Awakening, 2nd edition (36 page)

Alan sat on the stern, looking into the white boiling trail. The lake behind the stern was seething—Alex gunned the boat full throttle at the maximum speed and the indignant water roared angrily behind it. He recalled that he was supposed to be look ing around in search of Rob and Stella , and returned to his duties, squinting. Pre-noon sun was cruelly blasting everything from above, covering the water ’s surface with myriads of blinding glittering splinters. The green slopes around were lifeless—it seemed all life was hiding somewhere, escaping the withering light. Boat number four was also refusing to appear in sight.

But sooner or later, they would find it, Alan thought. Alex was right about that. The lake isn ’t endless and that type of powerboat is practically unsinkable . You just have to keep pee ring into the ripples set ablaze by the ruthless sun and frequently check the status with others. Alex had thought of everything. Unlike yours truly.

The Rule of Two Steps: Never do anything important without thinking it through at least two steps ahead. Ignored, just like so many other rules during the last few days. Ignored and broken.

Although Alex’s surprising leadership had been getting under his skin, Alan was actually glad to hear that he didn ’t make it to the ranks of rescuers. Sure, it would ’ve been curious to find out why Alex had decided that he was not as fit as Paul, but at the moment that didn ’t matter. Let Ross, Michael, Chris and the others dart like crazy back and fo rth across the lake. No big deal. In the meantime , he ’d keep himself busy in the company of Joan. And despite all the loud rhetoric, no one had cancelled the competition. It ’s not so obvious what would win you more votes—spending a day in the empty lounge with Joan and Kevin or staring like an idiot at the empty shores in the company of one of those managers-turned-rescuers. Well, it is obvious really. Alex was the only one who was going to score any points for this mission. A whole load of points, once the missing couple is discovered and brought back. For everyone else , staying in the lodge was a better deal.

He listened to Paul’s argument with Alex, but his brain was already busy planning the day ahead of him. And then he noticed Joan ’s gaze.

Everyone’s eyes were on Alex, but she was the only one looking at him like that . And that gaze, full of surprised approval and even admiration , gave Alan a soft push somewhere to the back of his head, made him clench his teeth for a second and rocke d him forward. And without thinking, without giving it even a shadow of thought , he heard himself speaking these words: “I ’ll go.”

Now he sat on the stern and kept himself busy trying to decide whether that hasty action was stupid. All in all, it seemed that no particular blunder had been made. On the one hand, he could ’ve been talking now to Joan, and in some way—though who knows how—trying to secure Kevin ’s vote. On the other hand, that would ’ve positioned him as a boy, left at home by the men who had gone out for serious business. But now he ’s one of them, while women, seniors and handicapped had to stay in a safe harbor.

It’s amazing how quickly and successfully Alex managed to frame a simple powerboat trip as a dangerous adventure. When someone with shoulders that wide , with a stone face and a granite jaw barks orders, a spirit of an unavoidable danger appears automatically. Had he decided to pull this off a day ago, everyone would have laughed at it. But now, with two people missing for real, it ’s no longer a laughing matter. Although , if you think about it, there ’s nothing special about this lake , racing with endless squinting at the eye-burning water. Bottom line, it ’s a wash: one option is certainly worth the other. The only irritating thing about that decision is the fact that it hasn ’t been thought through at all. And decisions without sufficient thinking behind them very rarely—if ever—lead to something good.

The engine suddenly produced a strange chocking sound and went quiet. The boat kept moving for a few moments, then stopped, rocking on the gentle waves. A deafening silence hit Alan ’s ears.

“That’s odd, ” ripped the silence Alex ’s voice.

Alan turned to him. Alex was frowning, his eyes examining the indicators.

“Is there a problem?” Alan asked.

“You got that right. The fucking engine ’s just kicked the bucket.”

The diagnosis was somehow unsettling. Not that there was anything wrong with the wording or the epithet that Alex had used to describe the engine. But it felt different —certainly not the flavor of language that he had been using until now.

Alex turned the ignition key abruptly. The engine powered up cheerfully and started rattling vivaciously as if nothing had happened ; however , its jolliness didn ’t last long. Alex ’s hand was still on the key when the capricious mechanism snarled again and went dead.

