Sweet Water

by Lena North

  Suddenly a popping sound echoed through the room, and a small round piece of the window was lifted away. We moved to the side and then a small object fell from the ceiling to hit the floor in the middle of the room.

  As I watched the small, drab canister and the gray cloud of smoke pouring out from it, my brain went into overdrive in a way it hadn’t done since that night when I broke.

  I evaluated options, implications, and possible actions but whatever route I tried I came to the same conclusion.

  This was about me, and they might hurt me, but they wouldn’t kill me.

  They wouldn’t hesitate to harm anyone else, though, and this was a risk I couldn’t take.

  “We can breathe through the air hose leading into the pool,” I said quickly, looking at Dante. “Release it from the box, and it will reach the surface. I think you can just yank it off the fastening if you pull hard.”

  He nodded and immediately climbed into the pool. Our eyes met, and then he dove. I started walking toward the entrance, talking quickly as I walked.

  “Hold him back, Danny. Please. You have to make him think. You can breathe through the hose and leave through one of the windows in just a little while. Get help first, and then come after me.”

  Danny realized what I was about to do and started to run toward me, but he was too far away. I flipped the lock and opened the door, slammed the panic button as I walked out, and closed the door quickly again. I heard how the locks activated at the same time as Danny’s fist hit the wall behind me. The handle rattled, and I heard him call out my name, but I had raised my eyes to look at the men in front of me.

  There were six of them, standing silently in a semi-circle in front of me. I raised my chin a little, not willing to give them the pleasure of seeing how afraid I was.

  “I am Jiminella Nixée Sweetwater, and I’ll cooperate but only if you do no harm to my friends inside the house,” I stated loudly, proud to hear that my voice was firm and clear. I raised my chin and added defiantly, “Hurt either of them, and I swear to God that I won’t tell you a thing. Not ever.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Trust me

  The men were silent for a long time, and I held my breath. The wind seemed to have died down and the evening was eerily calm as if it was holding its breath too. A sound suddenly came from the trees lining the riverside, and my heart jumped when two of the men turned their heads.

  Joe.

  When we'd gone into the house, he’d not wanted to come inside, and since I thought it’d take us just a few minutes, I’d left him there, sniffing the bushes.

  “Are we leaving?” I asked, trying to get us away from the house so Danny and Dante could get out from the smoke-filled room and desperately wanting to leave before Joe came running up to me.

  “The four of you can stay behind,” one of the men grunted. “Keep your distance, watch the doors, so they can’t escape. It’ll take ten minutes, maybe fifteen, then the two men inside will have passed out, and they’ll be out for hours. Leave then, you’ll catch up with us easily.”

  Then he ordered me to start walking and indicated with his hand that I was supposed to move along the path leading away from the village.

  We walked for what felt like forever, one man ahead of me and the other a bit behind. My mind was racing, but it was mostly about my friends. My dog. Dante. I knew the men marching me away from everything that had felt safe and happy wouldn’t kill me, at least not until they were sure I’d told them everything I knew. After that… I didn’t know. What I did know was that I couldn’t to go back to Marshes again, and it felt like my heart had exploded in my chest, but it didn’t matter. Whatever happened I wouldn’t bring that kind of danger back into the small peaceful village.

  Then suddenly a growl came from the side, and the man at the front of me raised a hand, indicating that we should stop. Something rustled in the bushes, and there was another outdrawn growl. I wanted to shout out to my stupid, brave, dog to leave, but I wasn’t sure if it’d help and I guessed that he wouldn’t obey anyway.

  “Stay,” the man ordered me and started walking toward the bushes.

  I took a deep breath and knew what I had to do. The path turned sharply right in front of me, and the trees and undergrowth were thick. My beautiful golden boy was giving me a chance to escape, and I would take it. There was another growl, and the man behind me took a few steps toward the side.

  Then I ran.

