Itchcraft (34 page)

‘Watch the belts!’ she said. ‘Find a section without metal! Chika, with me.’

They worked instinctively; Leila and Chika took Itch and Chloe, Aisha and Sade had Jack and Lucy. The wireless communication between the divers was loud in their earpieces; everything else was done with hand signals.

‘These magnets will wreck all the kit,’ said Tobi, swimming round Aisha and removing a small bag from a backpack. ‘They have to go first.’

Leila found a stretch of Itch’s belt that was free of metal. Chika produced her knife and immediately felt the pull of the magnet. Gripping the handle tightly, she guided it onto the fabric. It was just above Itch’s hip, but she couldn’t wait: she had to be quick. She slashed with the serrated blade, and the belt came apart. Blood pooled into the sea – Itch now had a five-centimetre cut that would need stitches. Assuming he lived.

‘Cut the belt twenty centimetres from magnet. Space there,’ called Chika, starting on Chloe’s belt.

‘Got it,’ said Aisha who, twenty metres away, was dealing with Jack and Lucy’s belts. She felt the magnetic pull on every single piece of metal in her kit: buckles, straps, oxygen tank.

‘Arm’s length should do it,’ said Sade. With the belts held in her shaking fingertips, she let them go. They sank fast.

‘They’ve gone,’ said Aisha.

‘Same here!’ Chika called. ‘Now stop the descent!’

Itch and Chloe were still falling, but now drifting apart. Jack and Lucy were falling, but their clothing had got tangled and they were still together. A diver grabbed each of them around the waist.

‘BCDs now!’

Each diver inflated her buoyancy control device. Worn like a jacket, it was inflated from the tank of air on the back.

‘Slowing!’

‘More gas – this is too slow!’

‘Stopping here!’

‘Stopped!’

‘Take them up a bit.’

The descent stopped, Sade, Chika and Leila reached for the next piece of equipment they needed. ‘Lift bags to take them up!’ called Leila. ‘We have seconds – if that!’

Four small yellow packages with black straps were pulled from their packs, but Aisha, holding Jack, had a more pressing concern. She felt for her pulse. ‘Tobi! Heart stop here! Defib now!’

Five powerful kicks, and Tobi was with Aisha and Jack. ‘Wait for the surface?’ said Tobi as she handed her the defibrillator, already powered up and with instructions flashing across its screen. Given that it restarted the heart with an electric charge, the machine was usually operated in the dry. But Aisha had experimented in the shallows of her local beach and believed it could work underwater. She had modified the unit to function at up to five atmospheres – around forty metres.

She shook her head. ‘She hasn’t time.’

Next to her, Sade was filling a lift bag with air from a canister. Meanwhile Aisha had ripped Jack’s shirt apart and rammed two super-adhesive pads onto her chest. One stuck high on the left, the other low on the right; her heart in between. ‘Tobi! Support Jack for me. Need something to push against.’

Tobi understood and swam round behind Jack, her tanks hard against Jack’s spine. ‘Ready!’

Aisha attached a breathing regulator to Jack’s mouth and saw the
EVALUATING PATIENT
message scroll across the small screen. ‘I’ve done that bit,’ she said, let go of Jack and hit the power button.

Jack convulsed, her back arching. Sade pushed back against the spasm and held her in place. Aisha grabbed Jack again.

Leila’s voice now, loud in everyone’s earpiece: ‘Bag’s inflated. Tying to Itch now!’

Then Chika: ‘Mine too. Small girl nearly ready. Seconds, people! We have seconds, that’s all!’

Then a new voice. ‘Right above you with the RIB now!’

‘Coming your way, Dada,’ said Leila. ‘Bad down here. Gonna need everything we have.’

‘Got that, Leila.’

‘Ship gone?’

‘Ship going.’

Above them, Dada was at the helm of the Ribcraft 12.0 offshore boat, its three outboard motors idling. Only the slightest adjustments were needed to maintain position above the rescue site. She wanted to use the searchlight mounted on its high, wave-swept bow, but the
Strontian
was still too close. The stars gave her only a limited visibility, and she strained her eyes across the surface. Seeing nothing, Dada shouted into her radio.

‘Come on, guys! Let’s see you!’

She got no response but wasn’t expecting any. Everyone knew that they were working to tiny margins. When the brain is starved of oxygen, you move fast or your patient dies. You get the victim to the surface as safely and quickly as possible and work on them there. If you can get them to hospital, so much the better; given that this wasn’t going to happen, Dada had laid out blankets, oxygen and medical supplies on the wide deck. She hoped they wouldn’t be needed, she guessed they would be.

