From: Robin Quinn
Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2001 21:25:52 -0500
Subject: Dark Angel FanFic
Source: direct
Reply To: rquinn1@mindspring.com
Author:RobinHood
Title:Sunk
Rating:G
Genres:Story Angst
Pairings:Max/Logan friendship.
Spoilers:None. Before "Rising"
Summary:Logan's thoughts. Possibly his last.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine. Wish they were. Please don't hurt me.
****************************************
Sunk
So, we're fighting again. Nothing new but this is probably not a good
time for it. I mean, locked in a cargo hole of a ship waiting to be
dumped overboard is most likely not the best time to be arguing over
who should have done what.
Oh, did I mention we are bound up. Her by her feet and hands, me to
my wheelchair waiting to be dumped overboard when we reach a suitably
remote location.
I'm guessing I'm going over chair and all. Should have passed on the
one with the jet thrusters and looked for one with a flotation device.
20-20 hind sight.
Why are we arguing, you ask? It's what we do. If you want specifics;
I'm angry at her for not getting away when she had the chance and
she's mad at me for even suggesting that she leave me to my gruesome
fate.
A plan, you say. Sure, I have a plan. She gets out of her shackles
and swims back to shore and I drown. Simple. Okay, it's not perfect
but what in life is? Besides, it's the only plan that has a chance of
succeeding.
You see, we are not tied up so much as chained. Even Max can't chew
through them and they're better to weigh down the bodies I suppose.
They have chained Max with her hands and feet spread. No fools they
since she got loose once before we left port. They caught her when she
wouldn't leave me behind. Hence our argument.
I think she'll still be okay. She'll be able to free herself by
picking the locks or something. Hell, she can probably swim loaded
down with 20 pounds of metal. Not to mention hold her breath for four
or five minutes. Max'll get loose once they deep six us. (my my,
first time I've used that term literally) My real concern is she'll
push her luck trying to save me too.
Don't get me wrong. I don't want to die. I just don't want Max to die
trying to do something even she can't. I mean, free herself, follow me
down ( my size and the chair guarantee I'll sink faster) free me and
get us both back to the surface before either of us runs out of air.
Even Max has her limits.
No matter what I say, she'll try. I guess she'll have to, for her own
piece of mind. She'd never forgive herself if she just let me die. She
would spend the rest of her life wondering if she could have saved me.
I hope it helps her deal with my death when she fails. I know she will
blame herself but perhaps in time she will see that it was a lost
cause.
Wonder how deep it will be? I hate the idea of dying alone in the dark
but I'm guessing that our hosts aren't really concerned with my
delicate sensibilities. No last request for the condemned. How
uncivilized.
Max has her 'I'm-scared-but-trying-to-stay-angry-to-cover-it' look.
She won't talk or even look at me. I know she's thought of all the
things I've mentioned and is still trying to figure out a scenario
that ends with both of us surviving.
There isn't one.
All I can hope for at this point is that she doesn't get herself
killed attempting to do the impossible. I don't want her to die for or
because of me. But I can't do anything one way or the other. All I can
do is sit here, helpless. God, I hate being helpless.
I suppose I can always end it quickly. One deep breath right after we
hit the water and there will nothing for Max to save. After all, she
can't make me hold my breath. It would be over before she knew it. Not
a pleasant thought and I'm honestly not sure I will be able to
override the survival instinct that easily but at least it's an
option. Pretty much the only one I can come up with.
I can feel the engines slowing. I wonder why. We can't be very far out
and the smugglers usually like to dump their 'cargo' well off shore.
Something must be wrong. Dare I hope we've caught a break?
Max is looking at me now and I see the same hope in her eyes that she
must see in mine. I am trying not to hope. It will hurt too much if it
is false.
The door to our prison opens and several men enter, all heavily armed.
One puts a gun to my head and another aims at me from a distance. Two
more focus on Max. They have figured out that threatening me is the
best way to assure her good behavior. I wish they were wrong.
One man uncuffs Max and recuffs her hands behind her and shackles her
feet together. I can tell she is watching and waiting for a chance to
break free but they don't give her one. Instead they pick her up and
carry her out.