“Can you believe it?” Alex heavily clapped the steering wheel. “Just what we need now! Enter the rescuers.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what happened to them?” Alan surmised.

To him the accident seemed rather funny. At last it ’s going to knock the stuffing out of Alex a bit, he thought. After all, this boat does have a walkie-talkie on board . So if the wors t comes to the wors t, someone will come. As for the heroic rescue mission, it would simply be delayed for an hour or two. Big deal.

“Who knows . . . who knows, ” Alex had already calmed down. “So much for power in a powerboat. We should have a chat with whoever is in charge of this junk when we get back.”

He studied, with a noticeable vexation, the deserted green slopes surrounding them , and went to the stern, making the boat rock with his every step.

“Let’s take a look, ” he said, getting down to his knees next to Alan. “Would you mind moving a little bit to your left?”

Look at him, Alan thought, now he’s all politeness again. That ’s more like him. Understandably, he ’s way more pissed by that unexpected stop than I am.

Alex got rid of his windbreaker and, having leaned over the stern, began laboring over the silent engine. Looking at the broad back, where the knots of muscles where rolling under the thin fabric of a polo shirt, Alex tried to guess how long it had taken him to pump himself up like that. It must ’ve been a whole load of hours spent at the gym doing some serious weightlifting. But what for? He ’s not a professional athlete. Although who knows who th is man really is. He could be a pro athlete , for all they knew . Perhaps he ’s a manager of a football team and a former pro himself. Or a special forces guy. Or a bodyguard. Managers can be found everywhere and we know nothing about each other.

Whatever he does, he ’s all right. He cares and that’s what really counts. It may be for the best that things went this way. The missing couple, the rescue mission, the random decision . . . Especially if it’s the two of us who find them.

He imagined Stella. Wearily closing her reddened eyes , she was telling Joan: “It was devastating . . . We almost lost hope, but then Alex and Alan came.”

No, it’s better this way: “—but then Alan and Alex came.” Sounds nice. Actually sounds terrific when Joan hears this. And Rob , who hasn ’t shaved for three days extends his hand for a firm handshake and says , “Appreciate it, pal. I knew I could count on you.” And then Joan—“I think I’ve just figured it out, ” Alex said, lifting his head.

Now he was smiling and could easily pass for a happy good-natured dad from a TV ad.

“Some junk got tangled around the screw. It could ’ve been much worse. We ’ll get rid of it in no time and be on our way. It ’ll take a minute or two to ditch it—that piece of rope or whatever it is, is tight as hell.”

“Want some help?” Alan asked.

“Sure. It’ll be faster with four hands.”

Alan moved closer to him and leaned over the water.

“Here,” Alex said. “It ’s on the other side, see? You need to get lower.”

Alan bent lower, trying to take a better look at the screw and the rope that had been stalling it. And then all of a sudden, water jerked towards his face and enveloped his head in a tenacious , cold embrace.

The colorful specs of light began sparkling all around. Shocked and completely disoriented, Alan yelled as hard as he could. Ice-cold water gushed gleefully into his open mouth, filling everything inside him with terrible unbearable cold. He strained his whole body trying to escape from this icy horror, but some rough cruel force was not letting him lift his head, or even move his hands. Then the light around began dimming. He felt th at he was about to black out, when the same force abruptly yanked him out of the water.

The familiar shattering sun hit the eyes. Air poured into his opened mouth , replacing the horrible water. Instinctively, he gasped, filling his tormented lungs to full capacity . The inhale was timely—a moment later the same rude force shoved him back under the water.

This time he didn’t yell. Now he knew what was happening to him. He knew it and yet couldn ’t believe it. It was unthinkable. It could not be happening. And yet, the water torturing his face was saying silently: this is real.

In a moment he was once again forcefully extracted from the water, but left less than an inch away from its blinking surface. It was swaying hungrily next to his eyes, as though reminding him that at any second it could rush forward again.

Then a voice emerged. Some vaguely familiar voice that appeared out of the thick air with life-sucking danger. The voice didn ’t threat. The voice didn ’t console. It simply spoke. Spoke coolly and almost softly. It spoke horrible , impossible words.

