Thirty Nine Minutes (COMPLETE)

Chapter Twenty Seven: Swim to Her

Time was not on their side. Even with Craig's kisses, his glow filling her with untold magic. The water was filled with corpses. Some floated towards the surface, others were sinking, almost dancing an eerie ballet in the clear water as they descended into the deep. Craig's arm held her tighter and she held his neck in response.

Helen had no idea what was happening on the deck, but given Neil had bailed, perhaps relationships were souring even between Fleur and David. Her right hand squeezed the hilt of the knife. 

A muted splash and whipping noise. Helen looked to see blood clouding from Craig's back. Trying not to gasp, she gripped him tighter, only to see the harpoon embedded deep in the top of his tail. Craig's face was a contortion of surprise and pain, and without warning he was yanked backwards, ripping Helen from his grasp.

Helen floundered as her lungs ached once more. She tried to kick herself back to him but a corpse drifted past, pulled by the swirling water. They were right by the trawler net.

Well, Helen was. Craig had already been dragged to the hull and was being hauled up tail first. He thrashed and squirmed but it made no difference whatsoever. He still glowed brilliantly, leaving Helen in the complete darkness.

Pitch blackness is rare in today's screen-filled world. The darkness of the ocean even rarer still. Helen kicked to the surface, passing multiple corpses on the way that by now resembled nothing more than driftwood. The air filled her lungs but she felt no better because of it. The only source of light came from the ship above her, but the sounds were myriad and distressing: Craig's protests, the crying children, the churning water. 

They had run out of time.

She heard the rumble of the engines purring to life as the trawler net was pulled in, taking her with it. Within seconds she was lost in the thrashing terror of these creatures, pressed against their cold bodies and tangled in their limbs or hair.

The boat began to move, lurching Helen as she held onto the net trying to desperately keep her head above water. "Helen." She heard the choked gagging of Neil and snapped her neck around.

Only panic could be seen. Within the net nothing but frothing water and screaming existed. Chaos so confined made it hard to do anything other than simply give in to it. Panic seemed to strip every other potential option away.

Take a deep breath. Count backwards from ten. Her own advice bled into her mind. Advice she had just given to Craig only moments earlier. Find something to count, and root yourself away from your panic.

Helen counted each blue finger in turn as the threat of freezing to death nipped at the back of her neck. One, two, three… How much longer could she keep this up? Around her, the merfolk screamed and slithered; above her, Craig yelled in agony.

Four, five, six, seven… 

Her eyes were heavy, beyond the point of fatigue. Her body, miraculously, was working on some other kind of fuel that transcended what her physical body was capable of.

Eight, nine.

Helen fell asleep.

*****

"Let me go, you bastards!" Craig twisted against the almost debilitating pain pulsing down his tail, but he continued trying to drag himself away. Some of his nails had been ripped off as he had pulled against the rope that wound him in, but he would not give up.

"Stop struggling, you're not doing yourself any favors, boy."

"Screw you! Get away from me."

"That one there?" David straddled himself over Craig and held his arms at his wrists. The pain was making Craig hazy, and despite his best efforts he was struggling to keep alert. David squeezed his wrists and pushed his arms back up on themselves, so much so that Craig yelped. "Struggle anymore, and I'll break your arms."

Swimming within his veins was more than just a cosmetic glow. It may have looked pretty, but somehow, perhaps innately, he could taste what it was that flowed through him. If David tried to cut off one of his barbs, then he too would discover Craig's final line of defence. He stilled.

At the first slice, his body reacted even before he could. The barbs, glowing and pulsing with deadly venom, became taut and shot out quills in every direction. They embedded into the wood, the door of the engine room.

Into David and Fleur.

Neil's mother dropped instantly, juddering and gasping. Her frail body contorted on the deck. She died within two minutes. David gasped and held up his arm to protect himself. The darts stuck fast into his flesh, and the glowing venom turned black as it began to spread through his body.

"What have you done?" His voice cracked as he staggered off of Craig. "What did you do?" 

Craig pulled himself to his forearms, the barbs tingling from their release.

"I had to stop you. That is, that is what I did."

"You…" David gagged as the black thread spread through him as quick as his circulation went. In ten seconds he was on his knees, and by ninety seconds he was unconscious, never to awake again.

Helen. Craig hauled his bloodied hands back to the edge, back to the net. As Neil cut the side of the net free, he saw her, mostly submerged and unconscious, wrapped up with several other panicking merfolk. The net came away from the boat, and Helen was pulled down with the masses of bodies.

Craig screamed, and his body turned ablaze. "Neil! Get the young ones down from the boat!"

Without another word, he pushed himself off the side and tumbled heavily into the foaming water. Down into the darkness he fell.

He counted as he darted downwards. Five seconds, ten seconds. Her body, tangled in the panicking mass disappearing from him. He pushed past the pain in his aching tail, and pumped it as hard as he could. He focused on her hands as the darkness closed in around him. Swim to her.

Swim to her.

He stretched, his fingertips brushing hers, the blackness pulling at his insides, scraping inside his mind. She was close. He just had to swim a bit further.

To her.