Will McIntosh - Love Minus Eighty

A quick query told Rob it was possible to drop up to one hundred fifty-eight feet without sustaining serious injury, if you landed just right—feetfirst, with your head tilted back to minimize the likelihood of your neck breaking on impact. Then again, a drop of forty feet could kill you if you hit the water wrong. If you drifted too far forward, your ribs would puncture your aorta on impact; too far back and your spine was snapped.

“Tell me how to find you.”

“No. I can’t do that.”

Rob huffed, frustrated. They were wasting time. “Winter, I’m glad Red caught us. I don’t want to have a few hours with you once or twice a week, hiding in my apartment. I want to be with you all the time. The only reason I didn’t ask you to run away with me before this was because it wasn’t fair. You’d be taking most of the risk. Now that’s not an issue. So let’s go, let’s run away while we still can.”

After a long pause, a red light appeared on the horizon, to the left of the Statue of Liberty. “I’m two point six miles from you, in the upper bay.” Another pause. “It should take an amateur rower an hour and forty-four minutes.”

“I’m guessing that estimate is for people not rowing for their lives,” Rob said. The nose of the little skiff lifted out of the water on each pull. If he still had the soft hands of a musician, he probably would be looking at savage blisters after this trip. Hopefully the long hours at the reclamation center would pay off, not only in calluses but in endurance.

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“In my room. I’m not locked in.” She shrugged. “Where would I run?”

Rob was terrified, but also excited. His belly felt like he was in an elevator, falling swiftly. They had no choice now—they were going to be together, unless they were caught. It would be hard, but they’d be together. That was all he wanted.

“Do me a favor?” Rob said. “Connect me with my dad.” He didn’t want to take his hands off the oars even for an instant.

As he rowed past the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, Rob said good-bye to his father. Lorne told him he was doing the right thing. Rob promised to get word to him when they were safe, somehow. He didn’t even know where they were going. It would be safest to get out of the country, but they had no way to pay for transport. Their accounts would be frozen as soon as Winter was discovered missing.

Rob also said good-bye to Veronika, and left it at that. The rest of his friends would have to hear it from Lorne or Veronika.

After an hour of rowing, the nose of the boat was no longer lifting out of the water. His fingers were raw. The oars rubbed in places that lifting and moving and plucking things did not. Rob had no idea how long they had before the authorities came for Winter. He couldn’t help imagining there was a copter in the air at this very moment, on its way to get her. He glanced over his shoulder. The estate island was glowing red, maybe half a mile away. Rob clung to the oars and tried to push with his legs to make up for the stiff, exhausted state of his arms.

Tiny waves lapped the sides of the boat, tilting it this way and that as Rob stared up at Redmond’s estate. Now that he saw how high a hundred and eighteen feet was, it seemed far, far too high.

Winter’s screen, which had accompanied him during the entire trip, was tilted up to take in the height as well.

“I don’t know about this,” Rob said.

“No, me neither.”

They stared up in silence. Rob looked each of the pillars up and down carefully, hoping Winter had missed some important detail. There were no details to miss; they were nothing but slick gray-carbon fiber. Likely Winter had opened a screen and examined each one up close.

“I’m coming,” Winter said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m out of my room.”

Rob’s heart began to pump faster. She was really going to do it. When she got to the edge, would she change her mind? Possibly. He couldn’t imagine climbing over the low fence that surrounded the estate and jumping from that height.

“I’m in the elevator. Oh, crap.” Her screen disappeared.

“What is it? Winter?” No reply. Rob was tempted to open a screen up there to find out what had happened, but that could only make things worse. So he waited, his mouth dry, his heart hammering, wondering what he would do if he didn’t hear from her again. What could he do? Row back to shore.

Winter’s screen reappeared. “I’m here. I bumped into Lloyd’s wife, Kidra. I told her I was going to see Red, to beg him to reconsider. I’m outside. There’s no one in sight.”

Rob thought he caught a glimpse of movement above.

“I can see you,” Winter said. “Okay. I can do this.” Feeling like his heart was going to explode, Rob watched her climb over the fence, then turn and face the water. “Oh, God, I don’t know.”

“Keep your head back, hands at your sides.”

“I’m so scared. I don’t know if I can do this.”

Maybe it would be best to convince her to go back inside and wait for the authorities. Better she live in a debt camp than drown. She was right there, though. So close. In a few seconds she could be in the boat.

“I’m going to count to three,” he said. “On three, you jump. Don’t think, just jump. On three. One. Two—”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Three.”

She jumped.

Suddenly she was falling, her clothes billowing, her red hair like the tail of a comet. Her hands were pinned to her sides, her feet together, head back. Rob had a flash of that other bridesicle, falling in ten thousand places at once. But she hadn’t been real—no bones that could break, no aorta to puncture.

Winter hit the water. Without waiting for her to surface, Rob rowed frantically toward the spot where she’d hit, leaving her still-open screen behind after catching one quick glimpse of her—her face barely visible in the dark water, obscured by bubbles, eyes wide.

When he reached the spot, she wasn’t there. He stood up in the boat, looked all around.

She wasn’t there.

“ Winter? Winter? ” The boat rocked dangerously as he bent over and peered into the dark water, trying to catch a glimpse of her, wondering if he should dive in, swim down, and try to feel around for her.

Desperate, he looked at her screen, still hovering a hundred feet away, hoping to get some clue as to where she was. Instead he caught a glimpse of movement in the water, fifty feet beyond the screen, almost in the shadow of the estate. It was Winter, thrashing in slow motion, her face disappearing as each swell passed over her.

“Winter,” he shouted. He dove in, the cold water a shock that left him spluttering as he swam, calling her name, urging her to hang on.

She was under water when he reached her, her face a blur receding into darkness. Rob dove, grasped her by the shoulder, and drew her up until they broke the surface together.

Her eyes were open; Rob didn’t think she was breathing, but he wasn’t sure. Treading water, he pulled her face to his, held her nose and blew into her mouth.

Nothing. He tried again. It didn’t feel like the air was going in. He had to get her into the boat.

He swam on his side, doing his best to hold Winter’s head above water. The boat was drifting away from them. It had been a hundred feet away when he left it, now it was three times that. He redoubled his effort, tried to flatten out so he could kick on the surface of the water, but he couldn’t manage it while holding Winter.

Winter vomited water into his face.

“That’s it, love. That’s it,” Rob said. He turned her so she was facedown, tried to thump her back. She vomited again. “That’s right. Get it all out.”