Never Let Go

by Graysen Morgen

  Greg circled back around and hovered over the blinking light, thirty feet up. “Sector…6516. We have located the survivor. Deploying swimmer. Be advised, we are at bingo fuel. Over.”

  Finley sat on the edge on the open cabin door with the hoist attached to her harness.

  “Swimmer is ready,” Deacon said.

  “Deploy swimmer. Let’s make this quick, guys,” Greg said.

  Finley checked her harness when the hoist lifted her off the ground. She gave Deacon the thumbs up and he began to lower her down.

  “Swimmer is in the water. Swimmer is okay. Swimmer is away,” he said as Finley went into the water and raised her hand to indicate everything was good. Then, she unclipped the hoist line and swam over to the woman.

  When she reached the lifeless woman, Finley rolled her over, pulling her face from the water. Her motionless eyes were wide open. She checked for a pulse, knowing she wouldn’t find one. She softly ran her hand over the woman’s eyelids, pushing them closed.

  “6516…Rescue Swimmer. Be advised, survivor is DOA. Repeat: DOA. Deploy litter. Over.”

  “Swimmer…6516. Copy,” Greg replied.

  Deacon attached the litter to the hoist and lowered it down to the water. Everyone watched in silence as Finley put the woman’s body into the floating stretcher and connected the straps that would hold her head, torso, arms, and legs in place. Then, she gave the thumbs up signaling she was ready. Deacon hoisted the litter out of the water slowly and pulled it inside the helo, before sending the hoist line back down to retrieve Finley.

  When Finley was back in the helo, she checked the woman once more for a pulse, but she was long gone. “Alert: zero. Confirmed DOA,” she radioed with a sigh.

  “Sector Merritt Island…Search and Rescue 6516. Be advised, we are en route. Three minutes past bingo fuel. Survivor is DOA. Repeat: DOA. Alert: zero. Over,” Greg radioed.

  “6516…Sector. Copy.”

  Finley stared through the window at the stars in the cloudless sky. The moon was only a tiny sliver in the distance. Her eyes slowly fell on the lifeless woman in the basket. It wasn’t the first time she’d retrieved a dead body, and she’d had a handful of survivors die on her in flight over the years, but each time it reminded her how quickly life could be taken away.

  *

  When the helo landed, all of the service members on the base were standing outside with their caps in their hands, watching silently as Finley and Deacon unloaded the litter. An ambulance was parked nearby with the lights off. The two EMTs waited patiently to take the woman’s body to the local hospital for official purposes. Finley and Deacon worked with the EMTs to transfer her from the litter to the stretcher. Then, they backed away as the EMTs loaded her into the ambulance and checked her vitals one final time, before covering her with a thin white sheet.

  Finley let out a long breath as the ambulance drove away silently. She hated that part of the job. No matter what the circumstance, it never got any easier.

  “Do you think that woman jumped?” Deacon asked.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I didn’t see any visible injuries when I looked her over.”

  “What do you think makes people do it? You know, commit suicide? And on a vacation at that?”

  Finley shrugged. “No idea, D. I guess they give up and let go of life.”

  Deacon didn’t reply as he began his post flight inspection.

  Finley flattened the litter and stowed it away, before doing her post flight check. Then, she completed her paperwork and signed out.

  “I’m going over to Dunkin Donuts. You want to go?” Greg asked, catching up to her.

  “Really? A doughnut at four a.m.?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “Me either,” she sighed.

  “Come on, I’m buying.” He grinned like a cartoon character.

  “All right, but you’re going running with me later.”

  “Deal,” he laughed.

  “Aren’t you going to ask Deacon and Brian?” she said, referring to the flight mechanic and co-pilot who had flown with them.

  “Deacon’s had enough sugar to give a horse diabetes, and Brian has a new baby at home. This was his first standby shift since they brought the baby home.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I bet he’s tired. I remember those days…and nights,” she murmured, thinking back to when Caitlin was a new baby. She and Nicole had also had their hands full, learning the ropes of parenting a newborn together.

  *

  Halfway through a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee, Finley leaned back in the booth, staring at the sun rising over the parking lot, painting everything in an orange glow.

  “How long have you been a Coastie?” she asked.

  “Coming up on ten years. You?”

  “Almost thirteen and a half,” she replied, sipping her coffee. “If you could go be an instructor at the flight school for a few years, would you do it?”

  “You mean like between posts?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I don’t know. I think it takes a lot of patience, and I’m more of a hands on kind of person. What about you? Would you go be an instructor at the swimmer school?”

  “I definitely want to at some point in my career. Those men and women broke me down and built me back up into the person I am today. I was just a kid back then.”

  “I think you’d be great at it. I’ve definitely learned a lot just by working with you,” he said, grabbing another doughnut out of the box. “What made you bring this up?”

  “Just thinking about the future,” she muttered. “You’re going to have a hell of a time keeping up with me if you keep eating those things,” she laughed.

  “Who said we were running today?”

  “Actually, you can go swimming with me instead, if you want.”

  Greg shook his head. “I could never be a rescue swimmer,” he mumbled, closing the box.

