He saw it happen. And he felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as it did. His eyes widened, his body frozen in place.
People always say that when these things happen, it goes in slow-motion. As if time slows down, and tunnel vision prevents you from hearing or seeing anything else. Hunter could attest to the fact that it was nothing of the sort.
It all happened within a split second.
It was hard not to miss. The jutting cliffs stood eerily still, the trees mirroring their silence. The only movement ahead was of her body hurtling off the side of the cliff. It happened fast, like a train careening down the railways, burning its steam engine to alert passengers of oncoming danger.
Within a blink of an eye, she was gone. He didn’t even hear the splash; the waves simply swallowed her whole like a tasty offering to the sea gods, relishing in the meaty meal. It happened within a split second, his body completely paralyzed in place, of no use or service in the speedboat he was in.
“Hunter!”
The voice of Officer Deanne broke him out of his stance, and he turned to see her handing him their radio transmitter. “You need to call it. Up above. I’ll jump in.”
The speedboat careened around the spot where the waves has engulfed her whole. His mind was racing. His couldn’t feel his skin, his heart felt like it had stopped pounding. Time continuum had seemed to stop entirely. He felt paralyzed. Officer Deanne was stripping off her jacket, and uniform.
“Hunter!” Another voice called and the ringing in his ears started to give way to sound. The sound of the boat’s engine, the whistling wind, the crushing of the waves against the rocks. Officer Nate was standing behind him, “call it in.”
He could feel his chest shaking with rage, or fear or maybe an even mixture of both. The fog lifted. His jaw clenched in stress, the teachings of how to respond in emergency situations trickling back into his stream of thought. He clicked on the radio, “back-up required, two suspects on the run. Last seen at 54°39'43.4"N 56°46'35.7"W. We are looking for Clayton, and Det. Jackson,” if he could kill right now, he would. “Arrest upon capture. Both are suspects for murder, and kidnapping. Take them into custody.
There was static before a short response came over the radio, “received, Sheriff. On it.”
“Stall the boat!” Office Deanne called out, the spray of the jutting waves washing onto the stern. The sea captain immediately killed the engine. “She went down here.”
“We need to take turns,” Nathaniel was right there with her, undressing just as she was. “Sheriff?”
The two looked at him expectantly, and he tried to shake off the shock. Emma had been thrown at least forty feet off a cliff and had disappeared into the Labrador Sea. His mind finally snapped into action. He shouted above the winds, which were whistling around them at fifty kilometers an hour. “No longer than thirty seconds underwater, come up and change. You need to swim against the riptide, we’ll pull up once your time is up. Captain?”
“We can use the anchor,” he locked the engine in place, and quickly handed them the end of the rope, untied from the metal anchor. Officer Deanne, now in her bare underwear, tied the rope around her waist and without further ado, jumped in headfirst.
Hunter started the timer, his heart hammering in his ear. He changed the channel on the radio transmitter and alerted the medics. “911. This is Sheriff Stone, we need emergency evacuation services for a drowning victim near 54°39'43.4"N 56°46'35.7"W-.”
The response came fast, “E-Vac on route. Coming from Newcastle. ETA is ten-fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes. Shit. That would be too long.
“Nathan – are you ready?” Hunter was pacing the stern, staring at the spot where Deanne had disappeared under the water. It was freezing, the iciness of the sea hurting their lungs, but they barely noticed.
“Ready.”
The thirty seconds was up. Hunter tugged on the rope, and Deanne emerged moments later. His heart dropped when he noticed she came up alone.
“No sight of her,” Deanne’s teeth were chattering as Hunter and Nathan pulled her up. “Riptide is too strong to go anywhere,” She slid onto the bottom of the boat, her entire body trembling from the freezing waters. Nathan pulled the rope off from her and tied it onto his waist.
“Go,” Hunter commanded as he wrapped her up in aluminum sheet the Captain brought over from the deck.
Nathan jumped in, the rope slithering off the side of the boat as it followed him into the water. A large swell of water gulped him down, and Hunter watched with bated breath as he disappeared down into the water.
He needed to find to her. It wasn’t an option. The water was below freezing. Nobody would be able to survive in that water for long and would die from the shock of the temperature and the subsequent hypothermia well before the lungs filled up with water. She had already been under for over a minute, and every second that passed was a second wasted.
“Thirty!” The captain called out, and Hunter nodded, pulling on the rope.
He couldn’t lose her. Those were the only words he could think of. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.
