Chapter Text
A young girl with auburn hair and a spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks sat curled up in a big, worn, swivel leather chair. She dipped her nose back under the oversized, cable-knit, ivory sweater that was miles too big for her small frame. She placed the collar over her nose and once again smelled his scent. Her arms wrapped around her legs that were curled up to her chest for comfort and warmth. Her eyes peered out over the collar as she looked around the home office again. The walls were adorned with pictures of his years on the sea, collected artifacts of the 19th and mid-20th-century, with knick-knacks that he'd picked up through the years in his travels. She looked at his desk in front of her, piled with open nautical charts, maps, books, and scribbled notes. His favourite coffee mug with a few chips around the handle and edge had a picture of a lighthouse with the words 'Arcadia Bay, Your Home to Peace and Contentment' written around it. His last cup of coffee sat on a small, old porthole that he'd picked up somewhere in his travels, using it as a coaster. Her eyes looked at the tall model ship she'd placed on the desk. It was the last project they'd done together some months ago. Her eyes glanced down by the office table drawers to his faded leather and blue canvas satchel that he carried everywhere. She leaned over, picked it up, and looked at the initials, 'M.C.' Her little thumb caressed the embossing as she thought about him. She hugged the shoulder bag and let out a mournful sigh as she closed her eyes, wishing to hear her grandfather's voice again, telling her about his travels. The room was silent for a moment as she waited one last time, listening.
"I can't fuckin' believe this," a man outside the closed room growled.
"Ryan, language," a woman's voice scolded him with a loud whisper.
"Jesus Christ. How? How, why did he do this?"
"Ryan," his wife scolded him again for the language.
"Vanessa," he countered, not wanting to be quiet and held back over his emotions, "is there absolutely anything you can do? Anything at all? This is…" Ryan looked at a thick document in his hands. "All of this, you're telling me, is legal?"
Another man in a business suit spoke up, apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ryan, I went over everything and…" He cleared his throat and looked at the document. "It's, ahh," he could only glance at his friend, "it's legal."
Ryan asked, running out of ideas, "Can... can you delay it so I can fight it in court?"
"I can try to delay it for maybe a week, but Ryan, it will cost money, and that family will come back with their lawyers and get it turned over in less than a day."
Ryan whispered to himself as he kept his emotion held once more, "Why? Why would he do this?"
"I don't know… I really don't know," the lawyer replied.
There was a pause between the three adults in the living room. "Are they out there now?" Ryan asked the lawyer.
"Yeah... and he brought along the police."
Ryan scoffed, "Fuckin' asshole, hiding behind others, as always."
Vanessa's voice became softer as she placed her hand on his forearm, "Ryan."
The man let out a big breath of air, and lightly shook his head as he looked down at the floor, defeated, "let's go."
The young girl heard the footsteps walk towards the office room door, then it opened. Her mother stood in the doorway with red, glassy eyes. She mournfully smiled at the young girl in the leather chair. "Maxine, honey, it's time to go."
Max quietly got out of the chair, put her grandfather's satchel over her shoulder, and picked up their model ship. She walked to the door and closed it about halfway, the way that he liked it. She turned to see her father holding back tears as he forced a smile. He placed his hand on the top of her head and brushed away her hair, showing her sad blue eyes. His voice was quiet and caring, "Time to go, Digger."
The westerly winds were coming off the water in the bay, bringing an overcast day and cold temperatures to the small town of Arcadia Bay. The lawyer was the first to walk out of the family home, followed by Vanessa with her and Max's luggage in hand. Max waited for her father to close the door and she watched him hand over the keys to the lawyer. Ryan picked up his luggage and placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder to guide her to the car. Max went to the open car door where her mother stood by and was stopped by another man. She looked up at the police officer who gazed down at her. He apologetically stated, "I'm sorry, miss, but you cannot take that."
Ryan stood by his open driver's side door and looked at the officer, then to another man in a business suit and glasses, standing next to the black town car parked on the side of the street. "You cannot be serious?" The businessman didn't say a word or express any emotion. Ryan looked at the officer and watched him lean down and gently take the model ship away from his daughter. The small girl frowned and her eyes welled up. Ryan stared back at the businessman, angry. "Sean, it's a model ship. It's something she remembers of him."