‘Letting Itch go!’

‘Chloe’s on the way up.’

‘Lucy too.’

As the three of them drifted to the surface on their hot-air-balloon-style lift bags, all the divers swam to where Aisha was treating Jack. She was watching the defib unit, its messages glowing brightly in the gloom.
EVALUATING PATIENT
, it said again.

‘Leila, grab hold; Chika, take the box; Tobi, get to the RIB.’ Aisha passed the defib unit to Chika as Tobi swam for the surface. Aisha placed the heel of one hand in the middle of Jack’s chest, then her other hand on top. She was about to start the rhythmic compressions that were standard procedure for fighting cardiac arrest – 100 a minute – when Chika cried out.

‘
Shock advised. Stay clear of patient!
’ she read.

‘OK, Leila, let go. I’m clear. Punch it!’

Chika hit the button, Jack spasmed again, and as Aisha started up the chest compressions, her limp, trailing arms swayed slightly with each push.

Aisha stared at the waxy, wasted face. ‘Come on, damn it!’ She pressed Jack’s chest harder. ‘Start – please start.’

At the surface, now circling the rescue zone with increasing anxiety, Dada was keeping radio silence. She knew what was happening below her; knew that three lift bags were bringing three people up to her, and that Tobi wouldn’t be far behind – once she had taken the standard decompression precautions to avoid getting the ‘bends’; if the gas expanded in their bloodstream, they could die too.

She knew that Aisha was performing an underwater defib. Maybe it was the first ever – she hadn’t heard of anyone else trying it. She focused again on the circle of choppy water as her bow waves crossed and broke over each other.

And then one, two, three bright yellow balloons hit the surface.

‘They’re up!’ she called. ‘Counting three bags here!’ and she brought the RIB in as close as she dared. Breaking the rules but seeing no other option, she dived off the boat. Three strokes, and she was among the unconscious, suspended bodies. Grabbing all three ropes, she kicked hard, towing the lift bags towards the boat. She secured Itch and Lucy’s bags, then grasped Chloe around the waist. Kicking with all her might, she straightened her arms, and pushed Chloe over the side of the RIB. She unhooked Lucy and repeated the manoeuvre, heaving her onto the idling boat.

She looked around, hoping to see Tobi on the surface, but it was too soon. ‘On your own, then,’ she muttered, and pulled herself aboard. Stepping over Chloe and Lucy, she reached over and hauled Itch in. His hip was still bleeding, and she grabbed a towel, pressing it firmly over the cut. ‘That’ll have to wait,’ she said.

Dada knew from the radio chatter that her friends below believed that Itch, Lucy and Chloe had blacked out but had not inhaled too much water. She knew that, underwater, the epiglottis behind the tongue folds backwards and closes off the trachea, preventing water from entering the windpipe and lungs. But the reflex doesn’t last long. The rescue had been fast . . . she hoped it’d been fast enough.

Dada had done CPR – cardiopulmonary resuscitation – before, but never three at once. As the boat idled, swaying and drifting in the swell, she turned on her torch.

‘OK, breathe!’ she shouted. ‘Breathe! Breathe!’ Sometimes yelling commands brought a response, but all three patients were as lifeless as when she’d dragged them out. She threw blankets over all of them, but tended to Chloe first.

‘Rescue breaths, then.’

She pulled Chloe’s head back, opened her mouth, checked for an obstruction and put her mouth on hers. Chloe’s lips were terrifyingly cold. Dada exhaled forcefully, feeling her breath make Chloe’s chest rise. She turned her head sideways, inhaled, then tried again. Chloe coughed, rolled onto her side and vomited.

‘You beauty!’ yelled Dada. ‘Welcome back, Chloe!’ And before Chloe retched again, she was examining Lucy and Itch.

A cry from the water: ‘I’m here! Coming in!’

Dada didn’t look up, didn’t reply – there wasn’t time. Tobi would see what was happening soon enough. ‘Breathe!’ she yelled, first to Itch, then to Lucy. She knelt between them. Lucy first. Head back, mouth on mouth, exhale. Itch second. Head back, mouth on mouth, exhale.

‘Breathe!’

Lucy again . . . Itch again . . .

‘Breathe!’

The sound of Tobi hauling herself into the rig.

‘On her!’ Dada pointed at Lucy. She stayed with Itch as Tobi took over with Lucy. Chloe was still coughing and vomiting. Dada had left water and oxygen beside her; she took both, then tried to speak, but nothing came out. Propping herself up on one elbow, she watched, horrified, at the attempts to resuscitate her brother and her friend.

