Radclyffe - When Dreams Tremble

“Yes.”

“Is that what you want, though?” Leslie asked, Þ nding it hard to believe that

Dev would be happy working inside in a lab all the time.

“I wouldn’t take it unless they let me make my own schedule, including time

away for Þ eldwork.” Dev met Leslie’s gaze. “I’d be a lot closer to you, then,

most of the time.”

“But is it what you want?”

“What I want, Leslie, is you.”

“What about…what I do?” Leslie asked softly. “You must hate it.”

Dev shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’ve spent enough time as an expert witness to

know that the environmental protection laws aren’t perfect. On some level, I

understand what bothers you about them. And why you defend people accused

of breaking them.” She gazed out at the lake, thinking about the schools of Þ sh

that had been driven out by pollution and misuse of the waterways. “But they’re

the best we have, so I have to work with them. I have to do what I can while

there’s still time.”

“And you don’t think that would eventually come between—”

“Greetings!” Natalie called, striding across the lawn toward them.

She was in uniform, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tucked

beneath a green cap with the forest service emblem on the front. “Hi, Leslie.

Dev said you were coming up, but I thought it was tonight.”

“I came up a day early, as it happens.”

Natalie’s eyes ß ickered to Dev, and Leslie saw her expression change to one

of speculation. “Really. So how are you doing?”

“Fine. Great, actually,” Leslie said, leaning back slightly to look up as Natalie

stopped beside her. “How about you?”

Natalie squatted down with a shake of her head. “Ask me at the end of this

crazy weekend. It’s the last big rush until leaf season.

Everybody’s trying to catch the last little bit of summer.”

“I feel the same way, even if the lake is already too cold to swim.”

Leslie realized she wasn’t jealous, even though Natalie had probably expected

to Þ nd Dev alone. Dev was by her side, had awakened in her bed, had called

her name in the night. “I hope things stay quiet for you.”

“They might,” Natalie said with a sigh, her eyes narrowing as she stared down to

the water. “If people would stop doing idiotic things like that.”

Leslie followed her gaze. A tour boat, one of the broad, ß at-bottomed

sightseeing craft Þ lled with rows of deck chairs for people to sit in while the

boat made a slow circuit along the shoreline, lumbered into view. It was packed

with people, standing and sitting. More people than Leslie could ever remember

seeing in one of those boats.

“I can’t imagine that’s very much fun,” Leslie said, “being crammed together like

sard—oh my God!”

“Jesus Christ!” Dev shouted, jumping up.

The boat tilted to one side and, in a fraction of a second, capsized.

Leslie, Dev, and Natalie raced toward the water as the panicked shouts of the

people who had been thrown into the lake seventy feet from shore Þ lled the air.

“We need rescue boats in Bolton Landing by the Lakeview,”

Natalie shouted into her radio. “And paramedics. We’ve got people in the

water. At least two dozen.”

While Natalie was organizing the rescue, Leslie and Dev kicked off their shoes

and dove into the lake. Some people were already straggling to shore but others

were clearly in trouble, ß ailing in the water and screaming. Leslie, her strokes

hard and clean, swam past the people who were close enough to make it to

safety on their own. She saw at least three people go under and not come up

again. Dev was close by, slightly behind her. Dev had never been as fast as

Leslie in the water.

Leslie reached the Þ rst ß oundering victim in less than a minute.

“Stop struggling and let me help you,” she shouted, treading water a few feet

away to avoid being struck by the man’s windmilling arms.

“I can’t swim,” he cried hoarsely, his eyes wild with panic. “My wife. My wife. I

can’t Þ nd my wife.”

“I’ll tow you to shore,” Leslie called, cautiously approaching.

“Let me grab your shirt. Don’t hit me.”

Her words seemed to penetrate his panic, because he relaxed enough for her to

get her arm over his shoulder from behind and under his armpit. “Just relax and

kick your feet. I’ll do the rest of the work.”

“My wife,” he gasped. “Please Þ nd my wife.”

When Leslie got him close enough to shore that he could stand on the bottom,

she let him go. Natalie and her mother and some of the guests were helping

people from the water. Leslie didn’t stop, but turned and immediately swam

back to the overturned boat. The white-painted bottom glinted unnaturally in the

sunlight. She dove, powering down until she could peer around the side into

what had been the open passenger compartment. She’d hoped that air, and

possibly survivors, had been trapped beneath. There was nothing under the boat

but a body ß oating lazily to and fro. Swallowing back her horriÞ ed gasp, she

kicked

away and pumped toward the surface, gulping air when she broke free.

Then she grabbed the closest victim and started back toward shore.

“The boat’s here,” Natalie shouted, in water up to her waist, as Leslie wearily

guided an elderly woman into Natalie’s outstretched arms.

“How many…how many more can you see,” Leslie gasped, her arms and legs

leaden. She’d lost track of the passage of time or how many trips she’d made

back out to the slowly sinking boat.

“Six or seven,” Natalie said. “You’re too tired, Leslie. Stay ashore.”

But Leslie could still hear screaming. Ignoring Natalie, she turned and plunged

back into the water. She thought she saw Dev dragging an unconscious man

toward shore, but she wasn’t sure. On her next trip back, she collapsed to her

knees in the shallow water, struggling for breath.

“Leslie,” her mother said urgently, “don’t go back out. You’re ready to

collapse.”

“Where’s…Dev,” Leslie rasped. “Is she…in?”

Eileen glanced anxiously around. The grass abutting the shoreline was covered

with victims, some unconscious, others moaning or crying.

The wail of sirens added to the chaos as paramedics raced down from the

parking lot. “I don’t see her. She must be here somewhere.”

A surge of adrenaline spurred Leslie upright, and, heart pounding, she scanned

the shore. Natalie was directing the paramedics toward the most seriously

injured. A few guests from the lodge were handing out blankets, and her father

was transporting the less injured up the hill in his cart. But she didn’t see Dev.

She spun toward the lake. Twenty yards offshore she saw Dev laboring slowly

with another struggling victim in tow. As she watched, the woman ß ailed wildly

and both she and Dev went under the surface. Leslie dove back into the icy

water.

Leslie pulled underwater, stroke after stroke. She was faster underwater, and

she didn’t need to see. She knew these waters, this shoreline, this lake like she

knew her own reß ection in the mirror. She knew exactly where Dev was.

Lungs screaming, she stayed under until she reached Dev’s location. When she

burst through the surface, she circled frantically. “Dev! Dev!”

The rescue boat was only yards away and Leslie thought she recognized the

woman they pulled aboard. The one Dev had been towing. Dev wasn’t there.