Krymzyn (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 1) (17 page)

Pounding waves flip me, sucking me into the depths until I lose all sense of direction. Completely disoriented, I’m deep under the rapids. Spinning in the water, I search through the murky silver-blue until I spot streaks of red. I stroke with fury in my arms, kick with frenzy in my legs, straight towards Sash.

Rushing water sweeps us down the river with Sash thirty feet in front of me. Her listless body is caught in a relentless current deep under the surface. I close the distance between us. Twenty feet. Ten feet. Five feet. I surge.

A tornado of bubbles whirls around us. Long, slender fingers with webs up to the middle of the knuckles snatch Sash by the hair. Like entering an underwater vacuum, a stagnant pool inside the deluge of water, we float perfectly still.

I’m shocked by the woman’s face in front of me, her snow-white skin crafted in timeless, stunning beauty. Bleach-blond hair floats around a smooth, thin face while bubbles of air rise from sparkling golden lips. Her emerald green eyes pierce through the dark, silvery blue. I reach out and grab Sash by the arm, but the woman wrenches her body away from me.

As the woman studies my face, one of her hands keeps a firm grip on Sash’s hair and the other hand stays concealed behind her back. A noose of black rope cuts into the skin of her long, narrow neck. I look down her nude body to sleek legs, but in place of feet, fins grow straight down from her shins. Long and broad at the tips, they struggle to tread water against rope tightly binding her calves.

Through the static pocket of water, the woman stares at me with anger, pain, and distrust. When she writhes, straining to move the arm behind her back, I arch my neck to see rope cinched around her wrist. The hand is stretched to the center of her shoulder blades and secured to the noose around her throat.

I extend my hand out towards the knot, but she flinches away and glares at me. Limp in the creature’s hand, Sash floats with her eyes closed and no air bubbles leaving her nose or mouth. I focus again on the woman’s emerald eyes. Using my hands, I mime untying a rope from my neck.

She slowly turns to the side, her eyes alertly focused on my hands while I reach to the noose. I quickly loosen the knot, fighting to keep the air inside my lungs. Carefully, I pull the rope from around her neck, untie her wrist, and free her hand. Pushing against her hips, I lower myself to her legs and release them from the rope.

As I float back up in front of the woman’s face, her expression changes from suspicion to curiosity. After slowly lifting a hand to my cheek, she tilts her head to the side and, with one finger, touches the corner of my eye.

She suddenly shoves Sash to me. I grab Sash by her shirt and pull her body close to mine. Both arms of the woman wrap around our waists. Without warning, she powerfully kicks her feet, torpedoing us up through the turbulent rapids.

We’re launched through the river’s surface and into the air. I gasp for a breath before a wave slams us against a rock. With one hand, I cling to an edge, Sash still held tightly in my other arm. With all my might, I throw Sash up to the face of the slab, safely out of the rapids. The blond woman is nowhere to be seen.

Clawing my way up the granite, I clutch Sash by the shirt and drag her to the top of the rock. Waves splash high off the edges of the black stone while rain continues to pour. As I lower my cheek to her face, I dig deep in my mind for memories of the CPR classes I took with my family. I don’t feel any breath against my skin from her nose or mouth. When I press my ear to her chest, I don’t hear a heartbeat.

I pull her mouth open with my fingers but don’t see any blockage. Trying to remain methodical and calm, I pinch her nostrils, inhale deeply, and lower my lips over hers. My breath steadily pours into her lungs. I lift my face away, suck in more air, and exhale again into her mouth. Two breaths, I remember.

Crossing my hands, I center my palms on her chest and sharply pump thirty times. When I listen for a heartbeat, her body is silent. I feed two more breaths inside her before thrusting my hands against her chest again and again.

“Breathe, Sash!” I shout.

There’s not a hint of breath or heartbeat when I finish the compressions, so I frantically repeat the steps one more time. Silver drops fall from the sky and splatter on the lifeless face in front of me. I listen to her chest, but the only sound is rage from the rapids around us. I need to shock her heart, use a defibrillator, but there’s nothing like that in Krymzyn.

It can’t return you from death, but as long your brain is functioning, sap will revive you,
I hear inside my head.

Sap, pure energy, should shock her heart. Her brain is still alive and can live for thirty minutes with CPR. Blood circulates through the veins during compressions and will carry the sap into her heart. I know my flask is empty, so I rip hers from her belt, open it, but find that it’s dry inside.

You have sap in your blood now,
Tork had said.
As Eval told you,
they sometimes try to drink our blood for the sap inside.

An unconscious person can’t swallow, and I doubt her digestive system is functioning anyway. I know that some drugs on Earth will absorb directly into the blood from under the tongue or around the gums. I reach to the edge of the rock and slide my fingers over it, but it’s smooth from countless waves crashing over its sides.

I lean over Sash. First closing my eyes, I hold my wrist to my mouth, clamp my teeth as hard as I can, and tear a small chunk of skin away. I dab my fingertips into the crimson flow and reach them inside her mouth. Spreading my blood under her tongue and around her gums, I hope—pray—that her veins will absorb it.

I pinch her nostrils and fill her lungs with air. My shoulders strain while I desperately pump with my hands.

“You have to come back!” I scream.

My count reaches thirty. No breath. No heartbeat. No sign of life.

I soak my fingertips in blood again. While coating the inside of her mouth, I scratch into her veins so I’m certain my blood mixes with hers. I quickly give her two more breaths, tenderly grasp her head in my hands, and slide my lips from her mouth to her ear.

“Sash,” I whisper, tears burning my eyes, “please live.”

