Title: A World of Possibilities
Author: knightshade
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own Knight Rider, its ideas, characters, branches, divisions, or wholly-owned subsidiaries. See Glen A. Larson and Universal for that.

Summary: If she couldn't keep her head above water, he'd have to bring the oxygen to her.

Author's Notes: Thank yous to the wonderful Nutty for reading this not once, but twice. Thank you for pointing out the areas where it needed work.

World of Possibilities

He ran back out toward the listing, twisted metal frame again, the waves breaking around his knees, pushing him off balance, and slowing him down. The semi was at least another hundred feet away.

"Kitt?"

"RC has regained consciousness and is putting pressure on the wound, Michael. I think he's going to be okay."

Michael had found him limp in the cab with a nasty-looking head wound. He'd taken RC to the beach and left him with Kitt so that he could go back. "And Bonnie?"

"Her condition is the same, Michael, but the water's still rising." When he had first reached the semi, Kitt had told him that she wasn't badly injured – a sprained ankle, soft tissue injuries to her leg, cuts and bruising -- which didn't make Michael feel much better about leaving her there. But she was trapped inside and RC's injuries were more severe so Michael didn't have a choice. The only thing he could do was get back to her as soon as possible.

"Does the fire department know that they need to bring scuba gear and extraction tools?"

"They know, Michael, and they're on their way."

The water was less than four feet deep, but Michael dove into the surf knowing he could get there a lot faster swimming than trying to run through the water. His arms knifed through the waves as he closed the distance between him and the heap of metal that had once been the semi. It had come to a stop on its side after being thrown off the bridge. They were lucky it was a low bridge and they had landed in shallow water. But the trailer was a mess. Part of the roof and wall were ripped apart like someone had taken a giant can opener to them.

Michael climbed up the undercarriage, but the side of the trailer was wet and slippery. It had landed in a rocky area and instead of lying flat, it was tilted up at an angle. He fell back into the water with a splash. Frustrated, Michael took a few steps back so that he could see better and found a point where the side wall was badly dented. He managed to climb back up and pull himself onto the side of the semi, sitting in the cradle of the dent. Not wasting any time, he quickly scooted over to the door, pulled it open, and peered inside.

"Bonnie!"

"Here, Michael." She was in a shadowy area in what was left of Kitt's service bay, surrounded by twisted metal. The good thing about the damage to the semi's roof was that it let in enough light for him to see below. The water looked fairly clear of debris so he turned around and lowered himself as far as his arms would allow -- it wouldn't do either of them any good if he broke an ankle getting in. He dropped down, lost his footing on the sharply angled floor, and slid in the water until he came to rest against the overturned computer table.

Michael managed to get back to his feet and carefully picked his way through the knee-high water. Bonnie was pinned against the far wall by the heavy steel shelf that held her equipment. She was neck deep in water that was pouring in through the various tears in the semi's aluminum skin.

"You know, if you wanted to try to barrel roll this thing, you really should have given it a coating of MBS first," he said, mostly to release some of his own tension.

"The thought had crossed my mind. But either way we would have ended up in the water. Semi's and rockets don't mix well -- MBS or not."

"And you give me a hard time about my 'stunts.'" He knelt down in front of her, relieved that she was alert and her color looked good. "You okay?"

"I think so. My shoulder hurts, but it's not too bad. My leg is getting numb though, and I can't get it loose."

"Don't worry. We'll get you out of here." He stood up to survey the shelf and other debris. Picking what seemed like a promising spot, he grabbed hold and tried to pull. It didn't budge. He heaved again, and it shifted slightly but not enough to be promising. Thinking that it would probably be easier to push instead of pull, Michael stepped around the leg of an overturned chair to get between the shelf and the wall it was resting against. He put his back against the cold aluminum to push upward on the shelf. "Be ready to slide out if you think you can," he said and then pushed with all his strength. But he felt the metal behind him move instead of the shelf.

"Michael, stop," Kitt said over the comlink. "The wall is pulling away from the ceiling, letting in more water. The shelf still has equipment and tools lashed into it. It's too heavy. I don't believe you're going to be able to get her out that way. "

"Pal, can you get to the bridge and use your grappling hook to help pull it?"

"I'm afraid not. The semi is too far away from the bridge. My grappling hook won't reach."

Michael ran a hand through his wet hair. "Okay. Any suggestions?"

"Try to slow the water to give the fire department time to get here."

