Page 96 of Hold Your Breath
He shook his head. “I already have weights in the BCD pockets,” he said, motioning for her to attach the belt. She did, as he checked the tank pressure and tapped the regulator button, getting a burst of air in response. His mask was next, and she tucked the edges beneath his hood, trying to ignore how hard her hands were shaking. He stood, lifting the oxygen tank from its stand as he did so.
“Harness,” he said, and she scrambled to fasten it around him. When she crouched to slide on his fins, he shook his head and held out his hands for them. “I’ll put them on closer to the entry point.”
She nodded, following behind him as he exited the back of the van. Before he opened the door, he stopped.
“Gloves and radio,” he said.
Shaking her head at her scattered brain, she hurried to yank on her gloves and grab her portable.
The wind was a shock as they left the van. “Stay on shore,” Callum shouted over the howling gusts. “Call it in once I’m in the water.”
She nodded silently, her eyes fixed on his masked face. He leaned in and kissed her, quickly and firmly.
“You’ve trained for this,” he yelled as he walked onto the ice. “You’ve got this.” And then he was gone, swallowed by a wall of snow.
Lou stood, frozen, until a tug at the rope coiled in her hands jerked her out of her paralysis. She hurried to release the next loop, giving slack until Callum’s forward movement stopped. After she counted to twenty-eight, there was forward pressure on the rope again. She guessed he’d been putting on his fins during the pause.
Although she squinted toward where she’d momentarily glimpsed the hole in the ice, all she could see now was snow. She fumbled for her portable radio and pushed the mic button.
“Dispatch, 1244.”
“Unit calling, you’re unreadable,” the dispatcher’s voice responded.
Turning so her back was to the wind, she curled around her radio and tried again.
“1244, go ahead.”
“Diver One is in the water,” she said in a near shout as the wind gave an extra-hard blast.
“Copy. Diver One in the water.”
“Do you have an ETA for other responding units?” Lou asked, desperation creeping into her voice.
There was a pause, and then a different voice said, “Fire Rescue Four. We’re approximately twenty minutes out.”
“Ambulance Two. We’re right behind Fire Rescue Four.”
“County 401.” She recognized Rob’s voice. “Two squads en route. ETA twenty-five minutes.”
“Fire Rescue One,” another person said. “Just leaving Station One. Eighteen minutes out if we manage to stay out of the ditch.”
Lou closed her eyes. Eighteen minutes felt like a lifetime. “Copy.”
Dropping her radio into her coat pocket, she released another loop of rope. “You’ve got this, Cal,” she muttered, squinting through the snow. “You’ve got…”
She trailed off as the rope went slack in her hands.
Staring at the suddenly limp line, she started recoiling the rope, her movements getting jerky with panic as she pulled it in with no resistance. She gasped when the end appeared, sliding across the ice and then bumping along the shore. Dropping the coils, she grabbed the end, yanking it off the ground.
It had been cut. The nylon fibers were sliced evenly across the end. There was no way it could’ve snapped so cleanly. She stared for several precious seconds, trying to comprehend why his safety rope had been cut. Had the line gotten hung up on something and he had to use his diving knife to slice himself free?
She stared through the snow until her eyes stung, but she couldn’t see anything beyond the sheet of white.He’s okay, she told herself.With all his gear, he’ll stay warm, even in the freezing water.Without the rope, though, getting the victim—or victims, if the caller had decided to try to play rescuer—out of the water was going to be difficult, if not impossible. She had no idea what to do.
But she had to do something.
With sudden determination, she ran back to the dive van. She scrambled into a dry suit, twisting awkwardly to fasten the back. The hood pulled at her hair as she used gloved fingers to poke it back out of the way. Getting into her BCD and weight belt took much too long, thanks to her nerves and the dry gloves. As she tested her regulator, she looked at the unfamiliar-looking breathing apparatus and remembered reading that cold-water regulators were required so they didn’t freeze and allow oxygen to free-flow, releasing her precious air supply. Her previous tropical diving experience had definitely not prepared her for this.
Eighteen minutes, though. Eighteen minutes until help arrived, and that help wouldn’t include any trained rescue divers. Eighteen minutes was too long for the victims. If something was wrong, it would be too long for Callum, too. Lou beat back that line of thinking and the panic it induced.
