Blindside(64)

I had a hard time distinguishing the splashing sounds I was making in the water from the sounds I heard. There was very little light on the lake and I couldn’t see anything past a few feet.

I knew I sounded panicked when I yelled, “Natalie, Natalie,” on an almost unending loop.

Then I saw something just break the surface of the water a few feet in front of me. I kicked hard in the water and closed the distance in a couple of seconds. There was nothing there.

I frantically moved my hands under the water and felt something brush my leg. I ducked underwater and followed its path. My hand closed around something. It was a wrist. Oh, my God, it was Natalie.

I pulled with all my might, kicking my legs to counterbalance the force of pulling Natalie up. It felt like it took forever. It could’ve been wet cement I was pulling her through. Progress was so slow it hurt me physically.

Finally I had her head above water. I waited for that first big gasp to suck in air. It didn’t come. Her face was ice-cold and her eyes were closed. I had to get her to shore to give her CPR. It was her only chance.

I swam hard with Natalie hooked under one arm. I hadn’t done a water rescue since I was a patrolman and dove in for a kid who had fallen into the East River. When I brought him back to the seawall, there were a dozen people who helped us out of the water. That wasn’t going to happen tonight.





CHAPTER 91


WE THRASHED IN the water as Natalie drifted in and out of consciousness. She’d wake up and panic, elbowing me and kicking wildly. Then she’d pass out and be deadweight. It was exhausting. Murky water splashed into my mouth, and I kept swallowing it.

My legs and lungs started to burn as I swam. It took me a minute to realize that in the darkness, I hadn’t gone in the right direction. I had been swimming parallel to the shore. Wasting precious energy wasn’t something I could afford to do right now.

Finally I got my bearings. A tiny red light flashed in the distance and gave me a focal point. I kept heading toward the tiny light until my feet brushed the sandy bottom of the lake. I lifted Natalie out of the water as I trudged toward shore.

It took longer than I had expected, but I pulled Natalie onto the shore and wasted no more time. I stripped off the wool sweater that had weighed her down. I fell right into the training I’d received over and over again from the NYPD. I shook her to make sure she wasn’t responding. I checked her pulse, then cleared her mouth with my finger. There was nothing in her mouth, and she gave no reaction.

Water rescues are no fun and dangerous. But CPR in a situation like this was positively terrifying. I pinched her nose with two fingers. Since she was ice-cold, I wondered if some of her problems were related to hypothermia.

I sealed my lips over hers and started my first rescue breath. It was longer and deeper than I intended.

As I raised my head slightly to take in more air, I felt Natalie move. At least I think I did.

Just as I was about to give another serious rescue breath, she coughed. Gurgled is more accurate. I’d seen it a dozen times. I knew just what to do: jump out of the way.

She sat up quickly and turned to one side. Water cascaded out of her mouth as she coughed and vomited. She cleared her throat several times and coughed up more water. It felt like she’d been in the lake for hours, but maybe it’d been only minutes.

As long as she was coughing, she was breathing. That was a win. I sat by her and put my hand on her shoulder.

After almost a full minute, she turned and looked at me. Then she threw her arms around my neck and gave me a hug.

When I wrapped my arms around her and patted her back, she started to sob. At first, I thought it was a reaction to the drowning. Then she said, “How’d I end up here? With men trying to kill me. Almost getting you killed.” She just started crying again.

I got it. I really did. I had experienced this with my own daughters. Maybe not in so dramatic a fashion, but I understood the release.

Then I remembered there was another killer out there. I let go of Natalie and stood up to scan the area. I could see the approach to the park because of the lights out on the street nearby. Just the lake and its banks were completely dark.

Then I saw him. He was standing on a hill not far from the street. Ollie looked a little like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, the way he moved. He had apparently jumped into the lake at some point. His wet shirt, plastered to his wide chest, showed that he wasn’t just a big lump of fat.

He turned and faced me. It was pretty far for a pistol shot. I didn’t know what I was going to do if he started shambling back toward us with that stiff-legged gait both the wet pants and the earlier car crash had given him.

But he stayed right where he was. Then he did something that surprised me. Ollie gave me a casual salute.

He called down to me in English, “You’re both too much trouble. As a professional, I have to know when to cut my losses. Good luck.” He turned quickly and disappeared across the street.

Then I heard faint sirens. That’s what had scared him off.

I helped Natalie over to where Christoph was stuck in the mud.

He screamed, “Dig me out of this. You’re just trying to torture me. Get me out right now.”

I figured it was a job for a local fire-rescue team.

Natalie and Christoph both looked like they’d just survived the worst day of their lives.

I hoped this really was the worst day Natalie ever had. I knew Christoph was going to have many that would be worse.