Paul cursed as his foot painfully connected with Zoey's hand, sending the bullet flying into the mechanisms of the helicopter, the gun falling to the ground and clattering across the floor as the helicopter tilted, Paul's stomach rising into his throat as they dropped through the air, wind whipping through his clothes as it tore through the open cabin door.
Emma cried out as the helicopter rotated, - most likely due to Zoey's struggling form in the cockpit, the infected woman tearing at her seat restraints as she tried to get into the passengers' area of the helicopter to infect Paul and Emma - and as the helicopter turned sideways, Emma slipped out of her seat, a shrill shriek emitting from her hoarse throat as she threw out a hand and latched onto Pauls' seat belt, Paul grasping her wrists and hauling her towards himself as her legs dangled out of the helicopter, the shrieking winds pulling at her form as the helicopter plummeted towards the ground.
As Paul hauled the shaking form of Emma back into her seat and tightened the seatbelt around her lap, he looked out the side of the helicopter and gasped as he saw the rapidly approaching surface of the river that ran between Hatchetfield and Clivesdale, the dark waters frothing with waves and ripples pulled by the howling wind that raced across its surface.
"Paul!" Emma dug her fingers into his shoulders, her voice rising as panic took ahold of her. "I don't wanna die!"
"Hang on Emma!" Paul clutched his barista close as he kicked Zoey's reaching hands away, his hair whipping around his face as the helicopter screamed through the air, carrying the three inhabitants towards what was an almost certain death. "Don't let go, don't let go!"
Emma could only stare out the helicopter with horror as the water of the river swiftly rose to meet the helicopter. She sucked in breath after breath, panic clouding her mind.
She was going to die here. So close to making it out of the musical-hellscape that was Hatchetfield, only to die in a helicopter crash. Of course.
"Emma!" Paul grasped her hand in his. "I love you!"
Emma gasped, "I love yo-"
Emma was slammed forward, her body arching as the seatbelt fastened across her lap kept her lower body in place, but the impact of the helicopter tossed her forward and painfully tugged her against the seatbelt that had kept her safe only moment previously, but now kept her stuck in the sinking helicopter.
"Emma," Paul was at her side, lifting her up and fumbling with her seatbelt release, pulling her to her feet in the cabin of the helicopter, the water already pooling and swirling around their knees. "We've got to get out of here, come on!" Paul had quickly thrown off his shoes and his suit jacket along with his dress shirt and pants, leaving him in only his boxers as to not get dragged down by the water. Emma quickly followed suit, soon standing in just her Beanies uniform shorts and her white tank-top that she always wore underneath her uniform.
As Emma walked to the edge of the cabin to throw herself into the frigid waters of the river, her eyes caught sight of Zoey, the previously loud and melody-spouting woman now limp and motionless in the cockpit, her legs crushed and mangled underneath the crumpled and warped metal of the helicopter.
Emma tore her eyes away from the gruesome scene and jumped into the water.
As the cold water enveloped her form, Emma gasped, her legs frantically kicking as she struggled to stay afloat.
"Emma," Paul popped up next to her, his teeth loudly chattering as he treaded water beside Emma. "We need to get to Clivesdale," Paul pointed to the distant shore, dotted with the lights of the Clivesdale night. "And we've gotta get away from the helicopter or we're going to get dragged down with it."
"Paul, I-" Emma sucked in a breath, already exhausted. "I don't know if I can make it."
"Yes you can, Emma." Paul smiled reassuringly at her. "You're going to make it out of here alive Emma."
With that Paul began to swim, his confident strokes slicing through the water with Emma following him, her gasping breaths and the sounds of their limbs smacking against the water the only sounds that filled the silent air.
At least there was no music.
The silence continued for a few more minutes as the shore grew steadily closer, Emma would guess that it was only a mere thirty or twenty feet away.
They were so close, but...
"Paul! Paul, Paul wait," Emma threw out a hand, flailing slightly as her leg cramped, the limb seizing up and causing her forward motion to falter, the barista craning her head upwards as the river water climbed up her neck. She just couldn't swim anymore.
"Emma!" Paul swam into her view, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and kicking his legs, his efforts keeping the both of them afloat - for now. "It's okay Em, I've got you."
"Paul-" Emma gasped, her free arm - the other being wrapped around Paul's shoulders - and leg trying their best to assist in keeping the two of them afloat. "Paul you won't be able to keep this up. You can't get both of us to shore while carrying me."
"No," Paul shook his head, his eyes imploring Emma to stay strong, to keep swimming. "You can do this Emma. Just rest for a moment, and we'll continue. You're almost there."
"O-okay," Emma gasped in another breath, sighing in relief as the cramping pain from her thigh faded. "Okay."
"Are you ready?" Paul gazed at her, his eyes filled with trust and belief - belief in Emma.
She could do this.
She would do this.
Emma nodded and Paul dropped the arm he had placed around her waist, letting Emma drop back fully into the water, her legs and arms treading water before pushing her body forward, her rested arms stroking through the water confidently once again as she followed Paul, the shoreline approaching swiftly now.
They were almost there.
Emma took another stroke, before doing it again, again, and agai-
But she couldn't bring her arm back up to propel herself through the water.
Her legs stilled, weariness suddenly clouding her mind, weighing down her limbs.
Emma sunk.
She sunk, her lungs too exhausted to call out to Paul's retreating form for help.
Emma's lungs screamed, begged for air, but she couldn't get a single breath.
Her vision flashed, her lungs burned as she crumpled onto the riverbed, her eyes wide open as she stared at the shoreline above her, only maybe ten or fifteen feet away.
But she just couldn't get her tired limbs to move, her weary arms to pull herself up through the water, her aching legs to push herself up towards the oxygen she so desperately needed.
She really was going to die here.
As the world faded around her and the barista slumped over in the water, Emma's mouth slipped open, letting a stream of air bubbles escape and rush towards the surface above her. The surface she would never reach.
But then-
Hands on hers, someone else's hair tickling her cheek. Someone diving around her to encircle her chest with their arms, pulling her up by her armpits, their feet kicking her dangling ones as they rose towards the surface.
Emma gasped, choking on the water deep within her lungs as she was pushed above the surface, pushed towards the shoreline until she could feel the small rocks and strands of seaweed against her feet, her rescuer - Paul - dragging her out of the water and onto the rocky river shore, lying her down gently and rolling her onto her side as she choked and coughed up river water and burning bile, tests streaming from her reddened and irritated eyes.
But as Paul crouched beside her, and Emma sat up, pressing her forehead into Virgil's cold shoulder as he enveloped her into a tight hug, she felt grateful.
As the two huddled among the riverside, shaking from the cold and the shock of what had happened, Emma felt a smile grace her face.
"Fuck you Hatchetfield," Emma heard Paul choke out a shocked laugh at her words. "We survived."
And that they did.
They survived.