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***
I shoot to my feet and run to the Ducati.
‘There will be no touching of the Ducati.’
I have no idea how to work this monster, but Marco did show me where everything is, and how it works. There is no way I could run all the way around to the other side of the lake in less than an hour or two, so I have no choice, do I?
Work for me, please, I think at the Ducati, as I press my right foot down, but nothing happens. It takes me two more tries, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from shaking so badly, because I can’t be of any help to anyone right now if I have a panic attack.
Finally, the little monster roars to life, and I hang on for dear life, thinking only of how to not fall, and steer it in the right direction. How I reach the other side of the lake alive and with the bike in one piece, I don’t know.
It’s as if I have left my body, and it’s just another machine, doing whatever I need it to do. I do not drive straight or safely by any consideration, but I do drive the Ducati all the way to where I saw Marco fall, at which point I grab the brakes, and jump off before the bike is properly stopped. It’s already been a full minute that he’s in the water. The force of the speed sends me sprawling on my knees, but I pick myself up immediately, and run to the rocks he fell from.
I jump into the water without taking even a split second to think about what I’m doing.
Big mistake.
I should have taken a split second. I should have taken a few hours to prepare.
But I don’t have a few hours, do I? I can see Marco’s body floating in the water, facedown, exactly where it fell. He’s beginning to go under.
The water is so freezing, it steals my breath immediately, and I heave, my lungs clenching shut, unable to draw air.
Come on, I tell myself.Breathe. It’s not hard. In, out. You do it all the time when you’re not in the water. Breathe.But I can’t. Extremely cold water does that to you. I try through my nose, and it kind of works (and kind of not).
Enough air comes in to keep me conscious, so I dive down, my face burning form the cold, to reach Marco. I hiss as the icy water assaults me with a thousand knives, and immediately water comes in my mouth, choking me.No, Liv, we need air in, not water.
I splutter to the surface, gulp in a choked breath of cold air, and dive back in.
After an eon of not breathing, I find him as he’s starting to drift to the bottom. I grab him and pull him to the surface. I turn him over, barely able to keep his face above the surface, and his limp body feels so heavy, I go under and nearly drown several times as I attempt to move him. Then I start looking for the blood. There is no time to pull him out of the lake and lay him on the rocks, not that I could ever manage it by myself. Right here, in the freezing water, is where it will have to happen.
I will have to either save him or say goodbye here.
I open his shirt—there is a round, bullet-shaped hole on his chest. I tear open his drenched sweater and shirt, and…
And there is no blood underneath.
No hole.
No wound.
Under his torn shirt, Marco is wearing a bulletproof vest. His chest looks completely unharmed. He has just fainted, I suppose, and he inhaled a ton of water while he was unconscious. And he’s dying. I press my fingers to his throat: his heartbeat is strong. But his lips are clenched shut, and he is not breathing.
I steady his head against my chest, kicking my legs furiously to keep myself afloat (at least, I think I am kicking them, but I can’t be sure, as I have lost all feeling down there) and I start doing CPR on him.
I count in my head, and press my lips to his. Not that I have any air of my own to give to him, as I keep gasping for breath and going under the whole time, but I do the best I can. If I have any air left, I give it to him. And I try to press my hands down hard on his chest, even though there is not much traction in the water. I lift my legs to wrap around him and keep him afloat, but it’s a losing battle.
I begin to sink, for real this time, and even though he’s finally opened his lips and water is gushing out, he hasn’t woken up.
“Marco!” I scream, my mouth filling with water. “Marco, come on, help me a little here.”
It all happens so quickly. The water suddenly closes over my head, and I have to fight to get to the surface. Except, I’m so tired. So tired. I could just go to sleep right here, and everything will go away. The cold will stop hurting, and Marco will stop being dead, and…
No. Wake up. Fight.
If I was ever planning on being strong, now is the time.
Now or never.
