Page 63 of The Maine Event

“Keep kicking, sweetie,” I urge, trying to sound calm despite the panic clawing at my throat. “You’re doing great. We’re going to be okay.”

But even as I say the words, doubt gnaws at me. The shore seems impossibly distant, a mirage shimmering in the gathering dusk. My arms and legs feel like lead, each stroke an agony of effort.

Chloe’s grip on the nameplate slips and she cries out in alarm. “Just let it go!” I tell her, tightening my hold. “Just hold to me.”

She nods, her face pale and pinched. She’s so young, so vulnerable.

I have to save her. Nothing else matters. Not the pain, not the weariness, not the fear. Chloe is all that matters.

With a burst of determination, I renew my efforts, pulling Chloe further on top of me. “Kick your legs,” I tell her,demonstrating. “Like you’re riding a bicycle. Hard as you can, okay?”

She obeys wordlessly, her small sneakers beating a rhythm against the water. I join her, propelling us inches at a time towards safety.

It’s grueling work, fighting the currents that want to drag us under. The water stings my eyes. My lungs burn with every gasp.

But slow stroke by slow stroke, kick by labored kick, the dock creeps closer. I fixate on it, pouring every ounce of fading strength into reaching it.

Just a little farther. Keep going. Don’t stop. For Chloe.

I’m not sure how long we flounder together, suspended between hope and dread. Time loses meaning beyond the ragged rhythm of our movements and the drumming of my pulse in my ears.

There’s only the cold. The currents. Chloe. The distant dock. And the single, unrelenting thought: We have to make it.

We have to.

A frantic yell from Chloe jolts me out of my semi-delirious struggle.

“Dad!” she screams, her voice ragged. “Dad! Help us!”

I turn my head, following her gaze, and nearly weep with relief at the sight of Dan’s car driving slowly along the coastal path. He jumps out, scanning the water, looking for us.

Hope surges through me, electrifying me. I join my voice with Chloe’s, shouting his name with what little strength I have left. “Dan! Dan, we’re here! Help!”

At first, he doesn’t seem to hear us, striding back towards his car, about to drive off. A knot of anguish twists in my chest. He can’t leave. Not now. Not when we’re so close…

“Dad!” Chloe shrieks again, desperation etched into the single syllable.

Finally, miraculously, his head snaps towards the water. I see the moment he registers our plight, his body going rigid with shock. Then he’s running, sprinting towards the bank of the river with a speed that would put an Olympian to shame.

He doesn’t hesitate for an instant when he reaches the edge, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket in one fluid motion. His phone and wallet hit the ground a split second before he dives into the water, cleaving the surface in a clean arc.

I nearly sob with relief as he swims towards us with powerful strokes, closing the distance in heartbeats. Moments later, his strong arms are around us, holding us up as he treads water.

“I’ve got you,” he says roughly, his eyes wild with fear and relief. “I’ve got you both. You’re okay.”

He checks Chloe over frantically, searching for any sign of injury. She clings to him, small hands clutching his shirt. Satisfied that she’s unharmed, he turns his attention to me.

“Are you alright?” he demands, his grip on my arm almost bruising.

I manage a shaky nod, too overwhelmed to form words. He seems to understand, pulling me closer until our foreheads touch, all three of us tangled together in a desperate embrace.

Gently, he pries Chloe off his chest and settles her on his back. “Hold on tight, kiddo,” he instructs. “Like when you were little, remember?”

She obeys, looping her arms around his neck and burying her face between his shoulder blades. With his hands free, Dan reaches for me, guiding my arms around his waist.

“Hang on to me,” he orders softly. “I’ll get us to shore. Just hang on, Rach.”

I do, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strikes out for the shore, his strong body cutting through the water with determined grace. The solid warmth of him against me is an anchor, a promise of safety amidst the lingering chaos.

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