Roy Dobransky
He didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.
I can’t tell you what I was specifically thinking when I saw the airboat strike the stump that was sticking out of the swamp water. The boat was going at top speed and Zachary Moore, who was driving, steered into that stump on purpose, I can tell you that. He had to cut the airboat pretty hard off the straight line he was riding in order to get to that stump, but he did it.
When they slammed into that stump, I saw Zach and Aaron Brasseaux fly into the propeller blades of the airboat in front of them. That’s when I decided that Zach didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving. The red geyser that spread thirty feet in the air when they made contact brought credence to my assumption. Of course, any empathy I had for Zach was not afforded Aaron — also known as A-fib. That bastard was about to cut my wife open, so a happy good riddance to that psycho.
But as reason returned, after the adrenaline of an airboat chase and the observance of the efficiency by which the airboat fan blades could dispatch a human being, I immediately thought of Anna. The airboat that she was duct taped to miraculously remained upright, even after the jarring sudden stop of slamming into that stump. And while the stump did its job to stop the boat, it also ripped a huge hole in the hull.
Anna’s airboat is sinking fast.
Lemmy, the driver of the sheriff’s department speedboat, cuts the engines and we drift quickly to the dispatched airboat. In the light of our spotlight, Anna begins to come around after being temporarily rendered unconscious from the impact. Her head pops up, and she begins looking around wildly. I can see Anna’s eyes bulging as she stares toward our light with the realization that she is taped rather sturdily to a rapidly sinking ship. I’m still trying to figure out how to get to Anna, when I see Lemmy dive into the water with what looks like a large knife clenched between what’s left of his teeth. Sheriff Thornton throws out an anchor, and we stop just a few feet from Anna’s airboat. Lemmy deftly gets to Anna as the water reaches her chest and begins furiously cutting at the duct tape that binds her. Just as the water reaches her chin, Lemmy frees Anna and both grab onto the the life preserver that Sheriff Thornton throws from the speedboat.
I pull my love out the water, and wrap my arms around her before Jim even has a chance to throw a blanket over her. Anna seems like she’s still in shock, because she just stands rigid long after I embrace her. And just as I’m about to ask if she’s OK, she begins sobbing. I hold her tight as she lets the reality of being alive wash over her.
There’s a lot of commotion as the four airboats that were piloted by locals scan the area. I’m content to help Anna sit down, and I keep an armed wrapped around her as she cries into my shoulder.
“We got a body over here!”
The shout comes across the water and is barely audible above the sound of the airboat engines. Sheriff Jim Thornton grabs the bullhorn to get clarification.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“We…body…” is all I can make out.
Sheriff blasts over the bullhorn, “Jake, Stuart, Chick, Teak. You guys cut your engines for a minute.”
Simultaneously, the roar of the engines ceases, and the marsh is eerily quiet. Jim gets back on the bullhorn.
“OK, now what are you saying?”
“I said I got a body floating over here. You want me to pull it out?”
I can tell Jim is frustrated to have to answer such a ridiculous question, but the situation doesn’t warrant a smart-ass response.
“Hell yes! Pull it out the water. I’ll be right over.”
Lemmy has now climbed into the boat and doesn’t seem to feel the need to dry off. Jim just gives Lemmy a nod, and Lemmy jumps to the driver seat and cranks the speedboat up. I’m used to Lemmy having two speeds behind the wheel of this speedboat: stopped and balls-to-the-wall, so it surprises me when he coaxes the throttle just enough to glide us over to the other airboat where a body is being pulled rather clumsily from the water.
As we glide up to the other airboat, Lemmy cuts our engine and throws a line to Chick in the other airboat. Chick pulls us close then secures us next to them. Then he rolls the body over on the deck of his airboat as Jim shines a flashlight to get a better look. I’m busy holding Anna close, so I can’t see what Jim is looking at.
“Oh sweet Jesus!” Jim exclaims.
“What?” I ask as I look up.
Jim keeps his flashlight fixed, but looks directly at me. His eyes are as big as the lens on his light.
“It’s Zach.”
The shock causes me to forget all about Anna. I shoot out of my seat and peer into the face that’s being illuminated by Jim’s flashlight. It’s Zachary Moore, alright, and he’s in one piece – but he’s not breathing.
“Shit! Chick, you know CPR?” Jim asks.
“Hell no. I’ve paid COD, but that’s as close as I get.”
“Lemmy, help me get him into our boat.”
Lemmy and Jim hoist Zach into the front of the speedboat. Jim immediately goes to work on resuscitating Zach while Lemmy cranks up the speedboat and slams it into hyper-drive. Chick in the other airboat barely has time to untie our connecting rope before we speed away.
I hear Lemmy on the sheriff’s radio as we speed along, displaying far more professionalism than I would have ever given him credit for.
“Becks. Yo Becks! You still there?”
“I’s here, Lemmy. You guys catch ‘em?”
“Of course, Darlin. That’s why they pay me the big bucks. But right now, I need you to get on the line with Lafayette General and have them send an ambulance to the station. I’ll be docking there toot-sweet, but we got a possible drowning and a collision trauma they need to tend to.”
“Alright, Baby. I’m on the horn. Y’all get here quick.”
Lemmy lays into the throttle even harder, and I’m kicked back to one of the side seats.
I get back on my feet and just can’t get my mind around the fact that I’m looking at a fully intact Zachary Moore. I saw him fly into the blades of that airboat along with Aaron Brasseaux. I saw the spray of their blood as it painted the evening sky. But yet, somehow, Aaron is distributed across the dingy green waters of Bayou Teche, and I’m eyeballing a full head-to-toe on Zach.
I move to the front and assist Jim in giving Zach CPR. In the navy, we used to push a guys legs to his chest to get the water out, but I’ve been told that’s “old school” now. After what seems like an eternity with the roar of the motor drowning out our efforts, Zach coughs as he rolls to his right and hacks up the swamp water.
Sheriff Jim and I take turns beating Zack’s back and encouraging him to cough it up. Once he finishes getting the swamp water out of his lungs, he gasps then begins to breath more normal between coughs. As Zach lays back on his elbows and finally stops coughing, he looks back and forth between Jim and myself. Then he looks behind me.
“You OK, Son?” I ask.
Zach acknowledges me with a confused look but replies, “Yeah, I’m alright.”
“You gave us quite the scare there,” Jim says.
“Sorry about that,” Zach replies as he keeps his gaze fixed behind me.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re alright,” I say as I glance over my shoulder to the empty air that Zach’s fixated on.
“We’re almost to the police station dock,” Jim interjects. “We’re taking you to the hospital to get you checked out.”
“OK by me,” Zach replies.
We continue moving rapidly down the bayou, and Zach continues to look at me and then stare at the space behind my left shoulder.
I glance behind me again and confirm the air that remains there. Then I look back at Zach.
“What’s the matter, Son?”
“Nothing,” Zach replies. “I’m just curious.”
“Curious about what?” I ask as I take one more glance behind me.
“Uh, A-fib. Standing behind you. I’m just trying to figure out why you haven’t handcuffed him yet.