Chapter 21 - Water Rescue
After lunch, we were to report to the obstacle course in an obvious attempt to make D-squad's cadets look even more out of shape and stupid than the self-defense session had.
Interestingly, the last two people to arrive to the obstacle course were our instructors, Lieutenant Harris and Captain Callahan, who were walking together yet clearly bickering about something.
"I cannot believe what I'm hearing," Callahan muttered, grimacing as Harris rolled his eyes.
"So honesty's not the best policy after all?" Harris replied, looking amused.
"Honesty!?" she snapped. "Since when do you concern yourself with that?"
As soon as they realized we all were standing waiting for them, they stopped their tense verbal exchange but both still looked angry as hell.
I could not help but wonder what that was about. Eventually Lassard would retire, or perhaps even die, and someone would have to replace him. Surely Captain Callahan could see that just because Lassard had changed his mind for now, it did not mean it would be that way forever. I was surprised she was showing her emotions so obviously, when it had previously been Harris who'd done that on a daily basis!
Had Harris actually turned Callahan in for messing around with cadets? Was that what they were arguing about? I couldn't help but wonder, but I was in no position to find out anymore.
Harris took his place by the obstacle course, looking pleased with himself.
"Since we now are slightly above capacity, we will stagger each group's entry to the course," Harris explained. In his good hand, he held his baton, swinging it around sharply. "If you fall behind in some way or can't complete an obstacle, it is strongly recommended that you get the hell out of the way and watch your chances at being a cop sink with every A-squad cadet who passes you by."
"That's quite enough, Lieutenant," Callahan huffed, pulling her sunglasses off. Immediately Harris spun around, seeming to square off with her.
"I'll bet you get off on callin' me that, don't you?" he shot back, not caring that twenty-odd cadets were hearing their exchange.
"Calling you what? Lieutenant?" she retorted. She put her sunglasses back on and crossed her arms. "I think Sergeant would be more appropriate, in fact."
The silence that followed was icy, and extremely uncomfortable. It hung thick in the air.
"I don't got time for this," Harris growled, and immediately turned away from Callahan and the course, walking straight back toward the academy.
Everyone was startled into silence. Callahan's expression couldn't be seen behind her sunglasses, but she had nothing else to add. She did not follow Harris, and said nothing else about it. This awkward as hell silence continued for what seemed like a whole minute and then finally Callahan got her bearings.
"Line up at the start, 3 at a time!" she said. "Every minute a new group of three goes! You know how this works." There was a hesitation, then she roared suddenly, making us all startle. "Go!"
And they were off. I hung back, watching the cadets from A squad take their positions first. Brookstone was the first of D squad to mingle amongst the men of A squad, and took her place next to Stetson. I ended up running in one of the last heats, next to Mullers and Stiner. It worked out quite well, in fact.
The cadets from A squad would have lapped us if they could have. I could practically see Johnson, Stetson, and some other buff guy who seemed to have hair poking out of his t-shirt from all directions complete the course as I was finishing the second obstacle. The sole female member from A squad avoided running with the men from her squadron—of course she was probably some neo-feminist steroid machine, the muscles in her legs and arms putting Harris's to shame. I was so winded, I couldn't say much to my friends except some passing comment about how hot it was. I'd have to tell them about Tackleberry sometime, rather than having Brookstone announce it to everyone, along with how many A-squad cadets she'd seduced.
I was slower than both Mullers and Stiner, but I was able to finish the obstacle course. We walked back towards the academy for a shower and then dinner, covered in sweat and stinking badly. Another day of this under my belt with even less awkwardness than yesterday. And now I had some eye candy to keep me going these next several weeks.
I didn't see Lieutenant Harris near the showers or in the mess hall—in fact, it wasn't until the following day that he made an appearance. We'd all lined up in formation in the lawn outside the academy and were told we'd be working in the pool on water rescues today. Lieutenant Harris and Captain Callahan did not so much as acknowledge the existence of the other, adding to the strangeness of his absence following the obstacle course yesterday. She wore her red sweat suit and he wore his black police uniform as usual—both of them would be baking today in the hot sun at the pool
Ugh, I hated the pool. Not only was I a barely passable swimmer, but I didn't want to wear my bathing suit in front of Harris or these new guys. I glanced over at Brookstone, wondering if the heavy eye makeup she applied every day would run—I smiled to myself, hoping it made her look like Marilyn Manson.