She puts up a struggle but I think it is more for show. They are too
careful. With me they just undo the chain holding my chair in place,
leaving the ones holding me in the chair alone and wheel me after
Max.
The sun is shining as we are brought on deck. Port side. We were
headed north so any sign of land would be on starboard side. Which
means I can't tell if we are still in sight of the coast. I think I
hear the sound of distant sirens which is likely the reason for
advancing our time of departure. Even in these corrupt times the Coast
Guard will frown on kidnapping and drowning people. Unless, of course
they have been paid the appropriate fees. No freebies.
I don't think we've had time to pass the continental shelf which means
we are not too far out to sea. It won't be as deep as I thought so
perhaps I will hit bottom before the surface is out of sight. Maybe I
won't have to die alone in darkness after all. Not much in the way of
consolation but one takes what one can get.
Two of the men heft Max and swing her over the railing. She twists
around to look at me on last time before they toss her over without
ceremony. She disappears without a sound. My turn next.
I don't bother putting up a fight since I can barely move. It takes
four of them to lift me over the railing. I was right about going in
chair and all.
One push and I go over backward, rather like a scuba diver. I hear
the engines kick in just before the water closes over me. It is cold.
Instinctively I gasp for one last lung full of air as the salt water
covers my face. I close my eyes at first but force them open to look
for Max.
I see her as I sink past, she already has her hands around front and
her feet free. That's my genetically engineered killing machine. Piece
of cake for her. Maybe I should have taken lessons. She spares me a
glance before resuming her struggles to free herself. I cast her what
I hope is a brave face as I continue to sink, but I can already feel
the pressure in my lungs starting to build.
Most people think a drowning person is fighting to take in oxygen, but
what really causes the expelling of the last of the air and the final
fatal intake of water is not the overwhelming need for air but the
body's need to expel the carbon dioxide that is building up. Not
really important since the results are the same but it does give me
something else to think about for a moment.
Okay, moment over. My lungs are beginning to burn with the afore
mentioned need. It won't be long now when I will need to exhale and
then the inevitable need to inhale will follow. I am too deep to see
Max anymore but not too far down that I can't see the surface light
above me. Small comfort but I'll take it.
I stare up at the flickering light and concentrate on the undulations
in an attempt to distract myself for a little longer. I try not to
notice the air bubbles that sneak past my lips. I can't hold it in
much longer but I still resist taking that last breath. It seems I
can't just let go. It will have to be forced out of me. I can't give
up life so easily.
It's time now, I think. I can't ignore the pain in my chest any
longer. I close my eyes and prepare for the feeling of icy water
filling my body when I instead feel a warm something brush my face. I
open my eyes and try to hold on to what little air is still in my
lungs as I see Max.
She has come to try and save me, just as I knew she would. She
reaches for the chains holding me in the chair but I shake my head in
an attempt to tell her it is too late. I must inhale, breath. My body
doesn't want to listen to my mind. It doesn't know that the next
breath will kill me. My lungs scream with need. Just as I exhale the
last of the oxygen depleted air Max stuns me.
She puts her mouth over mine and for a second I think she is kissing
me goodbye, again. But she pinches my nose and exhales into my mouth,
forcing air from her body into mine. I don't understand what she is
doing but my starved lungs do. They suck in what she offers greatfully
and the pain in my chest eases a little.
With a quick smile of encouragement she pushes herself towards the
surface and fresh air only to dive again quickly and deliver more life
to me using her own body as a vessel.
It is not perfect and it won't work for long but it is how artificial
respiration works.There is still useful oxygen in the air we exhale
and it is this she gives to me.
Time and again she does this. Up to gulp in air, down to share it and
attack my bindings. Each time staying long enough to work her magic.
As the first of the chains comes loose I begin to realized I may not
die today after all.
She works another one loose and heads back to the surface. I can hold
on better now, ignore the pain knowing there is hope of survival.
Leave it to Max to think of a way. She'll probably gloat for weeks
about proving me wrong. I can live with that.
Live.
What a wonderful word.
End