First things first. She had to find Tesla. Cradling her wounded arm, she paddled in a wide circle, searching for bubbles. If he didn’t surface soon, she might drift away. Already, she wasn’t sure where she’d first come up. She kept circling.
A plastic bubble popped to the surface. Inside, a dog barked soundlessly.
“Edison!” She swam toward him.
As soon as he saw her, he dove back underwater. He’d lead her straight to Tesla, if she could keep up. She angled her body downward and tried to dive. Her emergency suit bobbed to the surface. It wasn’t designed for this. But if she took it off, she might drown. She was a lousy swimmer with two arms, let alone one. She was a land-based bodyguard, not a lifeguard.
Edison surfaced again. He looked at her sternly. He knew her duty.
She would have to take off the suit. One-handed, she struggled with her zipper, but her cold fingers slipped off the tiny metal tab. Edison paddled over and bumped the handle on the back of his vest against her uninjured hand. Automatically, she grabbed it.
The second her fingers closed around the handle, the dog dove. She took a deep breath before he dragged her underwater. Once her legs were under, she kicked as hard as she could to help the poor dog. Her broken arm had gone mostly numb before, but it began to throb.
The dog towed her to where Tesla hung about twenty feet down, face pointed toward the dark water below. The silver sheet of light she’d so longed to reach had probably triggered a panic attack.
When she reached him, she let go of the dog and latched on to Tesla’s shoulder. His head shot up, and his arms wind-milled just like Guy’s had. She nearly lost her grip before he recognized her. His eyes were so wide they seemed to fill his snorkel mask, like an anime character. He was terrified, but he calmed down once he recognized her. One up on Guy.
Her suit lifted them both, and he stiffened. Movements frantic, he peeled her hand off his shoulder.
She fought to stay level with him in her buoyant suit. Her lungs burned. She held up one finger, hoping he’d guess that meant she’d be back soon. She needed air.
She headed back to the surface and took deep breaths until Edison arrived to pull her back down. This time, she knew how far to go, and she was in better shape when she reached Tesla.
He seemed calmer, too, and he took her good arm to stabilize her. She slid out of his grasp and moved his hand to her belt. They hung face-to-face in the water, slowly ascending. She had only a few seconds before he started to panic. Edison spotted the problem and pushed the handle on his vest into Tesla’s hand, then tried to pull them down. It slowed their upward movement and bought her time. Good dog.
Tesla released his hold on her belt long enough to hand her his spare regulator. She shoved it in her mouth, exhaled, and drew in a long breath. Already putting her buddy-breathing training to good use. Together, they could do this.
She drew her good arm out of her sleeve so it rested against her side. Then she stuck her hand in her warm armpit. That ought to get feeling back in her fingers. If she fumbled this, she wouldn’t get a second chance.
Tesla’s eyes were growing wider, and bubbles shot out of his regulator way too often. He was hyperventilating, barely holding it together. She was impressed he’d lasted so long so close to the light and the outside world. All things considered, he was actually pretty damn strong.
She reached into her pocket and took out the syringe. She’d been carrying the fast-acting sedative for months in case of an emergency in which Tesla needed to be taken outside whether he wanted it or not. This definitely counted.
In one quick movement, she stuck him in the shoulder, needle going right through his neoprene wetsuit and into his muscle. She pressed the plunger. He jerked back, and the syringe tumbled into the depths. Another piece of unappetizing garbage in the Atlantic.
His eyes went glassy. Wincing, she used the elbow of her broken arm to hold his regulator against his face. If it fell out, he’d drown. She started kicking toward the surface.
Tesla let go of her belt.
Edison sensed he was needed. The dog swam up past her to look at his master’s face. He bonked Tesla’s head with his bubble, and Tesla’s eyes moved to the dog’s. He smiled around his regulator and patted the dog’s back.
Without Edison pulling them down, they were heading up. She hoped the drug would keep Tesla calm. If he thrashed around, she couldn’t do much with one arm. On land, she’d choke him out, but the water put her at a disadvantage.
Tesla’s eyes rolled back, and she pressed the regulator hard against his mouth. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her arm. Nothing to do but wait out the ascent.
By the time they broke the surface, Tesla was completely out. She inflated his buoyancy compensator, and he tipped over to float on his back. The suit was clearly intended to keep unconscious wearers alive, a good thing as she couldn’t have held him up long with one arm. Edison paddled next to his master, nudging his limp form. Clearly, the dog didn’t like to see his master out cold. She didn’t blame him. It creeped her out, too.
But things were looking up. They were above the water breathing real air. She could hold on to Tesla and keep them together. And nobody had drowned. Except for that guy in the other sub. Unless he got crushed to death.
She tried not to think about that. She focused on the next minute, and the one after that. Eventually, those minutes would stack up, and the situation would change. Just stay alive for one more minute. That’s how she powered through stressful situations.
Edison huddled between her and Tesla. The dog didn’t have a wetsuit, and he’d started to shiver.
“Good boy,” she said, and realized he probably couldn’t hear her through his scuba bubble. She wanted to reach over and pet him, but couldn’t let go of Tesla. Her hand was a frozen claw, and she was afraid if she pried her fingers loose she’d never get them wrapped around the suit, and Tesla would drift away.
It had been several minutes since she’d first surfaced, although she refused to let herself count how many. Their transponders must be sending out signals like crazy, so each minute was bringing them closer to rescue. They weren’t going to die here.
Edison looked over at her, doggie eyebrows bent with worry.
“I hear you,” she said. “But we’re going to be fine.”
Edison probably couldn’t hear her inside his bubble, but he watched her lips. Maybe he could read lips. It wouldn’t surprise her. That dog could do just about anything.
“Good boy,” she said clearly and loudly. “You did a great job!”
The dog had done his best. She’d done her best. So had Tesla. Now they had to hope someone else was doing their best to find them. She hadn’t been so helpless in a long time, and she hated it.
Together, they drifted, an island of three in the vast blue sea.
Cold and exhaustion got to Vivian, and she dozed off. A sound jerked her out of her exhausted trance. Familiar, but she couldn’t place it. A thumping. Then she knew, and she practically wept with relief.
She tugged Tesla around to face the source: a blue and white helicopter with NYPD written on the tail — New York City Police Department’s Harbor Patrol.
She uncurled her clawlike fingers from Tesla’s suit and waved her good arm back and forth like a metronome. Their bright red suits and Edison’s yellow body were visible targets against the green water. Surely they’d be easy to spot. She waved again.
The chopper came in fast and low, and she waved. Edison made barking motions, but no sound came through his bubble.
The helicopter came right for them. The rotors kicked up water. Salty droplets stung her face, but she didn’t care. The cavalry had arrived.