The officer with the model in his hands looked at Sean Prescott to see if the man would change his mind. Sean, with no emotion in his voice, reiterated, "I said everything, Officer Ross."
The officer turned and quietly spoke to the young girl, "I'm sorry, miss." Max looked at her mother then over to her father, hoping that there was something that they could do.
Ryan saw his daughter's sadness and her tear-filled eyes. He clenched his jaw, glared, and growled at Sean, "You fuckin' asshole." Vanessa helped Max into the backseat and then closed the door. She scowled at Sean as she got in the front seat, letting her husband continue, "You take something that has NO fucking value to you and means the world to her."
Sean countered, "Don't take your anger out on me. You want to be angry, be angry at your father. It was his fault he couldn't pay off his debts. He signed away the house, including its contents to my father years ago." A brief smirk appeared. "Maybe if you knew him better-"
"You're a piece of shit!" Ryan yelled. "Your whole fucking family is nothing but scum. Someday-" Ryan began to speak a warning but was stopped by his lawyer, who had placed an arm on his shoulder. "It's not worth it, Ryan." He knew that Sean would go that far in laying charges if Ryan uttered a single threat.
Ryan clenched his teeth and swore under his breath, "Someone is gonna show the world who you really are." The lawyer glanced at Sean with a sense of guilt, then looked away. The Prescott's family money had bought off another person from the town. Ryan got in the family car, started it, and drove away from his father's home.
In the light rain, the young girl rested her head on the window and watched the water droplets run down the glass. Her thumb caressed the initials of the satchel as the scenery of Arcadia Bay disappeared.
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Years Later…
The last of the inflatable underwater balloons were attached. The diver spoke into her helmet and the mic picked up her voice for the ship's crew topside, "Last one's attached. She's ready to be lifted."
A pixie cut blonde woman spoke into the radio topside on the ship's bridge, "Aye, ready when you are." She looked to another crew worker by her side. "Let the crane op know to be ready." The man nodded and left the room, talking on his two-way radio.
The diver below grabbed and pulled the handle of the inflatables. "Air's released." Four large balloons inflated, lifting the object from the ocean floor with sand and silt swirling into the water, obscuring their vision. From down below in the murky tan cloud, four white balloons emerged with an 18th-century ship's 18-pounder long gun cannon attached. The diver held on to a piece of coral attached to the old iron cannon, and from the sandy floor below, they were lifted for a free ride to the surface.
The radios picked up the diver humming the theme song to Superman. The pixie blonde rolled her eyes and got back on the radio to the deck crew, "She's coming up with the cargo."
"Aye," a worker radioed back.
The blonde walked out of the ship's bridge and shielded her eyes from the sun, high above the clear, blue sky. She reached into her breast pocket, put on a set of aviator sunglasses, and then looked over the port side of the ship as crew members were getting ready for the cargo to emerge from deep below after two centuries of rest.
With the tune in her head, the diver sang from below, "Bah Bah bah daaah da, Bah Bah bah daaah da, Bah Bah bah- Oh Shit!" The piece of coral she had been holding onto broke off from the cannon. "Shit!"
She tried to swim, but with her Surface Supplied Diving Suit, no flippers, and added weight to keep her on the ocean floor, it was too much, and she slowly started to fall backward. She watched the artifact and balloons float away to the white surface above as she clawed the water around her.
Flailing around, she tried to keep herself upright to find the underwater guideline. Shitshitshit. She came to a gentle stop from her fall unexpectedly and quickly looked down to see a robotic arm between her legs.
"Need a lift, Superman?" A female voice was heard over the diver's helmet speaker.
"I was doin' okay," the diver stated, looking over her shoulder.
"Pff, yeah, getting your ass in trouble again."
The diver swung her leg over a submersible robotic arm and then stretched out with both legs up on the opposite arm and slouched her body down as the submersible carried her.
"Ah, my hero." The diver smiled, looking at the woman behind the spheric glass of the Worx™ submersible. The woman was sitting comfortably with a work boot resting up by the control panel. She wore a blue and grey plaid, open, long-sleeve shirt, rolled up to her elbows. Her work pants bore a few dark oil and grease stains, with her long wavy, light-brown hair in a ponytail, covered under a beat-up ballcap. "Ready?"
