Page 91 of The Most Dangerous Games

Jack begins to swim hard toward Rupert, and toward the light. Conner stays with him, his stroke as powerful as Jack’s, seemingly impervious to just how cold the water is.

He would have made one damn fine Ranger, Jack thinks.

The nearer they get to Rupert, the more daylight there is in the cave, the opening closer than they thought.

When they finally reach Rupert, they see a nasty bruise on his forehead.

“What happened?” Jack says.

Jack is out of breath. So is Conner. They manage to dig their hands into the slippery bank as a way of stopping themselves, at least for now.

“Hit my bonce on the way down,” Rupert says, managing a crooked grin. “But just missed a huge piece of rock that might have finished me.”

Conner scans him, “Think you’re okay to swim?”

Rupert nods quickly, brave for them. “I’m even better at that than playing center middie,” he says.

“Well how about we swim out of here?” Jack says to him. “Now.”

As the boy slides into the water next to Jack and Conner, Jack yells “Wait!” to both of them.

Jack’s brain finally catches up.

Three splashes.

Not two.

Jack whips his head upstream, squinting into the darkness. Conner sees his face and already knows what Jack’s going to say.

“Elena,” Jack says.

He searches.

He has been so caught up in the moment, so fixed on the mission of finding Rupert and saving him, he had forgotten about her.

He sees her now.

Sees the blood on the back of her head. Sees her floating toward them, face down, the only movement the water around her. Her hair spreads in the water like dark seaweed, one arm bumping uselessly against the current.

Jack screams her name and begins swimming toward her, so hard his legs cramp.

But when he gets to her, turns her head just slightly, he knows. Her face is slack. Eyes closed. Mouth open.

He says her name, more quietly this time, knowing there will be no response.

“No,” Jack says, like the word is a rope he can throw.

Even as he gets an arm around her and begins to pull her toward the bank, stroking with his other arm—Jack knows.

He has seen death too many times as an Army Ranger not to know. He hauls her toward the bank, Conner helping, Rupert clinging to Conner’s sleeve and sobbing. They slam Elena onto the muddy rock.

Jack checks for breathing. Nothing. He starts compressions.

Hard.

Fast.

Again.