Hiya! You know those 2:30 AM flashes of brilliance? (that result in you being unable to fall back asleep and thus yawning all during school?) Meet my new story, Guardian of the Sea. It has nothing to do with my other stories and I've just started working on it, so I don't know how often I'll have new posts (but I promise to try and finish it, even if I have to kill off all the characters to do so.)
"The storm is about to get worse. Micah, you need to return to base now."
I grit my teeth. "Five minutes. I am not returning to the father and sister until I have exerted every last possibility—"
A gust of wind slams into me and my partner, stinging my face with icy drops of rain.
"Pidgeo!" Comet struggles to regain his balance in the midst of the seething storm. Despite my nearly frozen hands, I hold tight to the straps, knowing that letting go means a plunge into the wild sea.
"Five minutes, Micah," Jasper says. "If you don't find the woman and boy by then, you are coming back."
I feel ill, but it has nothing to do with the rollercoaster ride of soaring on a Pidgeot during a storm. It's the thought of returning before I know for certain that the search is hopeless. But I know my captain is right. The Coast Guard will do everything it can to save someone, but there comes a point when the living takes precedence over the unknown, and the guardian must do the hardest thing: save himself.
I reluctantly respond, "Roger."
The radio cuts off, and I am once again the only human presence in the chaotic night sky.
"Comet, can you get a bit lower?" I call above the howling squall.
"Pidge!" My brave pokemon responds with obedience, even though doing so risks a sudden downdraft shoving us into the black waves. Straining my eyes, I hope the searchlight around Comet's neck hits something unnatural. Something alive. Something human. The waves and the sheeting rain make my job infinitely more difficult. I quietly curse whatever urge made this family decide on a boating trip with a storm warning in effect.
"Gah!" A strong blast hurls sea spray in my face and I have to release one of the handles to scrub the water out of my stinging eyes.
"Pidge-pidge!"
"You saw something?" The anxious hand of hope squeezes my heart.
"Eo!"
"Okay, turn around."
Comet banks and I hold on. The searchlight catches upon a rock and my pulse skyrockets when I spot the two human forms.
"We've got them!" I holler and relay the coordinates into the radio. As I do so, I toss the rope over Comet's side for me to grab once down there. "Get ready to pull us up," I tell Comet and dive into the air.
The water strikes me like a pile of bricks and the darkness becomes absolute. The current is almost a living thing, an enraged creature with thousands of grasping hands that yank me every which way. I kick to the surface and set out at a brisk stroke. Comet's searchlight flashes over the surface of the water and I rely on its unsteady illumination to guide me to the rock. Waves cut across my vision. One second I can see the shivering figures, the next they're gone. I let the tempo of the sea bring me ever nearer the rock.
I am fifteen feet away when a black wave crashes against the stone and rips the smaller figure off. A scream rents the night air for less than a second before the storm drowns it with the pounding rain.
In a moment, a surge picks me up and thrusts me forward. I slam into the rock, scrambling for purchase. The wave recedes, almost bringing me with it, and half a second later the ocean sends another minion to batter me against the hard surface. Water floods my mouth, my eyes, my nose. The saltiness causes my tongue to tingle, my eyes to burn, and my nose to smart, but it's nothing I haven't felt before. Digging my fingers into every crevice, I inch to the side until I can grab the woman's arm. She jerks back.
"I'm here to help," I yell. Comet's light flashes over us, revealing the woman's frantic eyes, stringy hair, and fingers bloodied from her death-grip on the stone.
"Owen!" She screams back. "Save Owen!"
"Where?"
She points in a general direction. Although my chances are slim, I know I have to try. "I'll come back for you." I promise. Bending my knees, I launch myself into the inky liquid.
I stay below the surface, letting the current drag me where it pleases, hopefully the same direction it took Owen. The night sea is black, so I grab a pokeball.
"La!" With the emergence of my Lanturn, the water becomes as clear as day. We bob to the surface and I gasp for air before saying,
"Ella, help me find the boy!"