"We will reconvene at the pool at 0730 hours," Callahan announced. "Be dressed and ready. At ease."
I rolled my eyes as we broke formation to get dressed and report to the pool. Ugh. I was not in the mood to parade my thighs around.
I strode back towards the pool in my t-shirt and shorts, my bathing suit underneath. Under one arm I carried my towel. It felt odd to be alone again—I'd gotten used to anticipating seeing Harris and now I dreaded the grimaces and the tension that oozed from him every minute. Right now I dreaded these exercises more than anything else. The squadron had done these drills twice before, and I'd missed doing it the first time. I still had no idea how I'd managed to rescue the dummy once before, with the total lack of confidence I felt now.
I could see Lieutenant Harris, still in police uniform, watching me out of the corner of his eye as we were instructed to remove our t-shirts and coverings and wait our turn for the water rescue. I immediately looked away from him, keeping my eyes on the very well-built cadets of A squad. Man, they were in a different league entirely.
"You're next, Carnegie," Callahan growled behind her sunglasses. I was shocked by the sound of my name, and must have made a face. She held her stopwatch tightly, her thumb lingering over the button expectantly. "Come on—get the lead out of it."
"Can I go a bit later?" I began, making a sheepish face as I stood at the edge of the deep end. I guess I shouldn't have zoned out so badly watching the A-squad men jumping in the water with the floaty tubes, to pull the heavy bags up to the surface. The pressure was so high to perform well for these men, these men who could very well be husband-material, even. I peered into the depths. My dummy was at the bottom of the pool, at least 8 feet down, and I recalled them being heavy as hell, even in the water. How was this beanbag even relevant to a person? I thought people naturally floated—wasn't it true that by the time their bodies sank, they were beyond saving?
"This is in fact the third water rescue our squadron has done," she snapped back. "And you've been here since the beginning."
I was still not ready. "Can I watch a few more—"
"Go!" Callahan shouted, the veins in her neck standing out.
At her sudden scream, I hastily jumped into the water, not even taking a breath before doing so. I kicked my legs in a scissor-like way in an attempt to try to sink to the bottom faster, but before I could get even halfway down to the bottom in the deep end of the pool, I could sense I was running out of air. Then I'd realized I'd jumped in without grabbing the floatation tube that had been on the deck next to me. Shit shit shit
Panic set in and I looked up, the surface of the water looking so far away. Bubbles escaped my mouth as I started kicking in a panic again, trying desperately to get to the surface before being forced to breathe. How could I have been so stupid as to not take any kind of deep breath before Captain Callahan startled me into jumping in? I must have looked like a crazed idiot, wanting to scream for help but being stuck under water with no way to escape but an uncoordinated kicking and clawing at water that was getting me nowhere fast.
My lungs felt like they were on fire and I knew a deadly breath was coming soon. My own body was failing me. I was going to die here, in the damn pool of a police academy with everyone watching me do so. What a total embarrassment to humanity I was.
My traitorous body did it; it took a breath of water! The water entered my mouth, my throat, my lungs—I stopped moving. I was heavy now, heavy and sinking, one with the beanbag. I guess I was wrong about human bodies floating at first. Before I could even shut my wide-opened eyes, my world went black.
I regained consciousness to the feeling of a pair of lips on mine, the tickle of leg hair against my own bare legs. I was rolled over onto my side and began to puke water, my eyes shut so tightly that I could see stars and cube-like shapes floating around. At this point, I wasn't sure if I was really alive or in some kind of transitory life-death stage.
I felt like I'd coughed out water for a lifetime, and finally decided to try to open my eyes. It was a sunny, cloudless day and the light blinded me. I reached out and seemed to touch my rescuer, who was clearly male by his state of dress and the amount of hair on his chest. I squinted painfully, my head swimming, and saw that it was one of the cadets from A squad.
