The Price of a Life

Chapter Seven

 

 

What the¾?  Hutch blinked the sweat out of his eyes and readjusted his grip on the binoculars.  Fire?  Starsk, what the heck’s going on out there?

 

“Vestman!  The Stingray’s caught fire!” Hutch bellowed into the cabin, then raced back to the boat’s bow.

 

“No!”  Dobey hauled himself to the guardrail, where Hutch shifted from foot to foot in agitation.  Edith and Cal rushed to join him. 

 

“Let’s see what’s going on!” Vestman hollered from the control room, snatching up the microphone. 

 

“Sea Star One to Air Alliance Twelve, move in now!  Repeat, Air Alliance Twelve, Stingray in distress, move in!  Move in!  Copy?”

 

Sanderson, aboard the helicopter hovering ten miles off the coast, responded.  “We copy, Sea Star.  Double A-Twelve en route, ETA eight minutes.”

 

˜  ™

 

The second successive shock wave sent Starsky tumbling head over heels into the water, until he didn’t know which way the surface was, and he wasn’t sure he cared.  A crushing weight deflated his already exhausted lungs, and the salt water made his tortured shoulder feel as if it were on fire.  The second explosion had been the fuel tanks igniting, and the blow forced him further toward unconsciousness.  Starsky had heard drowning was like falling asleep, which at the moment, didn’t seem terribly frightening.  His blue jeans were heavy and pulled at his legs like weights.  To just slip away...  He was tempted for a split-second, but wasn’t ready to give up.  Hutch would never forgive him, and then, there was Rosie.  What if she got hurt in the explosion?  What if the Stingray wasn’t toast and Andrews was still alive? 

 

Starsky began a one-armed struggle toward the surface. 

 

˜  ™

 

Hutch tore his gaze away from the burning Stingray.  A second explosion had sent debris and flames shooting into the sky like fireworks.  Oh, Starsk, what’s going on?  Hutch’s grip on the binoculars turned his knuckles white.  How could you and Rosie have survived that?  Are you already...?  No!  No, I would’ve...felt it...would’ve known somehow you were gone. 

 

The Sea Star One continued on its course toward what remained of the Stingray. 

 

˜  ™

 

Edith buried her head against her husband’s broad shoulder.  My baby!  Oh, my sweet baby!  Dear God, please!  Please, not like this!  How can I go on if she’s...?  Oh, Father in Heaven, hold her!  If you have to take her now, tell her we love her, Jesus.  And hold her.  Hold my baby close until I can hold her again myself.

 

˜  ™

 

Cal gripped the Sea Star’s railing until he thought he could break it in his anger.  A myriad of emotions consumed him, especially the silent rage he’d felt since they had learned his father had been abducted.  How could this have happened?  Who were they that had played with their lives as if they were nothing?  Hate them so because of the color of their skin?  And Starsky...he was one of the best.  Who did they think they were to take Rosie and Starsky away from them? 

 

Cal wiped angrily at the tears running down his cheek.  I hope you all burn in Hell!

 

˜  ™

 

No, no, no, no, no...please, God, no...  The plea seemed to wipe out all of Dobey’s thoughts.  He unconsciously tightened his grip around his wife’s trembling shoulders.  Memories flashed through his mind: helping to deliver Rosie, her Christening, her first steps, her learning to ride a bike.  Rosie sobbing in his arms when her kitten was struck by a car, Rosie and Starsky playing in the pool with Hutch and Cal...Starsky!  Oh, Starsky, I never told you I didn’t mean what I said.  I was so afraid for my family...  I never blamed you, I was just so afraid.  Regret and grief tore through his heart until all that was left was the numbness of disbelief.

 

˜  ™

 

Rosie untied Starsky’s t-shirt from the oversized life vest, but was having a hard time controlling her movements as she tried to use the wet material as a flag.  Shaking from both cold and fear, it was difficult to concentrate on what she was doing.  Her fear became terror when she felt the preserver begin to loosen around her, threatening to spill her into the deep waters.  “Help me, Uncle Dave!  It’s slipping!  Help me!”

 

˜  ™

 

Just when he thought his starving lungs would burst, Starsky broke the water’s surface.  It took more than a few desperate moments to catch his breath.  Awkwardly, he fumbled with his jeans until he was able to kick free of them.  I’m so weak, how can I...?  He continued to tread water, though it was more of a thrashing of his legs and balancing with his right arm.  His left hung uselessly at his side.  Pain continued to threaten to steal his consciousness as each wave lapped at him and sent rivers of pain through his still-bleeding shoulder.  Frantically, Starsky scanned the skyline for signs of Rosie.  Her distant call of help forced him to turn until he could see her bobbing form almost a quarter-mile away.  He couldn’t make out her words over the sound of the waves and the crackling debris from the burning Stingray, but he could definitely hear the fear in her voice. 

 

Starsky drew as deep a breath as he could and slowly began making his way toward the tiny figure.

 

˜  ™

 

Rosie was panicking by the time Starsky completed his painful crawl to her.  She was still dog-paddling, but was hardly able to keep her arms within the too-large vest, or her head above water.  Along the way, Starsky had come across a portion of a life preserver that had been torn in half when the Stingray blew up, and was pushing it out in front of him.   