  *

  Later that afternoon, Finley was half asleep on the couch when the local news came on. She heard the word cruise ship and immediately opened her eyes.

  “The forty-five year old woman, identified as Colleen Davis, who died tragically after falling overboard from the Centurion, a cruise ship owned and operated by Paradise Cruise Lines, may not have been the victim of a tragic suicide as first reported. Authorities haven’t commented beyond telling us that they have reason to believe foul play was involved.

  The Centurion was on the last leg of a cruise through the Caribbean from New Orleans to Boston and Ms. Davis had been accompanied by her boyfriend. She was reported missing early Sunday morning, and her body was later recovered by a Coast Guard Search and Rescue helicopter. We will keep you updated as we learn more,” the news anchor said.

  “Holy shit,” Finley whispered.

  Chapter 10

  A couple of weeks later, Finley was called into the office of the Command Master Chief when her shift ended. She removed her ball cap and sighed. She knew what he wanted. He needed an answer on the transfer to the swim school. An answer she wasn’t ready to give him.

  “I saw on the news where that woman from the cruise ship was pushed by her boyfriend,” he said shaking his head. “I hope they fry his ass.”

  Finley smiled in agreement. She’d been surprised to learn what had actually happened as well.

  “Did you make a decision on the instructor position?” he asked.

  “Not yet. I’m still thinking about it,” she said honestly.

  “What’s holding you back?”

  “I’m not sure I want to give up being in the field for three years. I know I can opt out after a year if it’s not working out, but I’d never do that. Knowing myself, I’d stick it out, no matter what. Therefore, I need to make sure it’s the right path for me to take right now. I’ve always thought about becoming a swim school instructor. Although, I’d planned on doing it a little later in my career, maybe when I was done in the field, you know?�
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  “That certainly makes sense. However, just so you know, taking this position isn’t a step down, a step back, or a step out the door. It’s being offered to you because you’re in your prime and there’s no one better to challenge and lead the next generation than someone like you.”

  Finley nodded.

  “I don’t need to send the transfer up the chain until December, so that gives you a few months. That’s taking it down to the wire though, so you’ll probably lose your requested choice of posts if you decide not to do it since the post transfers are usually completed two months in advance.”

  “I know,” she said. She’d thought of that as well. The only two bases she’d never been assigned to were Miami and the Bahamas, both of which wouldn’t be bad places to live for three years. Still, the idea of putting in for another stint in Savannah to at least be closer to Caitlin if she didn’t take the instructor position, had played on her mind. Her choice would be considered, but as a senior ranked rescue swimmer, she’d be placed where she was needed.

  *

  Finley was walking out of the hangar, towards the parking lot when she noticed a voicemail on her phone that mother had left two hours earlier.

  Finley, it’s Mom. Call me as soon as you get this message. Love you.

  Finley quickly pushed the button to call her, wondering what the urgent message was about. “Hey, Mom. Is everything all right?” she asked as her mother answered.

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?” Jackie Morris replied.

  “You left me a message to call you.”

  “Caitlin found out today that she’s marching in the Veteran’s Day Parade downtown with the ROTC.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes. I figured Nicole wouldn’t let you know in time to take off, which is why I called.”

  “I’m still at the base, so I’ll put in the request for the time off now,” Finley replied, turning around and walking back inside the hangar. She quickly said goodbye to her mother and ended the call.

  Commander Douglas was in his office when she knocked on the door and walked inside.

  “Morris? I thought you’d be gone already. Did everything go okay with the Command Master Chief?”

  “Oh, yeah. He had some transfer questions for me. Anyway, I need to put in a request to take off a few days in November. My daughter is marching in the Veteran’s Day Parade with her high school ROTC unit, and I’d really like to be there.”

  “That’s less than sixty days out,” he said, looking at the calendar. “Consider your request granted.” He smiled. “These are the kinds of things you don’t want to miss. Trust me, I know. Go ahead and fill out the paperwork. I’ll sign it now.”

  “Thanks,” she replied.

  “Are you going to swing by the training center while you’re up there?” he asked nonchalantly.

  Finley raised an eyebrow. She had no idea he knew anything about her offer to become an instructor.

  “I think it’s a great opportunity,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  *

  Finley slid into her SUV and pushed the button on her phone to call Caitlin. After ringing a couple of times, the gregarious teen answered.

  “Hey, Mom!”

  “Hey, kiddo. I hear you’re marching in a parade.”

  “Yep! Our whole unit is. Also, I passed my first advancement test, so now I’m an Airman First Class!”

  “Caitlin, that’s fantastic! I’m very proud of you.”

  “I was going to join the drill team, but with swimming, I won’t have time for all of the practices. So, I joined the color guard instead. They only practice once a week and it’s mostly marching, which we do in class anyway.”

  “That’s cool. Will you be with the color guard at the parade?”

  “We have two squads and I’m on the B squad, so probably not.”

  “Well, no matter where you are in the group, I’ll be there watching you,” Finley said.

  “Are you serious?” Caitlin squealed.

  “Yes. I’m coming in sometime the day before, so I was hoping maybe you’d want to come to Grammy’s and spend the afternoon with us after the parade.”