"To the surface, my good woman."
"You're buying again," the submersible pilot stated.
"I think today a whole country will be paying our tab," the diver replied.
The two laughed as they headed to the surface, completing their two-month job.
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Topside, onboard, there were cheers and congratulations from the crew. The pixie blonde shook the hand of an older, excited, tanned-skin man who spoke English with a thick Spanish accent, "-And thank you each and every one of you. This is a proud day for my country!" He raised his hand, and cheers went up again from the crewmembers.
The diver stepped aboard and was helped out of her equipment. Her helmet was pulled off by a crew member as she unzipped and stepped out of her drysuit. "Is it the one?" she asked, taking off the blue bandana draped over her short choppy strawberry blonde hair. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over, seeing the submersible pilot adjusting her beat-up ball cap with a smile. "See for yourself." The diver turned and saw the front of the long gun cannon barrel open, revealing Spanish doubloons. The submersible pilot lightly smacked the diver on the shoulder. "Payday, Price." She then smiled widely. "Fuckin' payday."
The pixie blonde, along with another woman wearing an off-white beanie, walked up to the diver and pilot with champagne glasses for them. The blonde smiled. "Chloe, Sloane, it's the El Rantoncito cannon." The two women laughed, took the champagne, and celebrated with everyone.
The Chase Foundation had found and returned another sunken treasure.
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One month later...
A woman in her late twenties with shoulder-length auburn hair looked over a nautical chart on a table before her. Between the papers, books, and other charts, sat an old leather and blue canvas satchel with the embroidered initials of 'M.C.' A university I.D clipped to her pants stated her credentials: 'Oregon State University. Dr. Maxine 'Max' Caulfield. Dept. of Archaeology.'
Max's colleague, Dr. Warren Graham, walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee. He offered her one. "Do you think they'll arrive on time?"
Max hauled up the sleeves of her grandfather's old cable knit sweater that was still too big for her and took the offered coffee. "They're already here," she said, and took a sip.
Warren, surprised, replied, "Really, three days before the start?"
"Arrived about two hours ago and are anchored in the bay."
"Oh, man." Warren's heart pounded. "I'm getting excited."
Max smiled, sharing the feeling. "Me too. I'm gonna head up on the cliff and get a picture of the bay just before sunset. I want to document everything-" Max was cut off by the sound of an aircraft flying low over the mountains. They walked to the window side of the room and looked out just as a Bell V-22 Osprey™ flew over the building, heading towards the bay.
The V-22 pilot, Steph Gingrich, callsign 'Gygax,' aka Steph, aka S.G., spoke into her headset as she adjusted her aviator glasses, "This is N221CF November-Charlie-Foxtrot to Arcadia Bay Coast Guard. November-Charlie-Foxtrot to Arcadia Bay Coast Guard." There was a short pause before the Coast Guard replied.
"This is Arcadia Bay Coast Guard to NCF. How can we help you?" The aircraft pilot asked for permission to land at the Coast Guard's base. Not too long after, she was given permission and welcomed to Arcadia Bay. Her co-pilot, a pixie cut blonde woman sat next to her. Victoria Chase, callsign 'Queen,' aka Vic, aka Boss Lady, spoke into her headset, "Can you fly over the town and bay just to get a look at the area?"
Steph nodded. "Sure." The pilot banked the aircraft and circled around the small coastal town on an overcast day.
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A woman sat lazily in the plane's cargo area and tilted up the brim of her cap. Sloane Black, aka Slo, aka Guppy, aka It-Was-Chloe, looked over her shoulder and out a window then spoke into her headset, "It's small."
Another woman the same age sat across from Sloane, looking out her own window. Chloe Price, aka Chlo, aka Price, aka It-was-Sloane, replied, "Mmm, you know what that means."
"No Big Chomp Burger," Sloane replied, disappointed.
"No, not that."
Sloane shrugged. "No theaters?"
Chloe looked back at Sloane, "Dude, when was the last time you paid for a movie?" Sloane screwed up her face and raised an eyebrow and shrugged, not knowing the answer. "Exactly…" Chloe said, then added, "Yah pirate."