 

“Uncle Dave...I...I can’t paddle anymore.  The life vest...I can’t get it tied...and I...”  She finally began sobbing so hard her words were indistinguishable.  Rosie slipped out of the vest and the ocean enveloped her.  Starsky lunged forward and pulled her back above the surface and to his chest.  Immediately, Rosie began coughing up water and wrapped her trembling arms around him.  

 

As exhausted as he was, Starsky was still able to keep the two of them afloat¾barely.  But how long can I keep this up?  What if there’re sharks out here?  Come on, partner, this ain’t lookin’ too good.  I can’t do this one on my own.   

 

After a moment, Starsky placed Rosie’s hands on the broken life preserver.  Scanning the horizon for any sign of rescue, he sent up a desperate prayer.

 

˜  ™

 

“There!”  Hutch’s heart leapt when he finally sighted Rosie and Starsky through the field glasses.  Vestman followed the pointing arm and steered the craft toward the sun.  As the vessel surged closer, the Dobeys joined Hutch at the deck, finally getting a glimpse of the survivors.  Hutch frantically began ripping off his boots and shirt.  Understanding his intent, Cal followed suit.  Dobey reached a shaky hand up to his own shirt, awkwardly trying to remove it.

 

Hutch barely paused in his disrobing.  “No, Cap’n...we’ll get them up out of the water.  We’ll need you and Edith to help them on deck.”

 

The larger man barely nodded, frustrated at his limitations.  Hutch and Cal quickly grabbed up two life preservers and rushed back to the railing.  The distance between the Sea Star and Starsky and Rosie was rapidly diminishing.  Hutch could make out Rosie’s ragged, one-handed wave of the blue t-shirt.  But where’s Starsky?

 

Frantically scanning the water, Hutch was relieved to see his partner’s head break the surface, the waves having pushed him several yards away from Rosie.  He had assumed the dead man’s float, barely keeping his body at water level.  It was then that Hutch could make out the pool of blood floating around him.  Starsky’s too-pale face broke the surface again, and as the Sea Star drew closer still, Hutch knew time was running out.

 

Hutch whipped around toward Vestman in the control room.  “Hurry!  We’re losing him!” 

 

Vestman shook his head grimily; he was already at full throttle.  There was nothing more he could humanly do.

 

˜  ™

 

The minute it took to close the gap between the ship and the Stingray’s victims seemed to take an eternity.  Vestman had steered the craft as close as he dared without sending a rolling wave over the already exhausted pair.  Before the boat slowed significantly, Hutch and Cal were over the side, swimming desperately.

 

Every fourth stroke, Hutch lifted his head out of the water, both to breathe and to keep his position locked in on his partner.  Each time he looked, he saw the dark head struggle to raise above the water, but it was evident that Starsky was growing weaker and would soon succumb to the ocean.  Hutch could feel the stitches in his arm tearing free, but never slowed his frantic strokes.  With only a few yards remaining between them, Hutch watched in horror as, Starsky’s head could no longer raise itself, and his partner’s body began its descent into the ocean’s depths.

 

The Sea Star rolled against its own reverse throttle.  Vestman charged past the stunned captain and Edith as they clung to the rail.  He reached the aft deck just in time to see Hutch dive underwater where he’d last seen Starsky.

 

˜  ™

 

Hutch tried desperately to focus his eyes on his partner through the seawater.  Swift, sure stokes dug him deeper into the ocean until he thought his lungs would burst.  The odd, unworldly silence of the ocean encompassed him, adding to the nightmarish quality of the moment.  The reality of losing his partner crowded out all rational thought.  It wasn’t until black spots began to appear in front of his eyes that Hutch regretfully forced himself back to the surface for another lungful of air. 

 

As Hutch again kicked his way farther into the depths, fear filled his exhausted muscles with the adrenaline necessary to continue on.

 

Starsk, where’d you go?  It can’t end this way...it can’t!  Hutch paused in his descent and scanned the eerie blackness from side to side, urgently seeking his partner’s shadow within the uncaring ocean. 

 

There!

 

A few meters below and to his right, a silhouette was slipping into the depths. 

 

If I hadn’t paused long enough to get my bearings, I would’ve missed him, and it would’ve been too late!  If I hadn’t...  God, help me.  Help us!

 

Hutch savagely kicked out in his partner’s direction, hands grasping at Starsky’s limp ones.  Making contact with his partner brought an unfathomable amount of relief.  But Hutch knew the battle wasn’t over yet, and time was running out—for both of them.

 

Again, black spots swam in front of Hutch’s eyes, as his lungs burned in protest.  He knew if he didn’t break the surface soon, he would join his partner in succumbing to the ocean’s claim.  One arm looped across Starsky’s chest, Hutch kicked hard and towed his unyielding partner toward the surface.  He fought the need to gasp out for air as his strength began to leave him.  Sunlight danced like stars above him as they surged upward. 

 

Hutch pressed on toward the daylight, even when he could no longer see it, and the blackness engulfed him.

 

˜  ™