“I’ll let you die,” Sara warned, never more certain of anything in her life. “Tell me where she is.”
“I’ll tell you on th-th-the shore,” he mumbled.
“Tell me now,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t leave her somewhere to die alone.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said, a spark of understanding in his eyes. “I wouldn’t leave her alone, Sara. I wouldn’t let her die alone.”
Sara moved her arms out to her side, trying to keep her body moving so that she would not freeze. “Where is she, Jeb?”
He shook so hard the boat shuddered in the water, sending small wakes toward Sara. He whispered, “You need to save her, Sara. You need to save her.”
“Tell me or I’ll let you die, Jeb, I swear to God, I’ll let you drown out here.”
His eyes seemed to cloud and a slight smile came to his blue lips. He whispered, “ ‘It is finished,’ ” as his head dropped again, but this time he didn’t stop it. Sara watched as he let go of the boat, his head slipping underwater.
“No,” Sara screamed, lunging toward him. She grabbed the back of his shirt, trying to pull him up. Instinctively, he started to fight her, pulling her down instead of letting her pull him up. They struggled this way, Jeb grabbing her pants, her sweater, trying to use her as a ladder to climb back up for air. His fingernails raked across the cut in her arm, and Sara reflexively pulled away. Jeb was pushed back from her, the tips of his fingers brushing across the front of her sweater as he tried to find purchase.
Sara was pulled down as he climbed up. There was a solid thud as his head slammed against the boat. His mouth opened in surprise, then he slipped soundlessly back under the water. Behind him, a streak of bright red blood marked the bow of the boat. Sara tried to ignore the pressure in her lungs as she reached toward him, trying to pull him back up. There was just enough sunlight for her to see him sinking to the bottom. His mouth was open, his hands stretched out to her.
She surfaced, gasping for air, then ducked her head back underwater. She did this several times, searching for Jeb. When she finally found him, he was resting against a large boulder, his arms held out in front of him, eyes open as he stared at her. Sara put her hand to his wrist, checking to see if he was alive. She went up for air, treading water, her arms out to the side. Her teeth were chattering, but she counted out loud.
“One–one thousand,” she said through clicking teeth. “Two–one thousand.” Sara continued counting, furiously treading water. She was reminded of old games of Marco Polo, where either she or Tessa would tread water, their eyes closed, as they counted out the requisite number before searching each other out.
At fifty, she took a deep breath, then dove back down. Jeb was still there, his head back. She closed his eyes, then scooped him up under his arms. On the surface, she crooked her arm around his neck, using her other arm to swim. Holding him this way, she started toward the shore.
After what seemed like hours but was only a minute at most, Sara stopped, treading water so that she could catch her breath. The shore seemed farther away than it had before. Her legs felt disconnected from her body, even as she willed them to tread water. Jeb was literally deadweight, pulling her down. Her head dipped just below the surface, but she stopped herself, coughing out the lake, trying to clear her mind. It was so cold, and she felt so sleepy. She blinked her eyes, trying not to keep them closed too long. A small period of rest would be good. She would rest here, then drag him back to the shore.
Sara leaned her head back, trying to float on her back. Jeb made this impossible, and again she started to dip below the water. She would have to let Jeb go. Sara realized that. She just could not force herself to do it. Even as the weight of his body started to pull her down again, Sara could not let go.
A hand grabbed her, then an arm was around her waist. Sara was too weak to struggle, her brain too frozen to make sense of what was happening. For a split second she thought it was Jeb, but the force