Sloane smirked. "Okay then, small dive bars."
Chloe pointed her finger like a gun and shot at her dive partner. "Yup. And good ole' American diners with kick-ass burgers, none of that fancy franchise shit."
Sloane slouched down again and added, "With crappy coastal weather, this state rains all the freakin' time."
"Dude, you're from Maine, and it could be worse. It could be Seattle."
"I wouldn't mind Seattle; at least then, I know there would be a Starbucks in town."
"You know what else that means?" Chloe sat back in her seat, a little disappointed in her thought.
Sloane shrugged again. "Wha?"
"Slim pickens."
"Ha, speak for yourself. I don't have restrictions," Sloane said with a smile.
Chloe smiled and, with her leg extended, tapped Sloane's boot. "Yeah, you're gonna find yourself a heavily bearded drag queen fisherman to snuggle up with?" The two women smiled as they overheard the announcement of landing.
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A middle-aged man peered through binoculars, watching the tiltrotor aircraft land. Commander Madsen, aka Commander Madsen, aka COMMANDER... Madsen of the Arcadia Coast Guard station. He watched the aircraft hover and set down in the helicopter landing zone, then taxi towards a storage building, all the while keeping a sour look upon his face.
A woman stood next to him, fogging up the window with her nose pressed up against it. Petty Officer Dana Ward, aka Daners, aka D, was pouting on the inside. Commander Madsen had ordered her not to leave her post to greet the newcomers. The helicopter pilot let out a sigh. She whispered to the person standing on the other side of her, looking through their binoculars, "I have a ladyboner right now having that aircraft land here. I wanna get myself inside her." The blonde standing next to her raised an eyebrow and peeked out from her binoculars for a moment, staying quiet.
The ever-so 'I hear and see everything,' Commander replied, looking at the name of the aircraft's tail, "You will not go within twenty yards of that aircraft." He looked away from his binoculars and to the Petty Officer. "They may have friends in high places to worm their way into using an official government landing zone and storage facilities-" The Commander had received an email from Oregon's state senator of the request. It was more of 'this is going to happen, so move your equipment out of the way for them' situation. The Commander continued, "-but that doesn't mean we don't treat them like any other vessel that comes into town. Do I make myself clear?"
Dana replied, "Sir, yes, Sir."
The Commander went back to watching the newcomers walk down the loading ramp at the back of the aircraft. Dana raised an eyebrow at the Commander's orders and glanced at the other officer next to her. Ridiculous.
The three officers watched the aircraft's crew greet their peers from The Chase, the vessel that was anchored in the bay. They moved the plane into the storage facility and offloaded their much needed equipment and supplies.
They then loaded up two Zodiac™ Hurricanes that were docked at the Coast Guard's pier and steered toward their larger vessel. Once the two boats were back at The Chase, the Commander went back into his office to make an official report.
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Max pulled up to the lighthouse parking lot. She had wanted to take a picture of the town and the surrounding waters before the project started to mark the day. Once she reached the top, she got her picture and sat on a bench to look out over the bay at the docked fishing boats and the large vessel in the waters below. As the sun faded over the horizon the light quickly disappeared and the coastal weather turned for the worse. Max, in her long raincoat with her hood up, stood in the downpour.
The heartbeat of Arcadia was the lighthouse that stood behind Max. Its pulse lit up the bay and the surrounding town as she watched from below. Chain lightning flashed overhead and the skies rumbled. Her moment of calm was over, tomorrow was going to be a busy day. In fact, the next six months were going to be non-stop, but it was something she looked forward to.
The wind picked up, along with the rain. Max shielded herself against the elements and decided there was no point in being out in this type of weather. Another storm coming. She held down the brim of her hood and turned back to her vehicle but was suddenly and violently shoved. She was spun halfway around and pushed hard up against the back of the park bench. Her body was pushed forward and forced to bend over and kept in that position. She screamed and tried to fight her attacker off. Hands tore her raincoat to the side and Max's eyes widened. "NO!" she screamed out. She felt her body lurch to the left as the attacker hauled at her satchel. She turned to see who it was but the brim of her hood was too far down. She blindly swung her arm back, screaming, hoping to connect with whoever was there. The wet mud underneath her feet made her footing uneven and she slid to the side. Max then felt something slam into her face, her head snapped back, knees buckled, and she stumbled further back, slipping again in the slick mud. The back of her calf hit up against the unkempt low fencing around the cliff, knocking her off-balance. She fell backward, waving her arms in front of her to grasping for anything. Max screamed, feeling the weightless sensation as she watched herself rapidly move away from the lighthouse.
