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"We need to help him!" Finn shouted, looking around for a way to reach the struggling boat. The storm was against them, but there was no turning back now. He wasn't about to watch a man die helplessly, even if that man had killed two people.
The shore of the Green Loch was uneven, jagged with stones and wet grass that made each step a slippery challenge. Yet Finn and Amelia navigated it with urgency, the piercing beams of their flashlights slicing through the gloomy night as they tried to get Alistair’s attention and urge him to row for his life towards them.
"Over here!" Amelia shouted, her voice swallowed by the roaring storm. The wind howled, whipping her hair around her face and tugging at her coat as if trying to pull her into the churning waters.
Finn, running slightly ahead, spotted an old mooring not too far from where they were. It was rusted, looking long-abandoned, but what caught his attention was the silhouette of an old rowing boat tethered there, half-submerged in the water, its edges battered and worn from years of neglect.
"There!" he yelled, pointing it out to Amelia. He rushed towards it, feeling the weight of each second that passed.
Reaching the boat, Finn tried to gauge its condition. It had undoubtedly seen better days, and he couldn't be sure it would hold up against the stormy onslaught. But as Amelia climbed into it with determination, he felt conflicted.
"Finn, we have to do something!" Amelia shouted over the cacophony of rain and wind.
He looked out at the vast expanse of the loch. The situation had worsened. Alistair's boat had capsized, its lantern light snuffed out by the merciless waves. The hooded figure, undoubtedly Alistair himself, as his mother had pointed out, clung desperately to the overturned boat, his grip frantic and slipping amid the lashing rain and churning waters.
A feeling of dread consumed Finn. He knew he was about to watch a man die a horrible death. "Amelia," he yelled, grabbing her arm as she grabbed a large set of old oars and prepared to row out, "He won't last long out there! And you'll die trying!"
She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resolution. "We can't just stand here. We have to try."
The storm raged on, indifferent to three tiny dots in and around the green loch, fighting for survival.
Amelia's hand instinctively tightened on the oar, ready to thrust the boat forward into the wild abyss. But Finn’s hand closed gently around her arm, halting her.
"No," he said, his voice firm into her ear. "Someone needs to stay here on the shore, ready to get help if things take a turn for the worst."
Amelia met his gaze, frustration evident in her eyes. "So, you want me to just stand here while you..."
But Finn interrupted, "I've rowed before, Amelia. During some tough conditions, too. It should be me."
She hesitated, her teeth clenching, clearly struggling with the decision. The world shook around them in a spiral of thunderous wind and violence. With a resigned sigh, Amelia stepped back, letting Finn take the lead. "Just... be careful!"
Nodding, Finn positioned himself in the boat, his fingers wrapping around the oars. Pushing off the mooring, he was immediately thrust into the tempest, the boat bobbing violently as the waves tried to assert their dominance.
With each stroke, Finn's muscular arms tensed and relaxed in a rhythm that fought against the angry water. The wind challenged him, screaming in his ears, and the rain, no longer a mere drizzle, poured down in torrents, drenching him to the bone and pooling in the boat around his feet. Yet, every drop that hit his face only fueled his resolve.
An old ache began to throb in his shoulder, a haunting reminder of the gunshot wound from their previous case months ago, an injury that had never fully healed. Every twist and turn of the oar intensified the pain, but Finn clenched his jaw and soldiered on. Giving up wasn't an option.
As he rowed, his eyes remained locked onto Alistair's silhouette, barely visible amid the storm's fury. The man's desperate hold on his capsized boat was a beacon for Finn, guiding him through the raging waters of the Green Loch. He could not give in when a life was at stake, even if his too was now in jeopardy.
The storm's roar intensified, the loch's waters swooshing around in a monstrous death roll. The waves were jagged peaks and valleys, mercilessly testing Finn's balance and mettle. It felt as though the Green Loch had awoken, its waters determined to take another unwelcome island guest to their end.
A flash of lightning split the sky, followed by the earth-shaking growl of thunder. Finn's heart raced as the blinding white light illuminated the mooring in the distance behind him. Time seemed to stand still, the world slowing down just long enough for Finn to watch in abject horror over his shoulder as a mammoth tree teetered, then crashed down onto the mooring like a hammer on ice, taking with it the slender silhouette of Amelia, his partner, his friend.
"Amelia!" he cried, his voice lost in the storm, a single drop in a vast sea of noise.
Desperation surged through him, a tidal wave threatening to capsize his resolve. He was torn. Alistair was mere feet away, his hands slipping, his eyes wide with fear. But Amelia, the woman who had been by his side through thick and thin, was now facing her own death struggle. If only he could see where she was, but the night would not give up that secret.
A fleeting image of Amelia's caring smile flashed in Finn's mind. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what she would want him to do. She'd want him to triage, to save the life that was there for the saving, over a dim hope.
With renewed purpose, Finn roared over the cacophony of the storm as he touched the capsize boat, "Alistair! Take my hand! Now!"
But the man was paralyzed with fear, his eyes darting everywhere but at Finn. The weight of the situation, the storm, the fear of death, all seemed too much for him to bear. He was curling up, slipping inch by inch in a fetal position.
For a heart-stopping moment, Finn thought all was lost. But turning his gaze once again to the spot where Amelia had vanished and then back again, desperation took over. "Listen to me, Alistair! If you don’t come with me, you'll die out here!" he yelled, putting every ounce of his authority and command into his words.
It worked. As if a spell had been broken, Alistair's eyes found Finn's. He lurched forward, reaching out. Finn, using every ounce of his strength, grasped Alistair's trembling hand. With a Herculean effort, he pulled the drenched man into the boat as a wave clattered them almost together.
The boat rocked dangerously under Alistair’s weight, but Finn's quick reflexes steadied it. Gasping for breath, Alistair lay sprawled across the boat’s floor, his chest heaving.
