Starfall (Starflight #2)(60)
After some awkward feeling around, the four of them were able to support the man’s head. A loud crack from below reminded Kane that every yard the dome sank was another yard they’d have to swim before reaching the surface.
“We have to hurry,” he said. “We’re going down fast.”
“Which way?” Cassia asked. “I’m all turned around.”
Doran swore. “Me too. We need a—” He cut off and went quiet. The next thing Kane knew, brightness appeared from Doran’s palm. He’d switched on his data tablet. “Not sure how much battery is left,” he said, rotating the screen until its glow revealed a half-submerged tram sign, “so we’d better move.”
They began a clumsy, unsynchronized swim until Cassia directed their movements by calling “Stroke” in two-second intervals. Once they found a rhythm, it didn’t take long to reach the tram station, where the corridor ended in a T. Doran shone the tablet at each tunnel, revealing nothing but watery darkness. The tram’s connective tubing had cracked in both directions, but which tunnel was shorter: the left or the right?
“Be back soon,” Doran told them, then clamped his teeth around the tablet and disappeared beneath the water.
Darkness enveloped them once more, intensifying the sounds of the dome breaking and shifting. It was torture staying in one place, and even harder resisting the urge to call for help on the com-link. Kane reminded himself that if Necktie Fleece knew they were alive, he’d come back to finish the job.
A pinprick of light from beneath the water announced Doran’s arrival. He heaved a breath that dislodged his tablet and then scrambled to catch the device. Holding the screen toward the left tunnel, he said, “It’s our best bet. The break’s not too far, but there’s no more air after this.”
Anxious to move, Kane hauled the guard toward the left tunnel, savoring the last pocket of air until his forehead bumped the ceiling. He readjusted his grip on the man’s collar. “Everyone, grab a sleeve.”
The group drew a collective breath and dipped underwater. Kane used his boots to kick off the ceiling, propelling them forward into another synchronized swim. The light from Doran’s tablet danced with each breaststroke, but it was enough to keep them on a straight path as they followed the tram tracks.
Doran was right—a break in the tube appeared. As Kane swam into open water, he glanced up where the hue transformed from deep indigo to vivid teal, finally leading to pale blue at the very top. His elation warred with panic. The goal was within view, but still so far away. As he clawed toward the sunbeams high above him, he created a mental game of it: everything would be fine if he could just touch the light.
The drag behind him increased suddenly, and he glanced down to find Cassia’s hand had slipped from the guard’s sleeve. She grabbed on to it again, only to slip once more. Kane tried to catch her eye, to tell her to let go, but she dodged his gaze. When his vision began to blur, he knew he was in trouble. He felt a tug at his shoulder and glanced at Doran, who pointed at the surface. Kane faced up and squinted at the captain swimming toward them with a metallic rope in one hand.
Through the haze of dizziness, Kane recognized the rope as the shuttle’s tow cable. If one of the crew could reach that cable, it would pull them all to the surface. But he was only seconds from blacking out. They needed to form a longer chain and send one of them to the top.
Continuing to kick upward, Kane pried Doran’s fingers from the guard’s shirt and pointed from the tow cable to Solara’s arm. Doran caught on quickly, and they created a human link with the guard at the bottom. Kane watched as Doran and Renny reached out to each other, and just as dark spots danced in his eyes, he saw their hands link.
At once, the drag eliminated, and then they were launching up through the water so fast he nearly lost his grip on the lifeline. But he held tight, and an instant later, his face met the blessed assault of two suns.
Kane sucked in a ragged lungful of oxygen before releasing Solara and dropping back into the water, where he bobbed to the surface again. Cassia appeared beside him, and while she caught her breath, he pulled the guard’s head into the light. The man began to stir, eyes closed as he choked on the water he’d inhaled. Kane rotated the guard to the side and hammered his back, one fierce pound after another.
The crew swam close to lend a hand, each supporting the man’s torso as he coughed and sputtered awake. No sooner had he opened his eyes than his chest lurched and he vomited all over the lot of them. For a moment, there was only stunned silence. Then peals of laughter broke out, chortles that were weak from exhaustion but filled with the purest kind of joy—that of being alive.
From her bench seat inside the hyperbaric pressure chamber, Cassia held an oxygen mask over her face and peeked at Kane sitting on the opposite bench. He pretended to sleep with his head tilted back, arms folded, and legs crossed at the ankles, but his shallow breathing gave him away.
She wished they could talk. She hadn’t thought anything could hurt worse than Kane’s words from last night, but to watch him nearly die had shaken her to the core. Her heart was bursting with all the things she needed to say to him. But that wasn’t a conversation to have in front of the crew, and at the moment Solara sat beside them trying to comfort Doran, who hated tight spaces and seemed to be fighting a panic attack with both eyes clenched shut.