The naked edge

3

The river was cold. Gritty. Greasy. Submerged in the weight of the muddy water, Carl heard the muffled vibrations of engines. He kept kicking with his heavy shoes, in too great a hurry to take the time to stop his momentum, unlace them, and push them off. He had no doubt that Aaron was close behind him, possibly already in the water, thrusting after him. Kick! he ordered himself. Claw at the water! Swim harder! Faster! After chasing Raoul, killing him, and rushing to get away from Aaron, Carl felt that his lungs were strained to their capacity. His chest ached with the desperate need to take in oxygen.

No! I won't give up! I won't let Aaron win!

He swept his arms with greater determination, surging through the mucky water, feeling the current add to his momentum. Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, he mentally counted. He had to swim as far and fast as possible. Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two. His mind spun. Even with his eyes closed, he saw swirling spots. Seventy-one. I once swam underwater for a minute and forty-five seconds, he reminded himself. Aaron saw me do it. He knows how strong I am, how far I can…

Carl's body took control of his mind. No matter how fiercely he willed his lungs not to do it, they insisted on inhaling.

Frantic, the vibrations around him even louder, he propelled himself upward, taking in water, coughing as he broke the surface. A barge sped close, threatening to strike him. Instantly, he took a breath and dove, kicking, aiming toward the opposite shore. He had to surface one more time, breathe, and submerge again. Then his sweeping arms touched silt, and he raised his head slightly from the river, blinking filthy water from his eyes, wanting to cheer when he saw boats against the shore. A wharf. See, Aaron, I can still do it!

But there were too many people on the shore, too many chances of being noticed. Word of the attack in the downtown area would travel fast. A man seen crawling from the river would attract so much attention that the police would be alerted. They might corner him before he could find a hiding place. Better to stay where he was, under the dock, behind its pilings, close to the shore, where no one would notice him. A helicopter thundered overhead. A Coast Guard boat roared past. He held his breath and slipped underwater.