Page 110 of Casualties of War
Everyone hung over the boat, watching Adán’s flashlight cast about in the water as it sunk deeper. Then the direction steadied. He’d foundthe float.
The cone of light grew smaller, until it was a pin-prick. Then nothing.
“Fuck me,” Ramirez breathed, awed.
Parris’ heart thudded in her temples and her ears, marking the passing seconds.
“Two minutes,” Locke said, staring at his watch.
“What’s he going to do if he finds the cobalt?” Odesky asked. “He won’t have the strength to haul it up.”
“And we’re unequipped to handle it,”Parris replied. “Wewillhave a precise location to give to the teams who can. That was the sum of our mission. Shut up for a bit, huh?”
“Sure, Captain,” Odesky said easily.
“Three minutes,” Locke said.
Parris closed her eyes. She started to shake. Is this what Locke’s wife went through while he was on tour? Is this what Stuart had gone through? No wonder Stuart had given up on her. No onecould withstand this tension, not for long. She was almost ill with it.
“Four,” Locke breathed.
Her eyes ached.Not here, don’t cry here, she pleaded silently. She blinked. The trembling spread. She gripped the oars, fighting it off.
“Is it the boat making that little shimmer, or something in the water?” someone asked.
“Shut up, idiot,” came the reply.
“Oh…”
Silence.
“Five.”
“Jesus Christ…!”
“Shut up, shut up!” Ramirez hissed.
“Watch for a returning light,” Locke told them. “Yell when you spot it.”
Silence, except for the slap of tiny wavelets against the hull.
Locke glanced at his watch. He didn’t read off the time.
Parris closed her eyes again, her back bowing. It was impossible for someone to hold their breath for that long. Only, Adán had been certain he could. Had she senthim into danger? Had she killed him?
She shut down her mind with force, shunting away the fear and starving her imagination. Every time coherent thoughts tried to form, she reached for the black nothingness to replace them. She slowed her breathing and reached for calm and hung there.
Time passed.
“Shit! Is that a light, down there?”
Parris thrust the jolt of hope away, too. She waited, suspended.
“Definitely light,” someone murmured. “He’s coming back.”
“Why isn’t he coming up faster? I’d be clawing for air by now.”
“He has to stay behind his bubbles, or he risks getting the bends.”
