Page 90 of Love Always

“Jesus fucking Christ look at him go,” says Bryce.

He expertly maneuvers the Lexus past the Ford, and down the ramp. I’m not sure that pier was meant to hold the weight of a car. Still, the guy runs. There’s a boat at the end, a ferry, with people boarding. Bryce slams on the emergency gear and then we are out of the car. I can’t run at all and watch, frustrated as Cruz tears onto the ferry shoving people left and right. People scream. Bryce and Nic leap aboard trying to find him.

I make it to the end in time to look up and see him on the top deck. Just as another boat passes, a small dinghy, Cruz jumps into the water.

I don’t even think about it. I launch myself into the water. It’s freezing cold, but I’ve worked in worse. I don’t have goggles or scuba gear but the captain of the ferry cut the motor which helps. I surface, treading water, my left leg making me list slightly. I try to acclimate to remember this was what I did, this was who I was, water was my environment.

I situate quickly and find the target.

Cruz is nearly to the dinghy one hand up, ready to grab the hull when he makes contact. I’m about twenty feet away. It takes me seven seconds to close the gap, stroking harder with my right arm to keep me straight and hit the target. I grab him from behind just as he gets his second hand on the hull.

Pulling him off the boat is impossible. He has leverage. I don’t. Just as I reach to grab a pinkie to break, the guy in the bow who has a shocked look on his face, swings at us both.

Sirens are loud. Blue and red lights dance on the dinghy’s hull. The paddle hits me on the side of the head and Cruz lets go, forcing us both down. We struggle underwater. Though my ear rings from the blow, I’m not disoriented. All that training is coming back and he doesn’t have a chance. Quickly flipping him around, I do a leg lock and an arm twist and rely on his survival instincts to kick us to the surface.

That’s when I realize, at some point, I’ve lost my prosthetic.

He’s got one free hand left though and every time I try to come up and take a breath, he pushes my head down.

Then, once, twice, three, times he hits nubby and the nerve endings there, bunched and bundled, swollen, fire off in agony, but I don’t let go. I’ve been under two minutes probably by now, I got another thirty seconds left if I’m struggling.

Bryce’s voice is muted above the surface and then another person plunges in. But it’s not Bryce. It’s Nic. Nic grabs Cruz’s hands, struggles for a second and then all three of us break the surface gasping. Police evacuate the ferry. Life jackets bob in the water along with life rings. When Cruz sees guns trained on him he stops fighting.

It’s over.

One of the crew from the ferry hands off a metal ladder to Carlson’s team and this is lowered over the end of the pier and secured. Four uniforms and Carlson create a gauntlet at the top as we get Cruz to the bottom and he climbs up. Even from here, I can watch Carlson put the cuffs on.

Nic is right behind me.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. “Your head.”

The harbormaster bellows to the poor guy in the dinghy to tie up and come in. He’s probably scared shitless.

Then Bryce is standing at the top of the ladder. “You two need a hand?” he calls down.

I’m absolutely freezing cold. Hypothermia can set in within seven minutes in this weather and it’s been about ten. Nic still treads water behind me and his lips are bright blue.

“You need to get out,” I say spitting a little water. “Why don’t you go next. I’m going to have to swim.”

“What?” says Nic his teeth starting to chatter. The guy is too lean for this. He’s going to turn into an ice cube.

“Just go,” I say. “I’ll meet you on shore. I lost my leg.”

“He wants to swim it,” yells Nic from below. Both Carlson and the Harbormaster shake their heads.

“Get going,” says Nic. “I’m not leaving until you go up that ladder.”

With everyone watching from the pier, the ferry, the shore, the Harbormaster drops a neon yellow sling on a line. Slipping it on, I grab the ladder and start hauling myself up. It isn’t easy. The metal is freezing. Every time I’d reach a step with my right leg, I’d grab the rungs above me and pull up enough to take another step. Knowing Nic is right behind me, I go as fast as I can.

As I near the top, hands reach over, hauling me the last few feet and then I’m standing next to Bryce, gasping, shaking, reaching around to Nic who is so blue his hands look purple. Someone throws blankets to us.

And then, everyone claps. First one, then two, then a few, then everyone for a minute or two. The few people left on the ferry, the bystanders on the pier, the cops. Carlson gives me a bear hug.

I’m not even sure they noticed if I had a leg or not. For the first time in my life, in public, it doesn’t matter.

Chapter Nineteen

Laurel