His stomach dropped when Nathan breached the surface, alone. “Fuck.”
“It’s impossible to s-swim,” Nathan’s teeth were chattering as he swam to the stern, “the riptide keeps pulling me to the cliffs.”
Hunter didn’t think. Pulling off his jacket, he stripped his hat and gloves and dove headfirst into the freezing water. He could hear both Nathan and Deanne call out after him, yelling at him to tie himself to the rope, but he didn’t care.
He hit the water like a ton of bricks, the force of it all feeling like slamming into cement head on. His body immediately locked into place in response to the sub-freezing temperature, and it felt like he had signed away his life to the devil’s cold whisper. The riptide immediately caught him, and he allowed his body to swim with it. If nobody had been able to swim against it, chances are Emma wouldn’t have been able to either.
The blackness that surrounded him felt like an overwhelmingly all-encompassing solitude. Despite the light of the sun breaking through the surface of the sea, he could barely see one foot ahead as he swam with the push of the tide careening him along. His skin already felt numb from the frosty waters, but he moved his moaning muscles to kick further and faster. Keeping his eyes open as wide as they would go, he searched as far as his eyes would let him.
The nothingness seemed to stretch on for miles.
He swam to the surface, breaking the surface for a second to swallow a shuddering gasp.
And then he was under once again.
She had to be here. There was no way she would have gotten far.
He needed to find her.
He fought against the fear that threatened to engulf him and swam further west. The pull of the riptide began to weaken, and he felt himself break free from the angry tide at last.
And that’s when he saw her.
Floating as if in mid-air, her hair spilled out around her like an ethereal goddess, her arms floating out beside her, her face relaxed, her eyes peacefully shut. She was naked waist up, and her pale body seemed to absorb the light reaching the waters below. She appeared enchanted, as if transfixed in mid-air, floating in the water as if in a dream.
The sight terrified him.
He grabbed her by the waist and kicked up, her body limp and lifeless in his arms.
He had barely broken the surface when a wave crashed down on him and he felt the two of them go under again. The swell of the wave pushed him down a few feet and he kicked hard against the water to reach the surface again.
This time, he waved a hand as he surfaced, trying to see how far the tide had pulled him from the boat.
He could barely see it, it was twenty to thirty feet away at least.
This time, he stayed abreast the water, pulling Emma’s back tightly against his chest as he tried to kick back against the waves. He needed to stay with the waves and not get pushed under to get caught in the tide, otherwise not only would Emma drown, but he would too.
His breath was coming out in white puffs in front of him, and the dark blue water around him seemed to swell up to his shoulders, but he continued to kick and stay afloat with one hand paddling and the other tightly gripping Emma.
He heard the boat before he saw it. A splash of water drowned him momentarily, but then two pairs of hands came down to hoist him up next. He felt someone grab Emma from him as he tumbled over the stern onto the deck, his entire body trembling.
Teeth chattering, muscles aching, bones shivering, he crawled over and immediately began to administer CPR. He could feel Nathan and Deanne bustling around him, wrapping the two of them in aluminum foil.
Her lips were blue, her skin splotchy and purple. He fought against the dread pooling inside of him. Opening her mouth, he blew into her. His brain was on auto-pilot. Five rescue breaths, 30 chest compressions, two rescue breaths, chest compressions, rescue breaths, chest compressions…
The sound of the helicopter felt like a salve to a burning, gashing wound. He didn’t lose focus, his own body aching and shaking from the tempestuous winds, but his mind as sharp as steel. Rescue breaths, chest compressions, rescue breaths, chest compressions…
The paramedics dropped onto the boat, and he let go of her then, letting them take over. “She’s still not breathing,” he heard himself say. His anguished voice sounded foreign to himself. “Why isn’t she breathing?”
“They’ve got her now,” Deanne pulled Hunter back, “give them space.”
Hunter held back his frustration, wanting to punch a hole in a wall – any wall. This was his fault. He had let this happen.
“How long underwater?” one of the medics shouted above the sound of the copter as they hoisted her into the stretcher, a second paramedic continuing the CPR as they began to prepare her for the hoist into the medic’s rig.
“Two minutes,” Hunter responded, unable to tear his eyes away from her pale, lifeless face. “Maybe longer, I don’t know. I don’t know how long I was under…”
He stood back as they fastened the stretcher to a series of ropes and levers, and at the wave of a hand, the helicopter began to pull her up. Her body swung in the air, firmly bundled in orange, and red blankets.