This is what you wanted, said the voice. It was your own choice . . . Somebody else was supposed to be in your place and no one asked you to come instead . . . If it hadn ’t been for your loud mouth you could ’ve been sipping a martini at the lounge now . . . But you invited yourself and you left me with no choice . . . You ’re a smart boy and you got it already . . . So just vote for me and keep quiet . . . That ’s it . . . Vote and keep quiet. And don ’t do anything stupid. You know what I mean. Do as I say, and it will be over in two days. Screw up and this will be just the beginning . . . You’re young . . . Don ’t do anything stupid.

Then the voice vanished and the crushing force was gone with it.

Alan rocked back abruptly and poured Alex with a hateful glare. Alex smiled back.

“You’re out of your mind!” said Alan, his voice hoarse and tense.

Speaking was hard—the icy cold was still painfully present in his throat. Cool rivulets of water were dripping down his face.

“On the contrary, ” said Alex, still smiling. “I ’m the only sane one here.”

“You think you can simply pull off somethi ng like this?”

“I already have.”

“You’re a psycho.”

“You can call me whatever makes you feel good. But only here.”

“When we get back I ’ll use another word.”

“Such as?”

“A criminal.”

“Now, that would be a mistake, ” Alex said, this time his voice as cold as the water surrounding the boat. “I thought you got it.”

He rose slowly to his feet, towering his pile of muscles above Alan. His broad chest was covered with fresh dark spots—the only result of Alan ’s hopeless splashing.

“Don’t worry, ” Alan rose to his feet too. “I got it all right.”

He was staring point blank at Alex, not blinking, not taking his eyes off this cold indifferent gaze. All he could think of at this moment was a vision of holding something heavy in his arm. Something really heavy. Like a long heavy wrench. This scumbag would jerk forward and I would swing like that and—Now he knew why Alex had wanted to take Paul along. Paul would ’ve kept quiet after taking this icy head -bath. Paul would ’ve fully cooperated in a heartbeat. But here he ’s got the wrong man. The wrong man to mess with . . . You ’re not going to bully me like this . . . Even if you look like King Kong and behave like Al Capone, still you are not going to get anywhere with me . . . Not with me, not this way . . . After all, you ’re not a criminal. You ’re a manager. A civilized man. A very muscular, very dangerous, very insidious, but still a civilized man. Someone who ’s wary of the law. Doing time is not something you plan on doing, ever. Doing the crime is also not on the agenda. You won ’t break me, you soft-spoken ape. . . No, you won ’t . . .

“You take too many things for granted, ” he said, surprised by the calmness of his own voice.

Alex didn’t utter a wo rd. He clearly wasn ’t ready for this turn of events .

“You thought I ’d be whimpering and begging you to let me go. You thought I ’d do everything you told me to . You were wrong . . . Dead wrong.”

Alex kept quiet.

“You’re so full of yourself that you didn ’t even bother to think of little things. Like say we ran into someone right now, how would you explain my head being so wet? Just my head. It ’ll take me one word to sink you.”

“You were drowning, I saved you, ” Alex replied, finally.

“Sure I was , ” Alan said sarcastically. “Drowning head first.”

“You have a point, ” Alex agreed thoughtfully.

“I have more than one—”

Without stepping forward, Alex abruptly rocked back and forth. The boat staggered traitorously under Alan ’s feet and a moment later the familiar coldness pierced his body with a thousand needles. But this time it wasn ’t just his head. He was overboard and he was underwater.

Before he had a chance to come to the surface, an iron arm seized his hair in a death grip. The second hand grabbed his collar.

“
Now you ’
re drowning and I ’m saving you, ” Alex hissed, pulling him out of the water. “But you never know. I might be too late.”

And with an unstoppable force he shoved Alan back under the water.

Alan kicked and thrashed about, twisting like a worm, but he might ’ve just as well kept still. Then he grabbed the horrid hands with his both arms and tried to get rid of them. It was like trying to bend steel bars. The hands didn ’t move an inch and he stayed underwater.

He’s going to let me go now, he ’s going to let me go, he will let me go, he must let me go . . . the single desperate thought was puls at ing in his head. But the hands, the cruel unyielding , unshakable hands , were not letting go. They held him firm, they kept depriving him of oxygen, they were enjoying the feeling of life escaping his body . . . They turned into stone, into eerie cold stone that was pushing down, pushing, pushing, pushing . . .