As the dispatcher starts peppering me with questions, I flick on the little mag-lite I have attached to my keychain and shine it at the car. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to see—the rear window still above the waterline, with a person’s face pressed to it, or?—
No. I know what I’m hoping.
That it’s not a Subaru. That the car isn’t light greenish gray with a Blissful Brews sticker on the rear bumper. That it couldn’t be Hazel’s car…
Fuck.
Fuck.
It’s her car.
Hazel’s car is in the water.
Sinking.
A whirlwind of thoughts spins by in a blink.
It’ll take the police at least ten minutes to get out here. Even then, they won’t be able to go right into the water. They’ll need equipment. Boats. Divers. Shit?—
The car probably still has air inside it. But for how long?
Is Hazel unconscious in there? Badly injured? Bleeding out?
Is she already?—
No.
And I’m not going to just stand here, doing nothing.
Not when I have the skills to help.
Once the idea takes root, it sprouts quickly.
Already, I’m moving.
Peeling off my wool sweater and tossing it to the side.
Dropping my phone beside it.
Mentally running through strategies depending on what I find in the car.
Just before I hit the water, I tear off my shoes so they don’t weigh me down.
Then I plow through the icy water until I’m deep enough to swim. It’s breath-stoppingly cold, which isn’t a surprise given that it’s mid-October. But I’m prepared to handle extreme situations. Even though I was Army—Green Berets, more specifically—I still underwent extensive water training. And though I’ve been out for four years, I’ve never slacked off on my conditioning.
I can get to her car. Even with the frigid temperature, I’ve got plenty of time before hypothermia sets in.
But what condition will Hazel be in when I get there? Can I get her out? Will she be conscious and able to help me?
Shit. I wish I had more tools on me. But all I have is my Ka-Bar switchblade, which I never go anywhere without. And I’m not sure if that’s going to be any help.
With powerful strokes, I approach Hazel’s car. But the closer I get, the faster it seems to sink. By the time I’m twenty feet from it, the tail lights are barely above the water. Which means a rescue is going to be even more difficult.
By the time I reach her car, it’s fully submerged.
Despite my best attempts to stay calm, fear beats at me.
What if I can’t?—