Beads of rain race down the ridges in my arms as I flex them against her body. I shout the count out loud, trying to deafen the despair sweltering inside my mind. The volume of my voice increases with each passing number until I shriek twenty-eight. Her body convulses under my hands, and water spouts from her mouth. When I hear gurgling in her throat, I roll her on her side. She finally gasps for air.

Sash coughs several times, spitting out more water, and I fall to the rock beside her. Amber is revealed as her eyelids open, and she gulps another breath.

“Breathe slow and deep,” I say.

She fights to suck in air, exhales, and then breathes again. I place my hand on her chest to feel the beat of her heart, steady and strong. I sit up and gently raise her, supporting her in my arms.

“Can you breathe?” I ask.

She nods and coughs again, but her breathing gradually returns to normal. I stand and look towards the bridge. Tork and the others crouch at the edge, watching us from two hundred yards away. I cup my hands around my mouth.

“Get a pillow and rope!” I yell. “Use the pillow to guide the rope down the river to us!”

Larn sprints across the bridge until beams disappear through the gate. I sit on the rock beside Sash, rain still falling from above, and slip my arm around her shoulder. She stares at the rock below our feet.

My body starts to tremble when the image of her dead face flashes in front of my eyes. I gently rest my lips against her forehead.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I whisper.

She leans back, her eyes red and filled with tears, gazing straight into my eyes. “Not now,” she says. “Not ever.”

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“I’m better,” she replies quietly. “You saved my life.”

“I think I might have owed you at least one.”

She shakes her head. “You never owe me anything.”

“I owe you everything,” I say. “No matter what, Sash, you’ve given me a life I never knew I could have.”

Her eyes reach deep into mine. “How did you bring me back?”

“I did something called
CPR
. I blew air into your lungs and pumped your heart to make the blood circulate. I had to put my blood in your mouth to get sap into your veins.”

“Now I know what I saw,” she says to herself. “My Vision of the Future came to pass.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“When we sat on the Tall Hill, I told you that you were in my Vision of the Future. My Vision was my body on this rock, dead, with you leaning over me.”

I’m stunned by her words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know if it would happen while you’re here now,” she replies. “It could have been on your next visit. I only knew it would happen before your Ritual of Purpose. In my Vision, there was no color of purpose in your hair.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me.”

“The last time you were here, you said you could take something to make your visits stop. If I’d told you I would die when you’re here, you never would have returned to Krymzyn. Even if it meant you had to die in your world, you wouldn’t have come back so that I could live.”

I listen to her answer again in my mind. “You’re right,” I say. “I would’ve done whatever I had to so I wouldn’t come back if I thought it would protect you, even if they can’t heal me in my world. You really know me, don’t you?”

“I do,” she says softly, “just as you know me.”

Her logic for never telling me sinks in as I look into her eyes. “You were going to let yourself die without saying anything so I could stay in my world if they could heal me, but come back here to live if I thought I would die on Earth?”

“That was my hope. I wanted you to have the choice.”

“That’s what you meant on the Mount when you said to make decisions that are best for my life?”

“Yes,” she replies. “I just wanted you to have a chance for life no matter what happened to me.”

Her explanation is the exact selflessness I would expect from her. Sash thought she would die in this river but still fought on top of the bridge so that others could get to safety. The idea of running to save herself would never enter her mind, even when believing that the end of her life was moments away.

I lean my forehead against hers. “Now that this is behind us, do you think we can be together?”

“That’s what I want,” Sash replies, finally smiling, “and I believe we will.”

We gently kiss, holding each other in our arms. The churning inside the billows slows, the rain stops falling, and the first rays of scarlet cut through the edges of the clouds. From the corner of my eye, I see bright light on the bridge and turn as Larn stops on top of the arch.

After tying it securely to the end of a rope, Tork throws the pillow into the river. Waves toss the pillow high in the air before it floats back to the water. They slowly feed more rope and steer the pillow to the edge of the rock. As I guessed it might be, when I pull the pillow from the water, it’s perfectly dry. I untie it from the end of the rope and kneel in front of Sash.

She helps me wrap the rope behind her back and under her arms. I tie a knot in front of her chest, checking it several times to make sure it’s secure. Enough spare rope still dangles from the knot for me to attach the pillow in front of her.

“Hold the rope tightly with both hands,” I say, looking into her eyes, “and use the pillow to keep your head above water. Kick your feet to stay upright. If you see a wave about to crash over you or feel yourself going under, take a huge breath and hold it in.”

Sash nods her understanding.

“Are you ready to do this, or do you need more rest?” I ask.

“I’m ready,” she says.

I help Sash to her feet, face the bridge, and make a megaphone around my mouth with my hands. “Pull fast when she’s in the water!” I scream.

Tork waves a hand over his head, acknowledging that he heard me.

I look at Sash again. “Hold your breath when I tell you. I’ll throw you as far as I can out into the water so you’re clear of the rock. You won’t have any problem doing this.”

“Chase,” she replies. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say. “Always. Now let’s get us both to safety.” I grip her waist with both hands and quickly kiss her lips. “Take a big breath.”

After she inhales, I fling her as far as I can into the rapids at the side of the rock. A wave immediately crashes over her. I glance at the bridge to see Tork, Larn, and a Watcher furiously pulling the rope. My eyes follow the black line from the bridge back to the rapids, finding where it disappears under the water. Sash surfaces, kicking her way up and over a wave, then gulps a new breath. Another wave surges over her, but she comes back up behind it, still clutching the rope in her hands.

Time doesn’t seem to move as they drag her through the rapids. I finally see her body emerge from the water under the bridge. Glittering scarlet swings in the air as they pull her up to the edge. Tork grasps her arm, lifts her onto the bridge, and rests her on the steel surface. When I see Sash cough a few times, I know she’s conscious and breathing. Tork hands her his flask and she drinks from it, finally waving to me to let me know she’s safe.