The Apothecary Page 0,88

held it furiously like a warrior with a club. His forehead was bleeding. I scrambled back and covered my head with my arm, waiting for the blow.

Then the pilot shouted something in Russian, and Danby turned.

I saw, out the windscreen, the dark cloud I had seen before, coming towards us. It was alone in the sky, and seemed to shift in the air, as if readying for something. Then it floated darkly around the windscreen, blotting out the light, and came through the open door. I felt a misty chill that wasn’t like the blunt Arctic cold but more insidious, as if damp fingers of fog were clutching at my heart. The dark vapour enveloped the helicopter. It wanted to envelop us. It was attacking.

The pilot, blinded by the vapour over the windscreen, shouted something in Russian. Danby dropped the wrench as the helicopter pitched suddenly to one side, and we all grabbed for something to hold on to. I caught a seat belt in one hand and Benjamin in the other, with my arm across his cold chest and under his arm. The helicopter was heading fast towards the water.

The others were in chaos, shouting commands at each other. Benjamin started to slip from my arm, and I was going to lose him. He was too heavy, and the helicopter was tilting too sharply towards the waves below. Finally I had to make a choice: the seat belt or Benjamin. I let go and grabbed his other shoulder, and we slid towards the open door.

There was a sickening plunge, and then we hit the water and sank below the surface. It was like being immersed in icy slush. I kicked to the surface, my arms still tight around Benjamin’s chest. When I got my head above water, I tried to breathe, but the muscles in my throat seemed to have seized up in the cold. I tried not to panic.

The swells were so big that I couldn’t see where the helicopter had crashed in the water, and I couldn’t see the shore. I held Benjamin’s head up and started to kick in the direction I thought the shore might be. I tried to remember how far from land we had been—a hundred yards? Two hundred? I had no idea. My throat relaxed enough to let a little air through, but my legs were so cold that they barely responded to my brain’s commands. In junior lifesaving, back in Los Angeles, they had taught us to take off our heavy, wet clothes in a rescue, but that was in warm California, in summer—I didn’t dare do it here. I’d need the clothes if we ever got to shore.

I kicked and pulled and sank, and fought my way up to the surface, where I caught a glimpse of the island, but it didn’t seem to be drawing any closer.

Another wave came over both of us, dark and salty and freezing, and I kicked to the surface again. I heard Benjamin cough and sputter, regaining consciousness.

“So cold,” he whispered.

“I know,” I cried. “Kick! Help me!”

He seemed to grasp the situation, looking around at the waves as I struggled to tow him. “I can’t,” he said. “Let me go.”

“No! Kick!”

“Let me go, Janie,” he said. “Save yourself.”

“Kick!” I screamed, drowning him out. But I knew he was right. I was going to have to make a decision. My hands and feet were completely numb. I might still be able to save myself, but if I kept trying to save him, we were both going to die. The most important thing is not to become a victim yourself—the lifeguards had taught us that, on those giggling, sunny days at the beach, when the very idea seemed impossible.

“Please, Janie,” Benjamin said, and then another wave came over the top of us.

It tumbled us down, filling my mouth with salt water, and we sank. The water was so dark and cold. I tried to kick towards the surface, but the surface didn’t seem to be there. I felt myself drifting, still holding on to Benjamin’s chest, feeling oddly calm. At least we would die together.

And then something caught me by the hair and pulled me up, and my face was above the surface again. I gasped, choking, as I was dragged backward across something hard. I tried to hold tight to Benjamin, but he was being dragged up, too—I didn’t have his whole weight in my frozen arm anymore.

We were in a boat. It was narrow,