  “Awesome! I can’t wait to see you. How long will you be here? I have a swim meet on Monday.”

  “I have to leave the day after, which is Sunday, in order to be back on shift Monday. But, at least I get to come up and see you.”

  “That stinks, but I’m excited that you’ll be at the parade.”

  “Do me a favor, kiddo. Don’t tell your mother I’m coming up.”

  “Okay. Between you and me, I think she’d be happy to see you. All Dave does is make her cry.”

  “Nice,” Finley murmured.

  “Are you working tonight?” Caitlin asked.

  “No, I’m just getting off my shift, actually. I had a pretty long day.”

  “Did you save anyone?”

  “We got called out for a guy on a cargo ship who was having chest pain, so we transported him to the hospital. I didn’t have to deploy. We sent the basket down, he got in, and we hoisted him up.”

  “That’s no fun,” Caitlin sighed.

  Finley laughed. “I just pulled up at home, so I’m going to get off the phone. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  Finley tucked the phone into her flight bag and headed into the house. She used to love the quiet of coming home, but since Caitlin had stayed with her, she missed the hundreds of questions the kid would ask as soon as she walked inside.

  As she meandered up the stairs, she couldn’t shake the thought of Nicole being brought to tears by the person who was supposed to love her unconditionally. There was nothing she could do about it. Nicole had chosen that life. She knew why it bothered her, though, and there was nothing she could do about that either. Having Caitlin with her had also stirred up a lot of old feelings and memories that she’d buried deep inside.

  *

  A few weeks later, Finley moseyed into the hangar, dressed in her flight suit, and ready for the shift change. She hated the adjustment from nights back to days. It had always taken her an extra twenty-four hours for her body to get acclimated to the new sleep pattern. After nearly ten years of doing this every three weeks, she wondered if she’d ever get used to it.

  “You look tired,” Tracey said, bumping shoulders with her.

  “I am,” Finley replied with a yawn.

  “Here, have some of this.” Tracey grinned, handing Finley her large, steamy cup of coffee.

  The aroma was a little sweet and nutty, reminding her of hazelnut. Finley took a nice long swallow. Then, she choked and gasped. “What the hell was what?” she croaked, feeling like she’d just drank turbine oil laced with sugar.

  “Isn’t it good?” Tracey beamed. “This is those Robusta coffee beans from Indonesia I was telling you about. I mixed it with two scoops of Nutella powder and a little bit of milk.”

  “It’s strong, that’s for sure, and definitely sweet,” Finley stated, looking around for something to chase it with.

  Tracey laughed. “It’ll wake you right up.”

  Or give me a heart attack, Finley thought. “This is the stuff you bought from that shop in Miami?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it even legal?” Finley laughed.

  “Of course,” Tracey giggled. “It’s just a hell of a lot stronger than anything you can buy in the shops around here. They import it.”

  “What’s on the agenda for the day?” Greg asked, stepping up behind them.

  “Hey, try this coffee,” Finley said, taking the cup from Tracey.

  “Why? What’s in it?”

  “It’s just coffee,” Tracey replied.

  Greg took a sip and grimaced. “Yuck. I’ll stick to the crap they brew around here,” he said, holding up his Styrofoam cup.

  Tracey rolled her eyes and followed Finley out to the helo to do her preflight check, still drinking her coffee.

 
Finley was about to say something when the call siren rang loudly in the hangar. She and Tracey rushed inside to the ODO office.

  “A small plane with a single passenger sent a mayday call with engine failure a few minutes ago. He was fifty miles off of Daytona Beach. Twenty seconds after the mayday, the plane disappeared from radar,” CDR. Douglas said.

  “Roger,” Greg replied. “Saddle-up,” he said to the aircrew.

  Finley put on her bright red wetsuit, followed by her survival harness and water boots. Then, she grabbed her flight bag, along with her fins, mask, and snorkel.

  Tracey was the last person to enter the helo through the cabin door. She quickly pulled it shut and slid into her jump seat.

  “Crew ready for takeoff?” Greg asked.

  “Roger,” Finley replied.

  “Cabin door is closed. Ready for takeoff,” Tracey said.

  Greg manipulated the controls. The helo lifted off the ground with ease and headed towards the Atlantic Ocean. As soon as dispatch radioed him with the last known coordinates, he programmed them into the flight computer.

  Finley listened to the hum of the twin turbine engines and watched the blue water pass by through the window during the short, twenty minute flight.

  “Search and Rescue 6516…Sector Merritt Island. The pilot has been recovered by a fishing vessel in the area. Repeat: the pilot has been recovered. Return to base. Over,” the dispatcher radioed.

  “Sector...6516. Copy. Returning to base,” Greg replied.

  As soon as they landed, Finley hopped out of the helo with her flight bag. “Well, that was fun,” she mumbled.

  “No kidding. I’m glad I’m off for the next two days,” Tracey replied, checking her watch. She still had nine more hours to go on her shift.

  “Might as well not look. It’s going to be a long day,” Finley added, stowing her gear in her locker, before changing back into her flight suit and heading back outside to do her post flight check.