“You’ve done everything you could, Sheriff.” He heard Deanne say from behind him. “It’s up to her now.”
Hunter clenched his jaw as he watched the helicopter ascend, keeping his doubts to himself. Why did he feel as if he’d failed her?
And that if he lost her, he would never be able to forgive himself.
x.x
God, she hated Toronto. It was permanently freezing in the wintertime, and wherever you turned, you were trapped in the freezing cold. Move down south, nope – too close to Lake Ontario, you’re gonna be cold. Move up north, nope, the temperature drops due to the arctic circle. Move anywhere else, you’re probably going to be facing wind tunnels whilst being trapped between concrete skyrises and houses that are surprisingly still standing despite being over a hundred years old.
It was especially cold today. She was sitting in a café on Toronto Island, sipping on a frothy latte, staring at the waves lap leisurely at the sandy shore.
Wait.
She blinked.
Scratch that. Not sandy shore. Snowy shore. It had been snowing for the past few hours and she’d been perched up in the café, eating a scone with clotted cream and jam, while listening to 60s jazz that was playing quietly from the café radio.
Emma couldn’t quite recall how she’d gotten to the island, or back to Toronto for that matter. But it felt right, and she was remarkably calm about not knowing how she’d gotten here. She was perfectly content with lazing about and doodling in her notebook.
If only they would turn the heat on.
She felt dreadfully cold, almost as if her nerves had been seared off with ice cubes. Sitting there, she realized it was probably because she had no shoes on, and wasn’t wearing a sweater to add. Despite being cold, she wasn’t shivering. She was simply aware that she was cold.
Huh.
Strange.
Looking around the café, for the first time in what felt like hours, she realized she didn’t recognize anyone in the coffee shop. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure they were even human. The barista had antennae that were poking through the hat he was wearing, and the lady sipping an espresso by the window had three eyes and a snout.
What the fuck.
She rubbed her eyes, her emotions not relaying the confusion she felt in her head. Her body felt at peace, as if fine with the freezing cold, alien monsters, and her unexpected arrival on the island.
Feeling a rush of iciness run through her, she shivered and decided to finally do something about it. God knew how long she’d been sitting at this café, and it was time she found…
She couldn’t quite remember his name. But she knew she wanted to find him. And tell him something.
Tell him what though?
There was something important she had to say to this man, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was that she had to say or who she had to say it to. All she knew was that it was important she told him.
Without any shoes on, and with no sweater to match, she stepped outside the café and instead of finding herself on the island, she found herself staring at a vast snowy tundra.
Well, that’s strange, she mused to herself as she began to sift through the snow. The expansiveness of the snowy plains reminded her of a scene from the Arctic, of images that she’d seen in National Geographic and nature television shows. She could see some jutting mountains in the far north but couldn’t see much else beyond that. The skies were clear up overhead, and aside from the snow on the ground, there wasn’t anything else in her line of sight.
She started walking, knowing if she kept going in this general direction, she was bound to find this one person she had to say this one thing to.
Emma didn’t know how much time had passed, nor did she really care, but after what felt like quite a long time, she saw a small hut in the distance. A yurt. She’d never seen one before but was sure that’s what it was, from its circular shape and the long protruding chimney.
Thank fucking God, she sighed in relief. Maybe she’d find some warmth in there. There was smoke coming out from the funnel on top, and she could see some light coming from inside.
Once she reached the canvas, she didn’t know what to do. Should she just step in? Knock?
It’s as if her presence was expected. The canvas of the yurt swept to the side and she found herself staring at a vaguely familiar face.
“Dad?” she asked confusedly. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade, but it looked as if he hadn’t aged a day.
“My sweetheart,” he smiled, and immediately brought her in for a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“What are you doing all the way out here?” She asked, still feeling confused. She returned the hug. It felt nice. “It’s fucking freezing.”
“I’ve always wanted to live in the south pole!”
“South pole?” Emma looked around and realized she couldn’t see the café she’d walked from, or the island for that matter. They’d disappeared from her line of sight. “I guess that would be a cool place to live.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” he bustled her in, letting the canvas of the yurt drop to a close behind them. A pot of some type of stew was simmering over the fire, and the place was littered of photos of her family, and of various paraphernalia. “The neighbors are polar bears, eh?”
“Hm,” she said, and sat down on an armchair, starting to feel some type of emotion unfurl from within her.
