Chapter Two
Air. She desperately needed air. Her lungs screamed for it, hammered against her chest with the yearning for it. Catherine was engulfed by water, every inch of her body soaked with it, stuck inside of it. In a slight, thoughtless panic, she opened her eyes amidst the tons of ocean surrounding her. She closed them immediately, glancing nothing more but a blur of blue. Her eyes stung horribly and she cursed herself for opening them in the first place.
The lack of oxygen brought her attention back to her predicament, her lungs pounding horribly. Catherine reached up to her face and wrenched off the waterlogged and useless oxygen mask still plastered onto her face. She felt around with her hands in the blackness, reaching for her seatbelt. She found and undid it, floating upwards slightly as her restraint was lifted. Again, she felt around towards Greg's seat, where he should be. He wouldn't have left her, would he? He wouldn't have left anyone. Her already struggling heart missed a beat when she felt nothing where there should have been something. Her lungs screamed again, screamed at her for not getting them what they needed.
Holding back a reflexive gasp, Catherine reached farther forward and with a wave of relief, she felt somebody—a thigh perhaps. The next moment, somebody had wrapped their fingers around Catherine's wrist and tugged her forward through the water. She was unable to decipher who was pulling her; her head was spinning. The guide swam forward and Catherine allowed herself to flow with them. Then suddenly the person stopped. Catherine's brain yelled and she sputtered out a bubble of carbon dioxide. Her mouth filled with water and she closed her throat up again, her lungs once more hollering at her, why are you not breathing? Breathe! Breathe! She couldn't breathe.
Then she was heaved forward again, her leg brushing against something as she moved ahead. Her guide began pulling her upwards and she realized where they were going. She was out of the plane's skin. With a frenetic wrench of her wrist, she pulled away from her guide and frantically kicked her feet, propelling herself towards the surface. She kicked, her lungs protesting with sharp, painful, stabs into her chest. She sputtered out more bubbles of air and they floated upwards. Just one more kick…one more push…
Just when she thought she might pass out, her head emerged from the ocean, a sheet of the salt-water flowing backwards over her head and pulling her hair out of her face. She gasped, taking in giant swallows of air, a source of life she had taken for granted until now. She spat out the water inside her mouth, gasping desperately as if she were still flailing about underwater. She treaded water, using one hand to clear her face and eyes of the burning saltwater.
Catherine glanced around, panting as the rush of oxygen steadied her heart and brain. Sara was only a few feet from her right, sputtering and gasping just as she was. Greg was to her left, breathing deeply, his breathing coming in soft pants. Across from her swam Ecklie, hundred-dollar-suit soaked and ruined. His swimming seemed faultier than the others, for he treaded water with random, frantic strokes and kicks.
"What the hell happened?" Catherine managed, her voice cracking. She spat out another mouthful of seawater.
"Our plane was shot down?" Greg offered.
"But how? Why? Why our plane?" Catherine demanded.
"Every 20 seconds an airplane in the US has to make an emergency landing." Sara mumbled, "We didn't have anywhere to land so we crashed."
Catherine sighed and glanced behind her. Half of the plane was sticking at a 40-degree angle out of the water. The edge closest to the water was scrunched like an accordion.
"I told you that other plane was full of terrorists," Ecklie hissed.
No one said anything to that.
"What about the other people on the plane?" Greg questioned in the silence.
Sara, whose breathing had finally steadied, cursed loudly, receiving a stern reprimand from Ecklie. Something plastic was digging into her thigh, and she had just remembered what it was. Her face fell, and she turned around to face the plane.
"Sara? Are you all right?" Catherine asked.
"There were two kids on that plane Cath. And their parents. And that older woman."
"I'm sure they made it fine, Sara." Greg reassured her.
"The kids were seven and three Greg!"
"They're probably on the other side of the wreck with their parents," Catherine offered.
"I'm going to go make sure." Sara declared. She took in a deep breath, preparing to swim under, but Catherine suddenly placed a firm hand on her shoulder, paddling with her other limbs.
"Sara, stop and think,"
"What's there to think about?' Sara shrieked.
"Smell…" Catherine ordered.
Sara blinked. "What…?'
"Smell the air."
Sara stared at Catherine, who stared back. Then she took in one…two sniffs of air and her heart sank.
"Gas," she groaned.