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"Dammit," Victoria said, looking out at the bow of the ship. She pressed the ship's intercom switch, "S.G to a com, S.G to a com."
A few seconds later, the bridge phone rang. Steph asked, "S'up?"
"Can you check the electrical on the bow deck lightings? Two are not staying on."
"On it."
"Thank you."
Victoria turned to a woman leaned up against a wall talking with the helmsman. "Price, can you go on deck to check it out, please?"
Chloe nodded, put on her raincoat, and went outside into the storm. She walked towards the bow, watching the deck light flickering. Lightning lit up the sky and she looked up towards the lighthouse as a second flash occurred. Her eyes widened as she saw something fall from the cliff to the water below. Chloe ran to the nearest ship's intercom, "Man in the water! Man in the water! Lighthouse cliff, south side! Lighthouse cliff, south side!"
The Chase's alarm sounded and all exterior deck lights illuminated the ship and the surrounding waters.
Victoria picked up the ship's intercom, "Rescue teams to stations. Man in the water. Lighthouse cliff, south side. Rescue teams to stations. Man in the water. Lighthouse cliff, south side. Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge."
The Captain walked into the bridge area as a radio operator sent out a call. "Mayday-mayday-mayday. This is The Chase, this is The Chase, this is The Chase. Charlie, Hotel, Alpha, Sierra, Echo."
Steph, with some crew, ran outside. "Where?"
Chloe pointed. "Between those two ridges right there."
Steph stepped next to Chloe to see where she was pointing and then got on her two-way radio and ordered the spotlights to be directed towards the lighthouse area.
The ship's engines fired up as Sloane emerged from below with other personnel.
Chloe called for her, "Slo! With me!" The woman followed her dive partner to a Zodiac™ boat where they jumped in. Chloe hit the crane switch and lowered the boat. As the fiberglass v-hull hit the stormy water, Sloane fired up the engines. Crewmembers disconnected the crane from above and the boat sped away with Chloe by Sloane's side, pointing to a direction.
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"This is the Arcadian Coast Guard, what is your emergency?"
The Chase's radio operator explained, "Arcadia Bay Coast Guard, this is The Chase anchored in Arcadia Bay southwest of your location. We have a report of someone falling off the lighthouse cliff on the south side. We have started a search and rescue and need assistance."
The Captain and the bridge crew waited for a response.
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The V-hull boat jumped out of the water and hit the next wave as Chloe indicated a specific area for Sloane to steer towards. As they reached a few meters from the cliff's edge, Sloane kept her distance, putting the boat perpendicular to the waves. Chloe stood by the outboard engines, switched on the boat's spotlight that was mounted to the roll bar and started scanning the dark water. "I can't see anything more than a few feet in this weather. Can you get closer?!"
"No! Any closer and the waves will bring us up against the cliff!"
"Aye!"
Sloane got on the radio, "We need extra lighting, asap."
"Aye," Victoria replied.
Chloe pivoted the spotlight, lighting up a small portion of waves swirling and slamming up against the cliff rocks. The water's surface was hammered with the rainfall, making it visibly challenging to see anything on the surface. She put a hand over her brow and squinted as she continued to search.
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The alarm went off at the Arcadian Coast Guard headquarters. A blonde officer relayed the situation over the speakers as the crew listened for instructions. Dana and her helicopter crew ran to their lockers, grabbing their equipment as the boat crews made their way to their vessels.
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"I can barely see anything," Chloe called out. As if on cue, multiple spotlights were directed to the area as The Chase was in position.
Sloane shouted, "They would have floated down in that area with the current!"
"Move back then!"