She wasn’t sure what it was, but as she sat there, it began to seep into her chest and arms and legs. It was only when she was crying full sobs that she realized that it was sadness.
“Oh, darling Emma, why are you crying?”
She didn’t know why either, but the tears were running down her cheeks. “I’ve made such a mess.”
Her father pulled a chair up beside her and sat. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t remember,” and she truly couldn’t, “but everything feels like a complete mess. And something feels wrong. And I need to tell someone something, but I can’t remember who, and what I have to say.”
“That’s alright,” he pulled her into a hug, and she took comfort in the smell of her dad. He always smelled the same. Cedarwood and basil. “People make mistakes all the time. You have to forgive yourself.”
“Have you forgiven yourself?” she asked, leaning back to look him in the eye, “you made mom leave. You lost your family. For fuck’s sake, you’re living in the south pole in a fucking yurt with polar bears now.”
He smiled sadly, “but that’s life. In a perfect world, your mum and I would have stayed together. I wouldn’t have been depressed and an addict. Sometimes the demons in our head get the better of us, but we shouldn’t let them win. And they win if we stay angry. Stories of happy families, perfect lives, and happy endings only exist in storybooks. It’s finding out how to be happy with our own story which is the real challenge in life. I loved your mom and you with all my heart and that’s all that matters. I hear your mother is in the amazon forest now, living with the wolves. Suits her quite well, in my opinion.”
Emma laughed through the tears, wishing she could rewind time and stop all the bad things in her life from happening. “Do you guys talk?”
“Sometimes. She sent me a coconut a while ago, saying I was welcome to join her if I ever got sick of the snow. But my heart is in the snow. I love it here.”
Emma groaned, “ugh, why? It’s so cold.”
“You need to fight through the cold,” he got up then and brought her a pair of shoes. “For one, wear these.”
“Thanks,” she sniffled, and started to pull the boots on her ankles. “Can I stay here? I’m not really sure how to get home. Or where home is for that matter.”
“You can’t stay here, Emma.”
She looked up at him angrily, “you’re kicking me out?”
He frowned at her, “Emma, it’s too soon for you. Don’t you have to tell someone something?”
“But I can’t even remember who or what that is.”
“Then keep on walking until you do.”
“But it’s so cold outside.”
“Well, at least you have shoes now.”
She looked down at her feet, realizing that they did feel a tiny bit warmer, and she wasn’t freezing anymore. “I guess you’re right.”
“Well, carry on then,” he gave her a backpack, and then shuffled her to the door, “I don’t want to see you for a while, not for a few dozen years at least.”
“Thanks, dad,” she rolled her eyes and then went back out into the arctic tundra. The sun was shining a bit brighter, but she was still freezing cold. “What direction -.” She turned around only to see that the yurt had disappeared. “Strange…” she murmured to herself. She shrugged her shoulders once, and then started walking.
x.x
45 Days Later - April
“Hey, Sheriff.”
“Any change?”
“None this morning,” the nurse smiled up at him as she handed over the check-in chart, a little blush in her cheeks signaling that she was quite shy in Hunter’s presence.
Hunter picked up the Visitor’s badge and made his daily trudge down the ICU corridor, the linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting a familiar and now, a comforting addition to his daily routine. He never thought he would ever be in this position, or that he would ever be compelled to visit someone every day in the hospital – yet here he was, and all rationale behind his behavior escaped him.
He turned the familiar corner and walked to the end of the hallway where her room was, a new set of balloons decorating the doorway. Sarah was waiting for him in the hospital room, sipping a cup of coffee as he walked in. She smiled as she saw him.
The two had gotten to know each other pretty well in the past few months. “How was work?”
“You know,” he sighed, setting his bag on the ground. “Larry’s convinced that the farm on Churchville is poisoning his crops. Had to check that out.”
“Oh, Larry – as in Larry’s Dairy?”
“That’s the one.”
“Jeez, life doesn’t stop around here,” Sarah snorted. She was meant to stay here only for a week, grab her best friend and then return to Toronto. Now it was spring-time, and she was still here. She hadn’t had a choice. She wouldn’t leave without Emma. “I’m sure the spring brings a whole slew of new adventures.”
“You can’t imagine,” Hunter rolled his eyes and sat down on the chair next to Emma’s bed.
The beeping of the ventilator was a familiar sound that rang through the room day-round. Emma’s oxygen tanks hissed with every inhale and exhale, the mask on her face fogging with every breath she took. It had been forty-five days since the incident, a whole forty-five god damn days and she was still under her medically induced coma.
