me. Not from the failing tank, but warm and rich, fed from his own lungs. My chest expanded, my vision cleared. A sob of relief slipped into the bubbles between us.
When he drew back, his gills flared wide, fanning the water. He inhaled deep, filtering the sea as though it were nothing, then bent to me again. Another rush of life, another kiss that left me shaking.
I clutched his arm, nails digging into slick green skin, terrified he might stop. But he didn’t. Again and again, he gave me breath, each exchange binding me closer to him, even as the rocks held me fast.
Alive, but not free. Not yet.
We couldn't stay like this forever. He'd managed to squeeze his head and one arm through the hole, but that meant he was now just as trapped as I was. If he wanted to continue clearing the rubble, he'd have to stop breathing for me.
The world had narrowed to a rhythm: darkness pressing in, the crush of rock around me, and then his mouth sealing over mine to deliver another precious rush of air. Each time, my lungs burned a little less, my panic ebbed a little more. Each time, I realised just how close we were, how much of my survival now depended on him.
I should have been terrified of the alien pressed against me, of his sharp teeth and the strange tendrils that drifted from his skin. Instead, I was terrified of him leaving.
The cave groaned again, a vibration that rattled my bones. Pebbles sifted down from the ceiling, bouncing off my mask. I flinched, my chest tightening all over again. My hand closed around his wrist, hard, begging him not to go, not to leave me alone in the dark.
His eyes caught mine through the haze of silt, glowing faintly with their own light. He shook his head, firm, steady, and pressed his mouth to mine again. Another gift of air, another reprieve.
The regulator floated uselessly at my shoulder now, hose limp. My tank was dead weight. I wanted to strip it off, to squeeze through the gap, to fight free – but the rubble held me too tight. I couldn’t move without the rock biting into my ribs and hips.