Sloane put the boat in reverse and kept it in a position to face the waves. She turned her attention back to the helm and yelled, "BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!" Chloe turned to see a large wave come towards their boat. She grabbed onto the nearest handles and bore down. When the boat met the wave, Sloane hit the acceleration and grit her teeth. She held onto the wheel and onto a handle. She put the two outboard engines to work as the boat powered itself up and through the wave's crest, covering the two in cold ocean water.
Like a wet dog, Sloane shook her head back and forth then looked back at her partner to see that she was still there. Chloe went back to the search as Sloane kept the boat in position. Once again, their vessel dipped down into the trough of a wave. With an eerie silence around them, Sloane yelled for another brace. She hit the acceleration and their boat proceeded to climb another huge wave. Chloe, out of the corner of her eye, saw a blazing orange color in the water. "THERE!" she called out as she was hit with a wall of seawater. She wiped her face and yelled out, "I saw something over there!"
Sloane looked over her shoulder, confirmed again that Chloe was still onboard, and saw the direction she was pointing. Sloane put the boat in reverse once more.
Chloe's arm shot outward, pointing like a hunting dog. "CONTACT!" Her eyes were glued to the body floating face-up in the water. Sloane turned her head, looking to where Chloe was pointing. She then grabbed the flare gun, put a shell into it, held it up to the sky and fired. The blazing rocket flew into the air, giving out their location. She got on the radio a few seconds later and relayed to The Chase to put their lights directly on their site. Someone had been found.
Chloe yelled over the winds, "They're gonna hit the rocks! Keep an eye on them!"
Sloane called back, "Aye! I have eyes on them!"
Chloe turned from the water, quickly got around the helm, took off her coat and footwear, opened a case, and put on equipment. A moment later, she activated the strobe light on her vest and then went overboard. "Diver in the water, Diver in the water," Sloane relayed back to The Chase.
Chloe swam with purpose, looking through a diver's mask. She pumped her legs, put her fins to work, and reached the person floating in the water. Oh shit, it's a kid. Chloe hauled the trailing rescue can's rope attached to her. She wrapped her arms around the person with her rescue can, keeping both of them afloat. She then began to swim back against the current, but it proved futile. Sloane grabbed the rescue throw bag and tossed it to Chloe's side, who was already looking for it. The diver attempted to grab for it and missed as the two were swept further away by the underwater current and towards the cliff rocks. Sloane hauled the rope back in, hand over hand, and threw it at her mark again. Chloe grabbed and held on as Sloane attached the line to the boat's roll bar. She turned to see another huge wave coming toward her. Sloane yelled for brace out of instinct and training. Unfortunately, Chloe couldn't hear her.
The diver felt the tug on the rope, indicating to her that Sloane had her in tow. She then saw the previous wave in front of her and how high it was above them. She knew what was coming next. The diver gripped the rope tighter and waited to take a deep breath at the right moment. She felt the water hit the back of her neck, took her breath, and was forced underwater along with the victim she held onto. Chloe heard the water rush past her ears and watched the surface fall away as she went below the waterline and into the cold darkness. The diver squeezed the person in her arms and wrapped her legs around them to keep hold. Not letting you go.
Chloe was brought through to the other side of the crest. She released her held breath and looked back for her partner.
Sloane looked back, seeing Chloe still holding on and steered the boat away from the cliffside's danger. Once away, she slapped the shifter in neutral then attached the small boarding ladder over the side. Sloane hauled Chloe's line toward the boat and when the diver reached the side of the craft, Chloe grabbed the ladder, went under the water and powered herself upwards, lifting the body up for Sloane.
Sloane, leaning over the side, grabbed onto the small frame across their chest and lifted the body over and aboard. She placed them on the boat's deck and immediately started first aid. Chloe got aboard, took off her equipment, and they switched jobs.
"You got them?" Sloane asked.
"Aye, I got them."
Chloe took out the first aid box as Sloane went back to the helm and radio. "One person recovered, unconscious, heading to shore. Need an ambulance asap. Over."
"Understood. Relaying to Coast Guard your situation. Over."
Sloane headed for shore as the Coast Guard boat met up with them. They turned around and trailed behind The Chase's Zodiac™.
Victoria radioed back, "Sloane, head for the Coast Guard headquarters, they'll have an ambulance waiting. Over."