Catherine averted her eyes to the water.
"You can't go in there Sara. The plane could blow up any second."
"But the people—"
"Forget about them Sara. I can't let you go in there after something, find out their not there, and then get blown up before you can get out."
Sara sighed, staring longingly at the plane. Then she dug into her pocket, pulling out the plastic doll digging into her thigh. Kicking her feet harder to stay afloat, she held it out in front of her and gazed at it, nothing but the vision of Lauren floating in her mind. Catherine looked down at it too.
"I remember…there was a little girl on that plane. I remember her from when we were boarding. Cute kid,"
"There's no way she could have made it Catherine. She was only three years old. She wouldn't be able to swim. There's no way."
Catherine bit her lip and turned her face to the airplane.
"Can we cut the sap talk and think about the living people—us—are going to do?" Ecklie snapped.
The two women spun around in the water, Sara stuffing the Barbie back in her pocket.
"Shut up Ecklie," Sara spat, "Tell us when you figure something out."
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, his eyebrows furrowing in indignation.
"I think he has a point Sara…" Greg said meekly.
"Whose side are you on Greg?"
"Who's taking sides? We're stranded in the middle of the Pacific and I think we should think of something to do."
"Greg—"
But suddenly, a sizzling sound reached their ears, and then—
BOOM!
A giant ball of fire exploded, engulfing the airplane in a spinning, curling blaze of smoke and flame. Debris shot in several directions, smoldering at the tips. The CSI's ducked, shielding their faces as hot smoke suffocated them for a moment.
"Ah!" Greg cried. The debris settled down around them, the smoke lifting, though the plane continued to blaze. "I got hit…piece of something sliced my arm."
Sara and Catherine turned to face him. His sleeve was torn from wrist to halfway to elbow, a lengthy cut following its trail, scarlet blood streaming from it slowly. Greg attempted to mop it up with his hand.
"Take off your shirt." Sara ordered.
"Never thought I'd hear that from you Sara…"
"Don't joke with me. Take off your shirt and I'll wrap it around your arm for now. We'll have to find land or something to take care of that properly." She paddled forward and waited for Greg to pull off his white t-shirt and hand it to her. She then began pulling it tighter and tighter across the wound. Blood seeped through it immediately, but at least it would be compressed.
"Now what Cath?" Sara asked, turning back to the woman. Catherine was hovering slowly in the water, staring in concentration.
"Cath?"
"Shh…"
"What?"
"Listen…"
Sara went quiet, treading water as slowly as possible, leaning backwards slightly to take some pressure off her worn out legs. She heard something…faint, in the distance.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Somebody's calling for help." Catherine replied.
"Who?"
Sara strained her ears, but couldn't determine who was calling.
"Somebody young."
Sara's heart skipped a beat and her jaw dropped. Could it be? One or both of the kids were alive? Maybe their parents too?
Then suddenly, Catherine took off swimming as hard as she could around the flaming plane. Sara followed once she realized that the noise was not from the plane, but beyond the plane. So they had survived. Greg followed her, leaving Ecklie treading water on the other side of the plane.
Catherine breaststroked her way forward, around the plane, Sara following, and Greg tagging after her. She rounded a corner and then glimpsed something that kicked her mothering instincts into overdrive.
One floating airplane seat cushion bobbed half-underneath water, half-above, a little boy kicking as hard as he could, one arm wrapped tightly around his younger sister's waist, attempting to hold her above the water. The other was holding the makeshift floatation device, which his sister was also desperately clinging onto.
As soon as Catherine spotted them, her heart skipped a beat, and she dove forward, custom swimming her way along. Both of the children were sobbing hysterically. The boy was spitting out water as he bobbed under and back in a constant battle to stay above with the weight of his sister. Catherine scooped the crying girl up in her arms, then pulled the boy further onto the seat cushion so he could rest.
"Lauren!" Sara cried, coming around the corner and spotting Catherine struggling with the two children. Sara swam forward, Greg still following. Catherine leaned back to a floating position, holding Lauren up as best she could. Her arms were tiring already, as well as her legs. Lauren was sobbing still, a panicked look on her face, her big brown eyes wide. Her curls were flat against her head, her clothes soaked through. When she spotted Sara, she reached out to her with another loud cry.