Michael sighed. That wasn't the approach he wanted to take, but it appeared to be the only one left to him. There was a hole in the wall over the office section where the rocket had hit and where water was pouring in. Michael slogged his way over and found the conference table. He pulled it up and forced it against the hole. Luckily it was heavy enough to slow the tide a little bit.

The front of the office where the ceiling had pulled away from the wall was getting doused with water each time waves rolled over it. Michael grabbed a chair, braced it against the wall, and climbed up. He striped out of his t-shirt and wrapped it around his hand before reaching up to pull the twisted sheet of aluminum back down into place. He was showered by waves a couple of times in the process but managed to get it at least part of the way closed.

"Anywhere else I can do any good, pal?"

"I'm afraid not, Michael, and by my calculations, it's not enough."

The distress in his partner's voice was obvious. Michael climbed off the chair, bracing himself for the bad news. "'Not enough' how exactly?"

"The rate at which the water is rising has been slowed, but not enough. It'll be over Bonnie's head before help arrives."

"How long before the rescue crew gets here?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"And the water?"

"Approximately eight minutes."

Michael closed his eyes, trying not to let that piece of information sink in too deeply. There was a way, and the three of them were going to find it. He sloshed back through the water to where Bonnie was trapped. Her eyes were wide and it was obvious that the water had risen significantly in just a short time.

"Guess I'm going to have to hold my breath," she said. Her voice had picked up a hollow echo in the watery surroundings.

Michael didn't like the fatalistic look in her eyes. He pushed back his own fears and frustration, and knelt down in the cold water in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands and said, "We're going to get you out of here. You're not going to drown in three feet of water. I'm not going to let that happen, okay?" He tried to drill that home, staring into her eyes until she nodded her head.

"Okay."

Michael dropped his hand to her shoulder before realizing that she was shivering. "Are you cold?"

"A little."

He wondered if it was just the water temperature or if she was going into shock. Kitt had said that her injuries weren't bad – nothing broken -- but he didn't know how badly her leg was being crushed or how much blood she might be losing internally. He just didn't know much about those kinds of injuries. He slid down and arranged himself on a piece of dislocated metal so that he could sit next to her. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as best he could to help keep her warm. She leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder.

Michael forced himself to think rationally. He'd had training in this sort of thing as a scuba diver. If she couldn't keep her head above water, he'd have to bring the oxygen to her.

"Have you ever gone diving or taken scuba lessons?" he asked.

"No."

"If a diver runs out of oxygen or has a problem with his tank, he shares his dive buddy's regulator. We'll have to do the same thing here only with mouth-to-mouth."

She gave him a sideways look and paused half a second before saying, "Okay."

Michael was hit with a funny memory from high school. He kept his grin to himself though. He had a feeling that she wouldn't appreciate hearing about the would-be girlfriend who'd told him she'd rather die than kiss him. Although, if it started to look like she might be going into shock, it wasn't a half-bad idea to make her mad. He almost believed she would be able to hold her breath for seven minutes if she were angry enough and doing it to spite him. In the meantime though, the water was still rising and he wanted her to be as prepared as possible. "You don't have a mask, so you'll want to keep your nose pinched shut to keep from breathing in water."

She nodded. But Michael was still worried. He knew that breathing underwater wasn't something that came naturally to most people. At least not at first. If she panicked or somehow breathed in water and started sputtering and coughing when she couldn't surface, she'd drown. And he knew that a lot of people washed out of scuba certification classes because they couldn't handle breathing through a regulator – especially without a mask. "We should probably try it first before you actually have to do it."

"Okay."

Part of him was a little worried about what she thought about him doing mouth-to-mouth on her, but he brushed those thoughts away. As far as he could see, this was the only way to save her life. "Go ahead and go under. We'll do a couple of breaths." She covered her nose and sunk under the water. He gave it a second before carefully putting his hand on the back of her neck and going under himself. He found her lips and parted his own to breathe out. Then he carefully closed them again, keeping a seal, and came up to get another breath and repeat the process. After doing it a third time, she came back up with him.

"Okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, but it's a little unnerving to be breathing under water."

That was exactly the sort of thing that worried him. This would be a lot easier if she had dive training. "Just keep focusing on breathing and try to relax. It'll only be a few minutes that we need to do this."

Although, he had a feeling those few minutes were going to feel like hours.

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To Be Continued