She had suffered severe sepsis after responding from CPR, and the doctors were worried that the hypothermia had caused brain damage. Despite being in the age of modern medicine, where it felt like fucking anything was possible – the only option they could follow was the one that was the most torturous. To wait. Literally wait.
Her body would be allowed to heal, and she would either wake up or not. Had Sarah not spotted Jackson and Clayton with Emma from the lighthouse tower when she did, it would have probably been too late. As it stood, she’d been teetering on the verge of death when they’d found her.
It had been sixty god damn days and they had felt like the most agonizingly painful of his life. He hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d lost his appetite. He’d visited every day. Whether it was in the morning before work, in the evening after work, or overnight when he felt like he wasn’t able to leave her there, all alone in the hospital. Sarah had forced him to go from time to time, saying he needed to rest and shower. He’d listened, sometimes, begrudgingly so but he’d let himself stress regardless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shaved his beard or gotten a haircut. Sarah had called him a grizzly bear the other week, and she was right. Although she had no right to call him out on being over-worried. She had been here every day too, as had a dozen others.
Kat had been here every week, along with Nick from the pub. Flowers had poured in from apologetic townsmen, who had been cruel and mean to her. News of the incident had reached the media, and the story had gone national. Friends from back home in Toronto had written letters, sent bears, roses, and gifts. His four-year-old niece, Molly, had drawn pictures for her to get better… which included random anecdotes of warrior princesses overcoming dragons. For someone who had always stated she felt alone in the world, her room was filled with tokens of warmth and love from dozens of people from around Canada. In addition to that, everyone was fascinated and obsessed about the ‘good cop turned bad,’ and why he’d set out to hunt a young twenty-something girl. The trial date had yet to be decided, and it was then that it would come out that it was all over a god damn lighthouse. Emma’s face had been plastered all news channels and shows like Crimewatch daily, Serial Hunters, and what not. It was ridiculous.
She’d lost weight in the month that she’d been under, and her body looked frail and weak against the white sheets of the hospital bed. Sarah had been adamant about doing her nails to keep her ‘spirit’ motivated, so her fingers were adorned with rainbow colored polish, and her dark hair gleamed against the pillow.
It killed him seeing her like this. He’d never be able to forget the chilling image of her in the water. It haunted him in his dreams. He’d gone over that day over, and over again.
Why had it taken him so long to realize she was missing?
If he’d realized earlier, would she have been saved from all of this? Would he have been able to find her?
Why hadn’t he realized that Jackson was fucking scumbag? A walking piece of low-life, that deserved to be royally…
He trailed off, knowing that the path this tunnel led was a dangerous one. He’d gone over the scenario a million times in his head and was never able to come to any positive catharsis. He hadn’t spoken to Jackson yet, and had let his officers handle his arrest. He was worried if he saw the detective, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
“Yo, did you see that?”
He looked up at Sarah, disrupting his pontification, “See what?”
“She furrowed her eyebrows,” Sarah was staring down at Emma, her own eyebrows furrowed as well. “Look!”
Hunter leaned over. Sure enough, Emma’s forehead was scrunched up, her eyes tightly clenched shut. “What’s she so mad about? She hasn’t even woke up and she’s sulking about something.”
“Hunter!” Sarah hissed, “call the doctor.”
Hunter pressed a white button on the ECG, as the two of them poured over her face. Thinking it was just a muscular twitch of some kind, he was about to sit back in his chair when Emma’s eyes fluttered.
Sarah and Hunter froze, their faces staring down at her. Her eyes slowly opened, as if her eyelids were incredibly heavy and hard to open. Below them, her soft brown eyes stared up at them.
“Emma?” Hunter said slowly, his voice quiet.
She stared at the two of them, without any response. Her eyelids fluttered shut again, before opening again slowly.
“Hey, Emma,” Sarah said, holding her hand. “Can you hear us?”
Emma licked her lips slowly and kept on closing and opening her eyes.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she opened her mouth. She looked at Hunter directly, “When… was the last time you had a shower? You look… like shit.” Her eyes began to drift shut again, “A moose party,” Emma mumbled from her bed, before seemingly falling asleep, “I want…moose.”
Sarah squealed and immediately pressed the button for the nurse again, “Ok, she sounds out of her mind, and high as a kite, but she’s awake.”
Hunter found that he was grinning. Never in his life had he been so thrilled to be told he looked like shit.