Rodriquez gave him an “I don’t know” gesture.
He swam in another tight circle, once, twice. Water foamed around him, weighing him down. He stared every which way, trying to calculate where the water might have dragged her. It was not possible that she hadn’t made it out.
His memory churned and brought him back to that moment from the past, Mackenzie’s voice blazing with anger, disbelief, anguish, all of the above.
“He’s dead, Gideon.”
He heard again the glass-sharp words when she’d told him her brother had been murdered. The bullet shattered five lives that day. Aaron’s and his sister’s, their parents’, and Gideon’s. Maybe Aaron’s girlfriend’s too.
And if Mackenzie drowned now, how would he tell her parents?
Not her too. It wasn’t possible.
“Do you see her?” he shouted to the cop, uncertain if he could even be heard.
The cop’s position was higher; he’d have been ableto spot her. Rodriquez looked, almost slipping from the bridge support as he scanned.
Five seconds, ten, fifteen. The cop shook his head.
Unacceptable answer. He’d find her himself.
He struck out a few yards away from the pillar and peered around again.
She’d been tired, injured maybe, unable to reach the first bridge support. The flow would have pulled her closer to the next one. He let the current carry him a few yards downstream, dodging a whirling hunk of wood pallet a millisecond before it would have bashed his skull in.
The next nearest bridge support on the west side was concealed behind plumes of white water. He pushed himself harder and came abreast of it, certain he’d see her.
She wasn’t there. His heart dropped.
Pinpricks of black danced in his pupils. He was breathing hard, his strength slowly draining away. He stopped, treading water, shouting above the roar.
“Mackenzie!”
The river answered, but he heard no human reply.
He hollered again, throat tight, fear ripping through his soul. In the far distance, he could still make out the bridge support where the survivors clung.
The cop was gesturing forcefully, the message clear.She’s gone. Get out of the water or you’re going to die, you fool.
The sergeant was right. Adding another victim wasn’t going to save her. But she could not be gone, and there was no way he could give up the search. That wasn’t in his creed, nor his DNA. Not for anybody and especially not for Aaron’s sister.
“Mackenzie!” he shouted.
To his left, he thought he heard something. He yelled again and then he was certain he heard a high-pitched answer. Through the pummeling water he saw a pile of debris. Pulse pounding, he swam hard until he approached a mass of branches that had formed a snag. A flash of orange jumpsuit made his spirit soar.
Thank you, God almighty.
The branches had caught her as she’d tried to reach the other pier. The water seized him in a freezing grip, doing its best to yank him onto another course. He doubled down, tucked his chin, and hauled.
When he finally reached her, she was clinging to a twisted branch, only her head and shoulders above water. He made it close enough, secured himself to a protruding branch next to her, and let the water pin him in place rather than fighting against it.
Her teeth were chattering, lips blue. “Did they make it out? The women and the cop?”
“Affirmative. They’re holding in place, waiting for rescue, like you should be.”
She didn’t answer, just shivered, her fingers like white marble as she held on.
He tamped down his combination of anger and relief and focused on calculating an ending where they didn’t both drown. “It’s too far and too rough to swim back to their position,” he told her. “Can you make it to the next pier if we go together? The water will do most of the work.”