  Behind me, a loud commotion erupted. There were barks and growls, and I heard one of the men shout something. I hoped Joe had bitten him, but I didn’t look back. A shot was fired, and I held my breath, but the barks and shouting continued. I turned off the path and made my way toward the riverbank, running desperately. I turned again and followed the river. The sounds faded slowly as I ran, but then there was another shot, and then another, and suddenly I couldn’t hear Joe anymore. I whimpered, once, worried that they’d killed him but hoping that they’d be more interested in following me so if they’d injured him then they’d leave him behind. Either way, I wouldn’t let his bravery be in vain, so I kept pushing forward. After a little while, I veered off from the river and made my way out to the path again. It was dark so they wouldn’t see me, I thought, and I could run faster and with less noise on the smooth surface.

  When I was completely out of breath, I slowed down and tried to keep the rattling in my chest to a minimum, listening for sounds of my followers. I thought I heard something and started jogging slowly, thinking through my options. Then I turned off the path again, away from the river, and kept moving until I found a huge fallen tree trunk with some thick bushes around it. Hoping I made the right choice, I crept in under the vegetation, stretching out along the trunk, so close that I was partially under it. I wore dark jeans and a black tee, and I hoped they’d pass without noticing me.

  As I lay there, I tried to estimate the time that had passed since we walked away from the lab. If Dante and Danny hadn’t passed out, then they would be out of the house in a little while. They’d probably run back to get men from the village and start following us, but it would take some time. I would have to hide for at least another half an hour, probably longer.

  Then I heard soft footsteps approaching, and I stopped breathing.

  “Fuck,” someone muttered, and the voice was close. Too close.

  “What?” another voice said.

  I held my breath because the men had stopped just next to the bushes I was hiding behind. One of them held something that gave off a soft light, and when he shook it a little and twisted it around, I saw their legs. They took a step over a couple of branches, and I pressed my lips together because when they did, I saw one of the men’s feet. He wore blue socks with a thin yellow line around the ankle, and I recognized them. The man who had broken into my condo in Prosper had worn the same kind, and suddenly I knew why the look of them had bothered me then.

  “We had a good signal by the village, but it’s weakening. I can’t get a lock on her,” the first voice said.

  “Let’s keep going in this direction. The girl is bright. She’ll run toward the main road where someone could come driving.”

  There was an affirmative grunt, and the feet disappeared. As the steps faded away, I lay completely still, thinking about what they’d said. They were tracking me? None of them had touched me or even been close enough to plant a device somewhere. As I moved slowly to get out of my hiding place, I figured it out because it literally poked me in my belly.

  I had my phone with me. I’d tucked it into my front pocket when the smoke grenade had hit the floor into the pool room.

  Moving quickly, and as silently I could, back toward the river, I thought about what to do. I’d have to throw it away, but first… Yes, I decided. I’d risk them hearing me, and call for help.

  Wilder didn’t pick up her phone, which felt anticlimactic. There I was, running through the dark night, chased by a group of men, and my girlfriend couldn’t pick up her goddamn phone.


  “You’d better not be busy hanky-pankying with Mac,” I muttered under my breath.

  I kept running, and then it hit me. “Next time shit hits the fan, Jinx, you call me. You don’t deal, and you don’t call the cops. You call me.”

  Miller had told me that after someone had broken into my condo in Prosper. It felt like a lifetime ago, but I almost sobbed with relief. The fan was so full it’d create a shit-tornado if someone turned it on, but I knew help would be coming from the village and I knew Miller would come too.

  “Jinx,” he said before the first tone had even stopped ringing.

  “I need help, Mill,” I wheezed.

  “Hold on,” he clipped, there was a clicking sound, and then he continued, “Everyone is on the line Jinx.”

  I could hear their bikes in the background, and I knew that they had fitted their helmets with headpieces for their phones. Apparently, they could do group chats too.

  “Six men, outside the lab. They threw in a smoke grenade, I got out and pressed the panic button. Danny and Dante are still in the house, but it’s locked down.”

