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The others would benefit from Knox’s commitment to his friend. So be it. At this point, Knox wasn’t going to be picky.
Glancing across the bank, he saw what he’d been looking for and a wave of relief washed over him. Except for one fact. They were going to have to swim across. Knox didn’t swim. He glanced up and around, searching for something else he could use to get across the water. The water was higher than usual. He’d almost missed the arrow tree because of it. The tips stuck out. Barely. He’d been here before.
Could he swim across? The annoying voice in the back of his mind pointed out that he didn’t have much choice. Amy was cold and he needed to get her into dry clothes. The Yanomami resisted the outside world and still fought for their survival and to keep their lands. They’d saved Knox’s life once when he found himself in this jungle, shot, flat on his back.They’d taken him in, fed him, and then released him.
Would they extend their aid to him now? He’d been alone back then, separated from the others in his unit. Mosquitoes had feasted on him until tribe members had rubbed plants leaves on his skin. Other plants healed the swollen bites. Their self-sufficiency against all odds impressed him. They were survivors of one of the harshest environments. On a different level, he could relate.
Knox turned around to face Amy. “Trust me?”
“I’ll say yes for argument’s sake.” Amy’s forehead creased and she cocked her head to one side.
“Swim over there.” He pointed to the opposite bank.
“Seriously?” she asked with a surprising amount of calm in her voice. But then, he remembered she used to swim like a fish in her parent’s backyard pool. Knox, on the other hand, couldn’t be bribed to dunk his head underwater. The closest he came was to sitting on the edge. Even that brought back horrific memories of his dad forcing his head underwater in the tub for the slightest infraction. His old man had been brought up by a strict pastor as a father. Despite cutting ties, Knox’s dad seemed eager to carry on the punishment traditions. Kneeling on grains of rice in the kitchen for hours had topped the list until Knox got old enough for his father to deem a punchingbag. The old man would pass out by eight or nine o’clock every evening, then wake up at the crack of dawn to dole out chores while he sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and barking out orders. Basic training was like a trip to Disneyland compared to the home where Knox grew up.
“Don’t do it,” Lorna warned. “It’s reckless.”
Spite might be the reason Amy looked inclined to tell Lorna to go to hell. Swimming, crossing to the other side would be one sure way to thumb her nose at her friend.
“It’s fine,” Amy said before shocking the hell out of Knox and going for it. The current pushed her downstream farther than he liked.
But now, he had no choice but to push past his own fears and swim.You might not be a FROG but you know how to swim. You can do this. You have to now that Amy is on the other side, exposed.
The mental pep talk was enough to push through. Overthinking would plant him where he stood. So, he didn’t. He took in a deep breath, counted down from five, and then paddled like hell until he touched the opposite bank. Grabbing hold of a vine, he forced a calm he didn’t feel before hoisting himself out of the water.
He’d flown across the river like a bullet, so Amy was a little farther downriver. He stood up and waved the couple across. Lorna looked like she might throwup. Donnie’s head was turned to her, and he was spewing out words that made her tense and shrink. Seeing her being berated—and that was the only explanation—made his fists clench.
Once this was over, he planned to have a talk with Lorna about her options and getting the help she needed. Donnie might not be throwing punches but his mental abuse sickened Knox. All abuse sent white-hot anger through Knox. Anger that he’d spent the better part of his adult life trying to reconcile. Which was the only reason he wouldn’t take Donnie out into the jungle and beat the hell out of the man. Using violence to teach a lesson or punish someone revealed weakness in the abuser.
No way in hell was Knox going to be like his old man.
Lorna shook her head. Amy called to her friend, who took a step away from Donnie. That was the first good sign Knox had seen so far that she might listen to reason. The best thing to do with an asshole like Donnie was bleed him out. Give him zero attention. His ego wanted to be the center. To hell with that. Remove oxygen and the fire dies out. Path of least resistance and it had the unexpected benefit of annoying the recipient.
Win-win.
“Just swim to me, Lorna,” Amy called out. “Keep your eyes on me. I’m right here.”
Lorna nodded and then made her move. Something must have brushed against her leg halfway across because she literally caught fire. Lorna made it to Amy, who held tight to a vine as she leaned into the water.
A splash, both women’s heads dipping under water, had Knox gunning toward them as fast as his legs could carry him. Where were they? Where’d they go? Swept away in the current?
Donnie shouted. Damn him for drawing attention they didn’t need right now.
Without overthinking, Knox went in after Amy and Lorna at the spot where they disappeared. By the time he made it, their heads popped up fifteen feet downriver, maybe twenty.Shit.
Determination kicked in. Knox sliced arms through the water, pushing hard, kicking like a wild. Water chugged up his nose, causing him to cough. There was no time to stop. Lorna and Amy were struggling with something.
Anaconda?
Shit.That wouldn’t be welcomed news. Arms flailing, heads dunking, the ladies were being carried farther downriver. He needed to pick up the pace. Swimming until his arms went numb, he reached them as both went under. Pulling them up caused his head to dunk. Water was everywhere, ears, eyes, nose. Throat.
Knox broke the surface long enough to take a deep breath. He could only hold his breath for roughly a minute and a half. That had been his record when he’d tried to push past his fear of drowning. He couldn’t say the attempts worked, but he could swim when there was no other choice. Not that it was easy. Turned out, some fears were buried so deep it was next to impossible to reach them.
Amy eased into his grasp, whereas Lorna was in complete panic mode. She flailed. Her fingers struggled for purchase, grabbing anything and everything, including his hair. At this rate, she was going to force him below the water’s surface and drown him.
Panic gripped him as he felt the ability to hold in air slip out of his grasp. Take in a breath down here and it was all over. Then again, he wouldn’t take a breath. His brain would fight against the idea long enough to pass out. Then, he’d take in a breath and drown.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
