Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I will not fucking die here.
Then I spot something. Just a blob in the water, but it's light colored and sometimes an arm flips out of the water and splashes again.
Mila.
She’s completely caught in the current, spinning out of control and bobbing in and out of the water. I swim with everything I’ve got, letting it carry me straight to her. I call her name and get a mouthful of gritty water out of it. But for a moment, she spins and I get a flash of her terrified face as she struggles to stay afloat. Did she hear me? See me?
And then I'm there, like the water decided we belong together, so sudden that we almost crack heads. But I get my arms around her. “Mila!”
Her eyes pop open, but they're unfocused. She tries to say something, but starts coughing on the rushing water instead.
I look ahead, to see if there's anywhere for us, someplace we can get out of the water. An old railroad bridge crosses the river a little ways downstream, and there’s a wide support right in the center of the river. If we’re lucky, there will be something to grab onto, and maybe even a ledge or platform.
Otherwise, we’re fucked.
A bent piece of rusty rebar sticks out from a part of the base that's crumbled away, and with one arm around Mila, holding her tight, I bend my other arm to try and hook the bar. Something in my shoulder pops when I hit, but we finally fucking stop. The muscles in my arm and shoulder scream as I pull us closer, around to the other side where the water is more calm. Mila coughs, and I’m not sure she entirely knows what's going on yet, but at least we're not spinning wildly down the river anymore.
Using the rebar for leverage and praying to every fucking god out there that it'll hold, I try to push her up. “You gotta help me, girl. Can you push off, or get hold of something?”
And whether it's adrenaline or my voice, she nods, reaching weakly to grab a second bar. With me pushing on her ass, she manages to pull herself up and drops on the narrow platform. On her hands and knees, she moans miserably and vomits up water before flopping over on her side. “Ew,” she whimpers.
“Mila, I need your help.” I hate saying it, but I'm not gonna be able to pull myself up on my own. I’m pretty sure I need to get my shoulder back in its socket and I'm only gonna get one or two attempts at this before my strength gives out.
She nods. “Coming.” She braces herself against the bar she used and then holds out her hand. “I don't know if I can pull you out.”
“I've got some leverage. Just need a little—” Water fills my mouth. I spit it out, frustrated. “Just hold on, okay?”
She nods, and we clasp hands. Fuck, she's cold, but one thing at a time. Under the water, my boot catches on something and I use every remaining ounce of my strength to pull myself up. The rebar bends with an ominous creak, but I’m afraid if I pull any harder on Mila, I’m just going to pull her back in and we might not have the energy to do this again.
But it works. She grits her teeth and spreads herself out enough to make a good enough counterweight for just long enough to let me roll myself up onto the base next to her. There's barely enough space for both of us to lie next to each other, but it's enough. We're out of the water.
We're God knows how fucking far down the river, and this isn’t one of the nice areas where someone might jog by and see us, but we’re alive and not drowning anymore.
“You okay?”
“Y—y—yes,” she stammers, her teeth clattering together as her body tries to shake itself apart.
“Mila, I need to do something and you aren’t going to like it.”
“What?”
“I need to pop my shoulder back into place.”
She gapes at me in horror. “I’m a journalism student! N—not a nurse! Oh my God. Okay. Okay. T—tell me what to do.”
I kneel down and let my arm hang, trying to let the muscles relax so it doesn’t do even more damage. “Don’t let me pass out and fall back into the water.”
I grit my teeth and get it done. A wave of nausea nearly drops me as I feel everything slide back into place. “Fuck!”
“I’ve got you!” Mila grabs my waist and hugs me tight.
I’m not in any danger of falling, but I put my good arm around her and hug her back. She’s still shivering. “Baby, I think we should get out of our wet clothes. There’s still daylight left and they’ll dry faster that way. I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck here and it’s going to be fucking cold once the sun goes down.”