"Here, you take her Sara, she wants you," Catherine said breathlessly. Lauren was passed and Catherine then turned her attention to the boy whose eyes were closed and his chest heaving with wild breaths.
"Hey, hey…calm down…calm down a bit…it's all right. We're here." Catherine soothed. She reached out to Matt and combed through his brown hair with her fingers. He sucked up a small pool of water and sat up, coughing harshly.
"Does he have a name?" Catherine asked Sara. She had known Lauren's name after all. Sara told her quietly, attempting to soothe Lauren, whose shoulders were shaking as she too breathed erratically.
"Hey, hey Matt…" Catherine said softly, still trying to calm him. "Hey…I'm Catherine…I was on the plane with you."
Matt opened his chocolate eyes and gazed at Catherine, his tears unrecognized amongst the water.
"My-my d-dad…h-he…went back inside the p-plane t-to get m-my mom. B-but…" He stopped. Catherine knew what he meant.
"It's all right Matt…" Catherine comforted.
"H-How do you know m-my n-name?" he asked, still clinging desperately to the seat.
"Sara…my friend Sara told me your name."
Matt looked over at Sara as she floated with Lauren.
"How did s-she know m-my name?"
Catherine shrugged.
"I spoke to your parents." Sara answered. "You were sleeping."
"Are they all right?" Greg asked from his quiet perch to the right.
"Are you all right?" Catherine questioned Matt. "Physically?"
"What does 'p-physically' mean?"
"On your body, do you have any cuts, scrapes, anything broken?"
Matt shook his head.
"Good,"
"Lauren's fine." Sara declared.
"Hey!"
Once again, Ecklie was making himself heard. He swam clumsily towards them, his suit still on despite the fact it was weighing him down considerably.
"What?" Sara spat.
"These are the kids you were talking about?"
"Yes."
"Hmm…Well now that they're here, can we think of something to do?"
The four adults fell silent while Lauren and Matt sniffled slightly.
"Well," Sara began quietly, "we have a better chance surviving on land than in water."
"One problem—no land!" Ecklie screeched, coming closer still. His head dipped under water then came back up as he struggled to swim properly.
"Not so fast…" Greg mumbled quietly, staring blankly in the opposite direction of the plane's tail.
"What?" Ecklie managed, spraying water from his mouth and kicking hard.
"Look," Greg said. He pointed with his un-bandaged arm towards the blue and dark blue horizon. Barely recognizable was the black silhouette of a small strip of land.
"That's great Sanders, except that island is probably oh…two or three miles away!"
"How are we going to alternate?" Catherine asked, ignoring Ecklie's comments of oppression.
"First things first…" Greg declared, "Matt, how well can you swim?"
"Greg!"
"Well there's only one seat cushion and Lauren's going to need that."
Catherine glanced at him sternly then mumbled,
"If you can swim all right, we need to give this cushion to your sister."
Matt nodded, pushing the seat away from him and treading water. He was better at it than Ecklie.
Catherine handed the floater to Sara, who transferred Lauren from her half-submerged lap to the seat. Lauren gripped its edges instantly as Sara supported the floatation device and Lauren's legs.
"All right…so…how's this going to work," Catherine thought aloud. "One person needs to swim with Lauren and two…or three…" She acknowledged Ecklie with a small nod. "The others will swim out here with Matt and help him when he needs it. Sound like a plan?"
The others nodded.
"Sara, you swim with Lauren first. She knows you already."
Sara agreed.
"All right…Matt you just tell us whenever you need help."
In response, Matt began swimming towards the shadow of the island.
"Greg, is your arm all right?" Catherine asked.
"Yeah, it's fine. Stings 'cause of all the saltwater but it's fine for now."
"Hey, are you guys coming?" Sara asked. She was already on Matt's tail, kicking her feet, her two arms enveloping Lauren, and holding the cushion's sides. Catherine and Greg took off after her, leaving Ecklie alone.
"You'll all be sorry when I get found first!" Ecklie called after their disappearing backs. "And I will! Trust me!" No response. "Hey! Hey, are you listening to me? Hey!" They continued swimming. Ecklie cursed under his breath and glanced around. Nothing but the sounds of the crackling fire to his right and the gentle splash of waves around him could be heard. "Hey! As your boss, I order you to wait up! Hey! Wait!" He began doggy-paddling towards them as best he could, ignoring the fact that his suit was hindering him.