‘Breathe!’ shouted Tobi.

‘Breathe,’ whispered Chloe.

Thirty metres below the RIB, the defibrillator flashed again.

‘Shock coming!’ said Leila. ‘Might be the last one. Let her go!’ Aisha and Chika released Jack, Sade braced herself again, and Leila sent the electric charge through the cables, through the pads, through her chest, through her heart.

Which started beating.

Different lights flashed on the unit – all green.

‘We got her!’ said Aisha. ‘We got her!’

Leila checked the breathing regulator and felt Jack’s mouth tighten around it.

She inhaled.

She opened her eyes.

And panicked.

Eyes wide, legs kicking and arms windmilling, she spat out her mouthpiece.

‘Need the slate!’ said Aisha. ‘Need it now!’

Jack’s eyes were wild, her head tossing one way, then the other. Leila put the breathing regulator back in and held Jack’s arms. She nodded and smiled, holding a torch to her mask. Jack nodded back.

Chika had found the slate and was writing furiously. She held it up a few centimetres in front of Jack. Leila shone her torch on it.

SAFE NOW. BREATHE
.

Jack, with no mask on, squinted then nodded. Chika wiped the slate clean again.

SURFACE SLOWLY
.

Jack nodded. Chika wiped.

OTHERS UP ALREADY
.

Jack nodded, but looked up and started to panic again. Aisha held her hands.

THERE SOON
.

Jack freed her hands. She looked around, then held up three fingers and stabbed them upwards.

Chika understood the reference to Itch, Jack and Chloe. She hesitated briefly, then wrote again:

DON’T KNOW
.

Chloe was enveloped in a blanket and Tobi’s arms, but she was still shivering uncontrollably. Sade occasionally made a slight adjustment to the RIB’s steering, but always hurried back to where Chloe half sat, half kneeled in the middle of the deck.

Dada and Tobi worked on Itch and Lucy in perfect synchronization. Mouth on mouth, exhale. Head tilt, inhale. Mouth on mouth, exhale. Head tilt, inhale.

‘OK, breathe!’ shouted Dada.

‘
BREATHE
,’ roared Tobi, centimetres from Lucy’s face.

‘It’s not working, is it?’ said Chloe quietly. She turned and buried her face in the blanket, unable to watch any more.

She could hear the RIB’s idling motor, the deck’s sloshing water and the rhythmic breaths from Dada and Tobi. And then, suddenly, wonderfully, the rasp of two throats gasping for air.

Chloe spun round. Both Itch and Lucy were bent double, arms wrapped around their stomachs. But their chests were heaving, taking in lungfuls of air. Dada and Tobi high-fived, then picked up the oxygen and gave the masks to Itch and Lucy. Chloe saw that her brother barely had the strength to hold it, and she knelt down, holding first Itch’s mask, then Lucy’s. She looked from one set of glassy, unfocused eyes to another and beamed. ‘Hi,’ she said.

Itch managed a weary smile; Lucy gave a croak, but no words came out.

‘Don’t speak just yet,’ called Tobi. ‘It’ll all come back in time. Rest up.’

But Itch wasn’t listening. Sucking his oxygen in deeply, he hauled himself into a sitting position. He blinked, swallowed twice and coughed hard. ‘Where’s Jack?’

Chloe grabbed his hand. ‘Not up yet,’ she said. ‘But the other divers are with her.’

‘And she’s going to be OK,’ said Dada, who still had her wireless earpiece in place. ‘She’s coming up now. They’re just talking her up the final few metres.’

Itch lay back on the deck and closed his eyes. There was so much to say, but for now silent gratitude would have to do. Chloe hurried to apply some steristrips to Itch’s cut. She used six to close the wound, Itch only wincing once.

Tobi was back at the wheel of the RIB when Dada, pointing her torch twenty metres off the port side, called out, ‘They’re up! Patient incoming!’

Chloe followed Dada’s beam into the gloom. Aisha was swimming strongly towards them, Chika and Leila behind, cradling Jack between them. An umbilical-like tube stretched from Leila to Jack’s mouth, where she held an air hose and regulator tightly in place.

Aisha threw herself onto the boat, ignoring the helping hands, then leaned back out to receive her patient. She gently removed the breathing regulator and took her shoulders, while Dada took her feet. Together they lifted her aboard, then set her down on the deck with such gentleness, it was though they thought she might break at any minute.

Itch and Lucy half rolled, half crawled over to where she lay. Lucy reached for her hand, and Chloe threw a blanket over her shivering body.