"La." Ella dives and I follow, catching hold of her antenna.
There!
Almost immediately, I spot the kid. He's limp and the current tosses him around like a rag doll. Ella speeds ahead and I grasp a foot, pull him close to gather him in my arms. Please, please be alive.
The sea erupts in a fountain of spray when we burst into the air and storm. I clench my knees tight on Ella's back to keep the ocean from snatching me or the boy away again.
"Come on, Owen." I lightly slap his little cheeks. "Don't let me and your mom down. I know you're still there."
He doesn't move. He's not breathing.
"Don't you dare do this to me." Bending down, I pinch his nose and breathe into his mouth, but the air doesn't go in. Sticking my fingers into his mouth, I make sure seaweed or his tongue isn't blocking his airway before trying again. It still doesn't work. "Come on." I begin chest compressions, hoping to force some of the water out of his lungs. "You're mom will kill you if you die on me. Heck, she'll probably kill me t—"
Water bubbles out of his mouth and I tip him to the side so it pours out, then I tip his head back, pinch his nose closed again, and breathe. This time, his chest rises slightly.
"You can do this. We can do this," I say as I press down on his chest. The rain sheets down and I'm soaked to the bone, but all I can think of is this little boy in front of me and his mom by the rock, praying I save him. "Please."
I breathe into his mouth. One breath, two breaths. I hear a faint gurgling and suddenly everything comes up. I jerk up and turn the boy back to his side, feeling a thunderclap of relief as he spews water and whatever he last ate all over Ella's back. I myself spit to the side to get the bitter taste of his vomit out of my mouth. When he's done, he lets out a whimper.
"It's okay." By the light of my Lanturn, I can see the faint blue around his lips and I'm pretty sure tears mix with rain on his cheeks. I hug the shivering boy. I need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible, or the combination of shock and hypothermia could still kill him. "Come on. Let's go get your mom."
I pat Ella's back and we head back to the rock. The wind has gotten stronger and the waves rise higher. We bob on top like a cork. The flood of relief that we found these two before the storm worsened is nearly overwhelming. Soon, I'd load them up on Comet and we'd fly to the nearest Coast Guard boat, where they'd get warm, comfort their family over the radio, and eat something. The newspaper would probably run a story and my name might get mentioned. Truthfully, though, the idea isn't as exhilarating as it was three years ago, when I was a rookie. My job isn't something I do for attention but because I love it. Although I might-could go for one of Kaylee's cups of ultra-chocolaty hot-cocoa.
A surge propels us forward and Ella's light bounces off the tip of the rock.
"Almost there," I say with a smile. Then the water dips and I feel like someone cut out my heart, opened it up, and emptied all the emotions into the sea.
The mother is gone.
…
Blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I stare into the ICU. The boy's pulse is strong and he's regained fine motor control, both good signs. The doctors assure me he'll make a full recovery.
But I know he won't.
Physically, perhaps he will. Emotionally, however, he will be scarred for the rest of his life. Like me. Because I didn't save his mom.
She wasn't the first person I have lost. Two months after I joined the service, a three year old went missing. We found him four days later. Nine months in, I rescued an old lady from a wreck only to have her die of hypothermia in the hospital. A little less than a year ago, we raided a drug trafficking ship, it went bad, and one of my coworkers got shot. Not to mention the other deaths. So many more. Missing, shipwrecked, stupid accidents. But this was the first time it was directly related to my actions. The first time when it was my fault.
A click and the AC turns on. The hospital is cold, but not as cold as the stormy sea. My new clothes are dry too, and that makes a big difference. I still pull the blanket closer.
In the room, Owen's father gets to his feet and pushes back his chair. The girl, who looks only a few years older than her brother, briefly glances up before continuing her animated conversation with the patient. Based on the children's smiles and laughs, I assume they don't yet know. But the father knows. When he pushes open the door and steps into the hall, his mask falls away. Devastation and bereavement etch an extra twenty years onto his face. For a moment, his shoulders sag, and he is a haggard, defeated old man. He just lost the love of his life. Who wouldn't be?
