Page 55 of Mistaken
In which there’s nothing like impending death to make Maksim realize he’s capable of feeling actual, human emotion.
Maksim…
I have to trust that my bodyguards are already taking down the sniper as I sprint toward the open water. I hear a hail of bullets striking along the riverbank, and some distant screams but all I can see is the child slipping into the water and Ella throwing herself on her stomach and grabbing her coat, yanking on her with all her strength. Ella slips and her head goes underwater, but her skates dig in and she pulls herself out, and Yana too, getting her halfway onto the ice before it cracks again, the fissure weakened and unstable against their weight.
“Ella!” I’m shouting, on my knees, and trying to gauge the ice’s stability.
She doesn’t look away from the terrified Yana, her skin already blueish-white. “M- M- Maksim the ice keeps cr- cracking- I can’t pull her-!” She’s already shuddering violently and Yana’s grip is loosening where she’s clinging to her. Falling to the ice, I starfish as wide as I can to spread out the weight. I know Alexi is behind me, and he throws me a hastily improvised rope of scarves with a loop at the end.
“I’ve got you,” he rasps, “how close can you get?”
I’m already doing a slow army crawl, edging toward them, ignoring the ominous creak and sing of the frozen surface underneath me. “Ella!” I’m shouting, trying to get her to look at me, not the desperate little girl. “Grab this!” Snaking the scarf rope along the ice, it lands on her arm. This time, she looks away to find it and shakes her head. Dread is clogging my throat because I know she’s thinking the same thing I am, it’s not strong enough.
“Where is the goddamn rope!” Alexi is roaring at the others, but there’s not going to be enough time.
“Ella…” I’m selfish, I’m so selfish but I want her to save herself. She’s already risked letting go of one of Yana’s arms to get the loop around her, sobbing in frustration as the scarf rope keeps slipping. Her tears are freezing in silver tracks on her face. “Ella! Just hold on to the scarves, we’ll pull you both in!”
A thick sheet of ice under her chest cracks, and their combined weight dips them both in the water and I can hear Lucya wail behind me.
When Ella surfaces, she spits out river water and screams, “Pull!” Alexi and I frantically haul the stretched line out of the water, it’s holding Yana, and we’re dragging her across Ella’s back, which sends the ice she’s balancing on underwater again. Seven minutes it’s been at least seven minutes… a cold voice in my head is reciting the signs of cold incapacitation, which will kill Ella well before hypothermia will.The victim will lose meaningful movement in hands and feet, then arms and legs between five and fifteen minutes…She is smaller and slight, my wife, and the frigid water of the Neva will take her sooner. If she can’t hold on, she will slip under the ice.
The fissure in the ice is widening, and I can feel the water surging across my chest and legs, and grunting, I dig the blades of my skates deeper, pulling as fast as I can. Yana is no longer using Ella’s body as a makeshift bridge and is sliding across to us, her head is lolling and she’s half-conscious, and we pull faster as the weak, improvised scarf rope begins to unravel. Lucya seizes her daughter and runs for shore.
“Here’s the rope! The rope- Maksim!” It’s Yuri shouting at me and I grab the thick line, sending the loop over the ice. Alexi’s hands are digging into my ankles. He’s pushing me to inch forward, even though he must be covered in the water by now, too.
“Ella!” I say sharply, “You need to listen to me. Grab the rope, put it under your arms.”
“I ca… n’t… mov my…” Her eyes are struggling to stay open and she’s shuddering so hard that her grip is slipping.
“Grab the rope!” I shout over my shoulder, “pull as soon as I have her!” I’m crab-walking sideways, circling to a thicker patch of ice to support my weight, but as my wife starts slipping back into the water, I loop the rope around my arm and leap for her. I land in a crash of ice, chunks flying past me as my face dunks underwater but I have a death grip on Ella’s jacket and we both slide back onto the ice, which keeps cracking under our combined weight, but less and less as the others pull us faster until we’re free of the open section.
“Over here-” Yuri's directing the others, “there’s a rescue sled ready, get them on-” Eager hands haul us onto the sled, yanking off our sodden coats and piling heated blankets onto us. I look up, squinting in the sunlight to see an anxious crowd, other skaters had raced over to help our men rescue us, and a huge, burly man is piling hot coals from his hot drinks stand into a fireproof bag and putting them on our feet.
Looking down at Ella I see she’s lost consciousness, and I begin rescue breaths. There arefeldshershere by now and one tries to speak with me.
“Sir, I can take over-” I shove him aside and continue as we’re lifted into the ambulance.
Ella…
I’m having the best dream, Maksim is on top of me, kissing me and it’s really great until someone starts sticking pins into my feet. They sting and it’s pissing me off and I keep shaking my feet, trying to make them let go of me…
Then my eyes open, and they’re stinging, too. I can’t quite figure out where I am until Maksim leans over me, kissing my forehead.
“There you are,????????.How do you feel?” We’re both in his massive bed and wearing next to nothing.
Now I remember. “How’s Yana?”
“She’s all right. The bullet that sent her into the water only caught her jacket, she wasn’t wounded. She’s got a mild case of frostbite on her ears and fingers, but Alexi says she’s already chattering incessantly and demanding soup.”
I can’t help laughing, “I like that girl.” Sobering a bit, I squeeze his hand. “Thank you for saving us.”
His face darkens, and I wonder if I offended him. “You saved Yana, and neither of you would have been in danger if my men had been doing their job.”
Oh, god. Maksim’s getting pissed off and that usually means someone dies horribly,I thought.
“Hey, you know what? I think we suck at having a good time. We get shot at every time we try.” I’m hoping he’ll laugh, no luck but at least there’s a hint of a smile.
“Are you feeling any pain?” Maksim’s hand smooths over the heavy blankets piled on top of us.
