59. Kristina

59

KRISTINA

I was falling, head first, into pitch blackness. I could feel the air rushing past me, faster and faster, the only evidence that I was speeding up—

And then, as my body spun, I glimpsed the wall of the dam, concrete blocks whizzing by just inches from my face, and I wished for the blackness again. If I clipped it, if I even brushed it with a hand or foot and went cartwheeling into it—

I tightened my arms around Garrett... but he was a dead weight against my body. I was too close to see his face and I didn’t dare loosen my grip or we might be torn apart. And I wasn’t brave enough to get through this on my own.

Clouds rose up to meet us: I could hardly see them in the dark, but I could feel them. First just a damp in the air, then a mist and then stinging spray as hard as pebbles. The roar of the water surrounded us, growing until it was deafening. My throat ached and my chest hurt: I knew I was screaming but I couldn’t hear it .

And then we were down to where the water flowed out of the dam. I saw the geyser of water below us, as wide as a bus. If we touched that, its force would grab us and slam us down deep beneath the surface. I screwed my eyes shut—

We flashed past it, missing it by less than a foot. And then the surface of the river was rushing up to meet us—

We hit and the whole front of my body flared in pain: it felt like hitting concrete. Then, as we sunk, the cold hit me: the water had come down from the mountains and even in summer, it was freezing.

We went deeper and when we slowed to a stop it was utterly black. I knew we had to swim to the surface, but I couldn’t tell which way was up and—

Oh God. Panic gripped me: Garrett wasn’t swimming. He wasn’t even moving. He was just sinking, dragging me down towards the bottom.

Keeping hold of him, I kicked for what I hoped was the surface, but my dress just ballooned and parachuted. I couldn’t swim! I grabbed Garrett’s belt and held on with one hand in a death-grip while I frantically clawed my dress off my shoulders and down my body with the other, then managed to kick it free. Thank God Garrett had torn the button-up one off me: if I’d still been in that, I’d be dead.

I got my hands under Garrett’s armpits and kicked again, my lungs burning. For several long seconds there was nothing. Was I even swimming the right way?

Just as my lungs felt like they were about to explode, my face broke the surface. I hauled Garrett’s head up too, and looked around. We were in the river and the current had already carried us half a mile from the dam.

The moon was behind a cloud and there was hardly any light. I shouted Garrett’s name but he didn’t respond. There was too much noise from the rushing water to hear if he was breathing.

I put my hand tentatively around the back of his head, where the gun had been pressed. Soft, shaggy hair. I explored, hardly daring to breathe. Hair, hair—

Hot wetness, sticky on my hand. Oh Jesus, no! I jerked my fingers away.

I was panting with cold and fear and desperation. I kicked for the side but the current was too strong and the banks of the river were too high: there was nowhere I could climb out. For now, I had to just focus on keeping Garrett’s head above water.

A mile further on, we entered the city. By now, I was exhausted from supporting Garrett’s body. My heart sank when I saw the deserted streets. Even this late at night, there’d normally be some people wandering back from bars and clubs. But the bombs had scared everyone off the streets. Even the late-night bars were shuttered. I twisted around in the water, looking for someone, anyone. “ Help!” I yelled into the darkness. “ Please!” But no one answered.

I was going to have to do this myself.

When I saw some stone steps that led up from the river, I kicked my way over to them. The current was so strong and Garrett was so big and heavy that I almost didn’t make it in time. I reached the side as the water whipped us past and only barely got my fingertips hooked onto the bottom step. Then I had to haul us against the current until we were at the foot of the steps.

For the first time in what felt like hours, I stopped swimming and managed to put my feet down. I got Garrett lying on the bottom few steps and thought about just slumping there to rest. I was utterly exhausted, my muscles were on fire from fighting the current and I couldn’t stop shaking. But I knew that if I stopped, I’d never get going again. A cold wind was blowing through the streets, knifing through my soaked clothes and stripping what little heat my body had left. If I lay down, I’d pass out and freeze to death.

Getting Garrett up the steps to the street nearly killed me. He weighed at least twice what I did and his soaking clothes made it worse. I had to heave him up one step at a time, shaking uncontrollably, being careful not to bang his head. When we finally reached the street, I knelt down over him and put my head on his chest. It was the first time we’d been away from the roar of the water, the first time I’d had a chance to hear—

Yes! It was weak and shallow, but he was breathing. I had to get him to a hospital.

Stumbling and slow with cold and fatigue, I went to the end of the street and looked around the corner. I recognized where I was, now. It was one of the city’s main squares: a big cobbled plaza with trees and benches. Big animated signs line the buildings around it and advertisers pay huge amounts to advertise there because there’s so much foot traffic. I’d never seen it deserted. A pair of soldiers were patrolling it. Thank God. They could take us to the hospital and then I’d have Aleksander and General Novak arrested—

I hurried across the square but they were facing away from me and didn’t hear me approach. My teeth were chattering too much for me to yell: I’d have to go right up to them .

I was halfway there when I focused on one of the big screens. It was showing a news channel and—

What?!

I stumbled to a stop right in the center of the square, my face lit up by the light from the screen. I was staring at an image of me. And next to my photo, a headline my brain couldn’t process.

Queen exposed as traitor.