Catching sight of me, he shoves away the grief and tries to force a smile. He walks forward.
"So you're the brave young man who saved my son." He holds out his hand.
I don't move, but I do stare him straight in the eye. "I'm sorry." My voice is as broken as my heart. "I tried. I told her I'd come back. I…"
The father sways and puts a hand on the wall, looking like he suffered an actual blow. "You…" His breathing is hard. Anguish flashes in his eyes, pure, intense, and unfiltered. "You left her?"
"I…" I don't know what to say. Maybe because those three words were the truth. What else can I say?
He moves fast, slamming me against the wall and holding me by my shirt. "Why did you leave her?" He yells. "Why?"
I open my mouth but no words come out.
"Let go of him!" A young woman wearing the Coast Guard uniform shoves the man off me. I nearly tumble before regaining my balance. "Leave him alone you big jerk! He tried, okay? It's not his fault."
Tears streak the man's face as he falters backwards a step. There's no fight left in him. He's as broken as me. "My wife…the children…what do I tell them?" Turning, he stumbles down the hall, drunk on grief.
"Daddy?" The girl sticks her head out the door. She sees him and races after. "Daddy, what's wrong?"
"Let's go," Kaylee whispers softly, touching my arm. But I watch a moment more, see as the father can't bear the weight any longer and sinks to the floor, back to the wall, sobbing into his hands. Confused, the girl stands there for half a minute, then starts crying too.
"Micah." She tugs insistently. "It's not your fault. Come on."
Wordlessly, I bend down to pick up the blanket. We step into the dark, early morning air before I say,
"I should have done more."
Kaylee shook her head. "No, Micah. You saved the boy. Don't beat yourself up about not saving the mom."
"You don't get it." My hand clenches around the blanket's navy blue fabric, the same shade as the lightening clouds. "I left her. I should have tied her to Comet's rope, released another pokemon, or…or anything. But I didn't."
Kaylee stands on her tiptoes and gently puts her arms around my shoulders, light purple hair tickling my face. It smells like lilac and I want nothing more than to bury my nose in it and forget about the events of the past few hours. I want to disappear. I want to cry. I want to eat a double-patty bacon cheeseburger and then sleep for a week, which automatically makes me feel guilty.
Owen's mom isn't ever again going to get that luxury.
Eventually, Kaylee pulls back.
"You need chocolate," she decides. Somehow she always thinks chocolate will help and I nearly grin, but it dies before it reaches my face. "And slides, a swing, and monkey bars," she continues. "In fact, I know of a good playground nearby. This early, no one will be around to object to us big kids playing on it."
I shake my head. "I need sleep," I respond in a quiet voice. "And some time to be alone. But thanks, Kaylee." I turn and start walking away.
"Fine," she calls after me. "But if you don't meet me for donuts before work tomorrow, I'm gonna get Alsepher to freeze your butt off!"
The thought of the kind-hearted Dragonair doing anything of the kind almost succeeds in making me smile. Almost.
Hello again! I need your help. Basically, I know the first two chapters and a few scenes throughout, but I need suggestions for the plot (also characters, Micah's last name, and if you see any grammar/spelling mistakes I'll try to fix those.) Also, this is my first time writing in present tense, so please point out any lapses I make in that!
I want to give a shout-out to Criminal Scrub for inspiring the first chapter's name (see Ch. 8 The Ravaged Journey, in Marcel Parker's Sinnoh Adventure.) Thanks, Scrub, for unknowingly helping me when I couldn't think of anything!
Update: Plot complete! It certainly shows signs of being invented on the fly, but the characters helped by beating me over the head with my own stupidity. Also, there weren't many curse words in the original, but I'm going through and removing them because "No foul language is to come from your mouth, but only what is good for building up someone in need" (Eph. 4:29). If I claim to be a Christian, I need to live like it, eh?