"Aye, understood, heading for Coast Guard headquarters. Over." Sloane headed for the northern part of Arcadia Bay, seeing the flashing ambulance lights.
Chloe drew back the hood on the person's coat and rolled the body onto its side. To the diver's surprise, the person started coughing and threw up seawater, gasping for air. They then thrashed about, thinking they were still in the water. Chloe steadied the person on their side, protecting them from hitting their head on the deck from the boat going through choppy waters. "Easy, you're onboard a boat. I got you." The small-framed person threw up more seawater. Chloe quickly cut off the person's raincoat and brushed the hair from their face and noticed that it was a woman. Chloe removed the woman's satchel that was across her chest as the woman once again coughed and threw up. The woman gasped for air, coughed again then rolled to her back. She peered up, exhausted.
Chloe leaned down to comfort her and talked into her ear, "I got you, you're safe, you're onboard our boat. We're heading for shore, you're going to be alright."
The woman's teeth chattered and her body shook from the cold waters. She grabbed with what little strength she had onto Chloe's hand, scared. Chloe held on to the small hand and smiled a warm smile. It comforted the woman. In truth, she felt Chloe's heat from her hand, needing it.
"Don't let me go," she said in a raspy voice.
"I won't." Chloe brushed the woman's hair away from her face. "I got you. You're safe."
"Price!" Sloane called out, tossing her a grey, wool blanket. Chloe caught it and laid it over the young woman to try to keep her warm.
Chloe leaned down and made small chit chat to keep the woman awake, "My name is Chloe. What's yours?"
"M-M-Max." Her teeth chattered so much she could barely get her name out.
"Well, Max, I'm happy to meet you."
"N-n-not as m-much aasss I am."
Chloe chuckled as she reached for the first aid box. "Max, I'm gonna put this mask over you and give you some oxygen, okay?"
Max didn't reply as her body shook. She concentrated on pushing air in and out of her lungs. Chloe placed the mask's elastic band over Max's head and put the mask in place, tightening it on its sides. "There we go." Chloe looked up towards the shoreline, then back down to Max. "Almost there, Max, just a few minutes, there's an ambulance waiting for you. You're going to be okay." Chloe placed her jacket over Max for an extra layer, then Sloane tossed hers to Chloe for yet another.
Max tiredly stared at the woman leaned over her. She again held her rescuer's hand, bringing it to her chest to keep her warm. Max's eyes felt so heavy, her body drained of any energy. She wanted nothing more but to sleep, it was too much to keep her eyes open. Her last image was of sky blue eyes looking down upon her.
"Don't worry, Max. I got you."
Max passed out, feeling the warmth of another hand on her cheek. Don't let me go.
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A man in a business suit stood within an elegant office and yelled as lightning flashed outside his floor to ceiling window behind his desk, "You what?!"
Two men stood before him. One of them, Damon Merrick, a local thug covered in tattoos with his hair slicked back, explained, "We tried to grab the satchel, but the bitch slipped and fell over the fucking cliff."
A man in his late-twenties, Nathan Prescott, watched his father, Sean, turn a shade of dark red as he continued to yell. The son quietly sipped his bourbon and listened to the failings of his father's 'henchmen.'
"You fucking imbeciles!" Sean yelled again.
The second henchman, Frank Bowers, who had his own set of tattoos, explained, "I tried to grab her but the ground was slick with mud, I almost went over myself."
"Oh, my Jesus fucking Christ!" Sean growled and threw his glass of bourbon at the wall, shattering it. "How can you fuck up stealing a bag from a woman that is as small as she is?! She's a fucking woman!" Nathan showed the tiniest of a smirk and it quickly disappeared. He wondered if this would be the day the man would drop dead from a heart attack. Sean turned around and picked up his phone, moving his thumb across the screen and searching for a contact. "Get out of my sight," he growled again. The two henchmen didn't move. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"
The two men turned and walked towards the door as Sean spoke to someone on the phone. Nathan took another sip, watching the two men. They glanced at him and Nathan lightly scoffed at their incompetence. The two men clenched their jaws and furrowed their brows, seeing him quietly judge them with nothing more than a look and a smirk. The door closed and Nathan glanced back at his father as he watched and learned.
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credits:
The Chase's ship is an Alucia Joseph Artese design.