  “Fuck,” I heard Hawker mutter, but I kept talking.

  “They want me. It’s not the lab, it’s me. Two of them walked me away from the house, my dog attacked, and I got away. They shot –” My voice hitched, and I heard Miller murmur my name. Then I went on, “They had a scrambler so we couldn’t call for help from the house. They’re tracking my phone, though, so I have to get rid of it.”

  My ears were ringing, and there was a soft echo, but I kept running along the path.

  “We’re on our way back,” Miller said. “Mac and Wilder headed back already when the alarm went off. The rest of us turned when your name lit up my phone.”

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  “Kit is talking to his dad right now, and Carson is starting up the chopper. He’s half an hour out. Wilder and Mac should be there about that time too, maybe even sooner.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  “Hold on Jinx, I have Dante on the other line,” I suddenly heard Mac say.

  There was another clicking sound, and then I heard his voice.

  “Nellie?”

  My throat closed up, making it hard to breathe, and I swallowed furiously. I had to keep moving, had to get a grip.

  “Baby,” I whispered softly.

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “Where are you?”

  “I have to keep running, and I have to throw my phone away, they’re tracking it.”

  “Go up the river. We’ll get a boat and come get you that way.”

  Yes, I thought. That was a good plan. The echo was back on the line, and I stopped running, listening carefully, thinking about what it meant and fearing that I knew. If they could hack into our alarm and track my phone, then they could easily listen in on my phone calls.

  “There’s not use doing that,” I said as I started running again. “I’ll just do what Joe would have done, Dante,” I added, hoping that anyone listening in on our call didn’t know the name of my water dog.

  “Nellie, no –”

  “I’ll run toward the main road. Mac and Wilder will come that way, so I’ll meet them.”

  “Ne –”

  “I’ll do exactly what Joe would have done,” I interrupted, closed the call and moved away from the river.

  When I’d run a minute or two, I threw the phone as far ahead of me as I could, and turned back to cross the path and continue down to the riverbank. I followed it, and it was slower, but I was planning as I moved along, knowing that if I followed the path or hid under some bushes, they’d find me. If I was by the river, I could go into the water, and try to reach one of the many small islands that filled the inlet. They could follow me, but it would be virtually impossible for them to see me in the dark water.

  I counted the minutes as I jogged along the river, hoping that Dante had understood my reference to my water dog. My throat clogged when I thought about Joe and the shots I’d heard. Had they killed him? They probably had, and the thought made it hard to breathe so I pushed it to the back of my mind and kept moving until I couldn’t run anymore. I was exhausted, so I bent forward, tried to breathe quietly, and listened.

  Nothing disturbed the soft lapping of water and quiet rustle of leaves at first, but then I heard something, and I straightened. There was another soft crack, and I saw a small glimmer of light. It wasn’t close, but it wasn’t far away either, and I was not waiting to see if they’d pass me. I’d been lucky once already, and I figured the odds of them walking straight past me one more time was slim, so I slipped out of my sneakers and pulled off my jeans. Then I hid them under a bush and slid into the water.

  It was cold, but I had expected that, and as I swam, I looked to the sides hoping to find an island I could get to. At first, I couldn’t see anything. The water was dark, and it seemed to blend with the night, so I felt as if I’d fallen into a pitch-black hole. Then the clouds parted, and the moon gave me enough light to see the dark shadow of an island in front of me.

  The current was stronger than I expected, and as I swam, I made an estimation based on a guess of the distance, my general level of energy, stamina, the currents and water temperature. I thought I had a fair chance of making it. It felt good to have a goal, and I kept moving my arms and legs, counting the strokes as I moved through the water, closer and closer to the island.

  Without any warning, a log came floating out of the darkness, and it slammed into the side of my head. I cried out as it turned me around, and I had to use both hands to push it away. It scraped my arm and shoulder as it continued down the river toward the open sea, and I cried out again. Suddenly my mouth was full of water, and I coughed and spluttered, turning over to float on my back until I was breathing normally again.