"Are you alright?" he quietly asked me, and I could see now that he was not the only one close by. I could vaguely make out Callahan's red sweatsuit and the shiny metallic things on Harris's police uniform, as they seemed to be half-squatting on the cement walkway nearby. Cadets from both squadrons had formed a circle around me.
"I guess," I choked out, immediately starting to cough at my first use of my almost-drowned voice box.
The cadet who saved me was as of yet unrecognizable to my blurry, chlorine-soaked eyes, and yet he didn't seem disgusted at having to revive me, or at the fact that I had puked out more than just water next to my head, by the smell of it.
"Can you tell me your name?" he asked me, and suddenly it felt like everyone around and behind him was fading into nonexistence. I was able to recognize his features now. It was Stetson who had rescued me!
"April," I murmured weakly. "Carnegie."
I must have looked expectantly at him, though I did know who he was.
"The name's Conrad," he replied with a sweet smile. "Conrad Stetson. I'm glad you're alright."
"She is not alright!" a sudden shrill voice cut in. "She's not out of the water yet!"
My eyes moved to the voice to see that Harris had spoken up and was now standing up. I could make out his features now—sweat was dripping down his face, his eyes were wide and mouth pulled into an extreme grimace. Now, what the hell was that supposed to mean? I was most definitely out of the water. Had he gone nuts?
"I agree. She needs to see a doctor," Captain Callahan added, nodding up at Harris. I was extremely annoyed by her presence. Why hadn't she rescued me? Had she thought I was playing some kind of game?
"I can bring her," Conrad said, looking up at Callahan and Harris. "I have a car on campus."
I smiled in spite of myself. What was making this very handsome man so willing to help me, to potentially ruin his upholstery with my wet body? I felt super light-headed. Was I swooning?
"You should bring her, Lieutenant," Callahan interjected. "You'd be useless here with your arm if someone else would need rescuing."
I could see him glare at her in reply. Why was he glaring, because he would be forced to help me?
"What about you, Callahan?" he retorted. "I didn't see you jumpin' in the water to save her. Water rescue, my ass."
Callahan's face had turned a definite shade of red. In the meantime, I had stopped coughing, my eyelashes fluttering now, Conrad's strong arms supporting my body. Maybe I could stay here with Conrad forever, being cradled in his arms. Never before had such a male specimen paid me any attention. Was this some kind of heaven?
"I thought she was joking around, being as she didn't even grab her float tube," Callahan replied, much less confident of herself now. She peered down at me, lowering her sunglasses. "I'm truly sorry, Carnegie."
"Don't give me that," Harris shot back. "You were distracted, simple as that."
I could see her subtly shake her head, as if disappointed in… herself? Harris? I couldn't be sure.
"Alright," Callahan sighed. "You, Stetson," she called out, referring to my rescuer by his last name, "you can take Carnegie."
I smiled up at him dreamily. My luck was finally changing.
"…Though you do make a good point," Harris interrupted, stepping between Captain Callahan and my rescuer. "You're right, Callahan; I can't swim with one arm. And there are liability issues if he drives her. I'll take her." He turned to me then from his standing position, eyeing me warily. "Alright, Carnegie," Harris grumbled, gesturing with his baton. "Get up."
I flashed him a look of annoyance from my position on cloud nine. I had literally just been saved from dying—did he really think I could pull myself onto my feet right now?
Just then Conrad repositioned his arms around my body, gently bringing me to a seated position.
"Let me walk April to your car," he offered, lifting my arm over his shoulder and carefully raising me to a standing position. My legs felt weak and rubbery, my feet like cement. It was as if my body was finished listening to me. Not only that, but my heart was pumping so fast and hard that I could hear it in my ears. Harris was right, I wasn't out of the water yet. This was some truly scary shit.
"Fine," Harris muttered, and he hastily walked off in the direction of the parking lot, with Conrad helping me to move much more slowly in the same general direction, after thoughtfully wrapping a towel around me. I wondered what Brookstone was thinking now. She was probably standing there gaping at us with jealousy, wishing she'd had been the one who'd almost drowned. I was sure I'd get some snarky remarks from her the moment I returned to campus. I took a deep breath and began to cough uncontrollably.
If I returned to campus, that is.