  When I looked for the island, the current had carried me almost past it, and I wouldn’t have the strength to swim up the river. I wouldn’t be able to get to it. Immediately, I turned to see how far away from the shore I was, but there was darkness anywhere I looked. That’s when I realized the danger I was in. I didn’t know how far it was to go back, would absolutely not make it to the other side, and couldn’t see any other islands in the darkness. I also had no clue if Dante even understood that I’d go into the water so they might be on the main road looking for me.

  I kept swimming, but it was mostly to keep me floating while I tried to decide what to do. Go back seemed the best option, so I turned, but my arms felt like lead, and I was suddenly so tired. The cold water was affecting me, my head hurt, and my mind was spinning. I took a deep breath, but a wave filled my mouth with water at the same time, and suddenly I was under the surface, sinking. I tried to think as I was coughing and clawing my way up but it seemed impossible. Once I got my head above the surface, I coughed up more water and tried desperately to get some air into my lungs.

  Then a bird shrieked just above me. And then another one. When I raised my head, two large shadows were circling me, and I recognized Wilder s hawk. And Snow’s Osprey.

  I moved slower and watched them for a while.

  “If I don’t make it, tell them that I’m sorry. Tell them that I tried,” I rasped out.

  I was so tired, my head hurt, and I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. The birds shrieked again as if they tried to force me to not give up, so I pushed myself to continue swimming, although I didn’t move forward much, and my strength was disappearing fast.

  “Go left, Nellie. Go with the current.”

  The voice came from nowhere, and I looked to the sides, but all I could see was darkness. Then I realized that it was inside my head.

  Dante.

  “Trust me,” he said. “Go with the current.”

  I didn’t have to think. I trusted him, so I stopped swimming without hesitation, and concentrated on staying afloat. Moving with the soft sweet water through the night felt like a dream, and I wished I could close my eyes, just a little while. Then I heard the Osprey shrieking on my left
side, again and again.

  With an effort, I turned my head and there it was. A dark shape loomed, and it was close. Gathering my last strength, I started moving my arms and legs, stroke after agonizing stroke. It felt like forever, and I wasn’t sure I’d manage to veer off fast enough, but finally something grazed my leg. I did one more stroke and felt the bottom of the river under my feet.

  Then I crawled up on the island and lay there, face down. Breathing. Alive.

  I wasn’t safe, but I would be, and I was injured, but I’d heal. I lay there for a long time without moving, but I didn’t care. Eventually, someone would find me. The birds knew where I was so someone would come up the river from Marshes, and they’d find me.

  Several minutes passed, and all I could find in me to do was breathe deep ragged breaths of the fresh, cool night. Slowly my left hand curled up, grabbing a handful of muddy soil from the river bank as if it on its own accord tried to hold on to solid ground. Dante had told me what to do, and I knew that if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have made it. Then I started crying.

  A soft chirping sound made me slowly open my eyes. Wilder’s beautiful black hawk sat next to me with its head tilted as if it tried to assess how I felt.

  “I’m good,” I whispered. My voice was hoarse, so I cleared my throat, and tried again. “Tell Wilder I’m okay.”

  The bird chirped again and made a small movement with its head, and I hoped that it meant that she’d pass on the information. Wilder would let the others know, I thought. My whole body ached, and when I pulled myself up to a sitting position, there were sharp, piercing jolts of pain radiating from the left side of my head. I prodded it carefully with two fingers and realized that I had a cut a couple of fingers wide from where the log had hit me. It was in my hairline, just behind my temple and I started calculating how much blood I would have lost during my time in the water.

  Another thought struck me, and I turned to the bird. “Tell Wilder they have to find my dog. They have to follow the path from the lab, to look for Joe. Mac should go, he’s a vet, and they shot Joe. Please tell them…”