Warmth, cold, pain, relief.
Neil felt all of it at once as the river dragged him away.
The cold was the loudest. It seeped through skin and muscle, straight into bone, stealing strength with every second. Pain followed close behind, flaring in his shoulder, sharp enough that his vision pulsed white at the edges.
The thoughts were what kept him together.
Will anyone get sad if I die?
The question surfaced calmly in his mind, without panic.
He didn't know whether he wanted the answer to be yes or no.
It was the kind of thought no normal twelve-year-old should ever have.
But then again, no normal twelve-year-old would be here.
Half-broke.
Dragged through freezing water after saving his little sister.
His mind stayed crowded. That was good. Thoughts dulled the pain.
He had lived a short life. A good one, he decided. He laughed. He ate. He had people he annoyed daily.
And most importantly—
At least I saved her.
That thought settled something in his chest.
The river pulled harder. His body felt heavy now, unresponsive, as if it belonged to someone else.
The world narrowed to sound and cold and the dull roar of water in his ears.
He let his eyes close.
Then a voice cut through the noise.
"Neil!"
He groaned weakly.
Can't a man die in peace?
________________________________________
Not again. Not again. Not again.
The words looped in Zeke's head as Neil's body was ripped from the stone and swallowed by the current. One moment he was there. The next, gone.
Guilt twisted hard in his chest.
He hadn't jumped the first time.
He had listened.
He had obeyed.
And now Neil was paying for it.
He ran.
The river rushed up to meet him.
Splash.
His breath vanished instantly. The river seized him and yanked sideways, spinning him, slamming into his chest as if it meant to crush him from the inside.
Zeke thrashed, barely managing to keep his head above the surface.
How did Neil endure this?
Seeing it had been one thing. Feeling it was something else entirely.
The current was merciless, dragging at his legs, tearing at his clothes, twisting his body like it wanted to break him apart.
Through the chaos, he saw Neil ahead of him.
Neil wasn't fighting.
That terrified him more than the water ever could.
A storm of emotions surged through Zeke all at once. Fear. Respect. Awe. Desperation.
Don't you dare give up.
Zeke kicked harder, arms burning as he forced himself forward. His muscles screamed. His lungs begged.
Somewhere deep inside him, something tightened.
The water felt different.
Not calmer. Just slightly less cruel.
Barely noticeable. Just enough.
Zeke gained a hand's length. Then another.
"Neil!" he shouted, voice shredded by the river.
Neil's eyes cracked open.
"Seriously. Can't a man die in peace?" He rasped.
Zeke's gaze focused on Neil, just enough for him to see how bad it was. His shoulder sat wrong. His arm hung swollen and twisted, skin torn and bleeding freely into the water. His face was pale, lips faintly blue.
"Now what?" Neil asked.
Zeke didn't answer.
The lack of response was a response for Neil. His eyes locked ahead, and he saw it.
A stone.
Large. Half-submerged. The current split violently around it, water curling and crashing against its sides.
Their only chance.
Neil's eyes sharpened.
"When we reach it," he said, voice steady despite the pain, "I hook my arm. You pull us sideways."
Zeke stared at him. "No. I'll hook__"
"I will do it," Neil cut in. "I don't have the strength to pull us both."
The stone was almost on them now.
"My good arm holds you," Neil went on. "The other just needs to hook."
"You'll tear it."
Neil met his eyes. "Might as well."
The river slammed them forward.
Neil twisted his body, the movement costing him dearly. Zeke felt it in the way Neil shook, in the brief falter of his grip.
"Sideways," Neil said. "Not back."
They hit.
Neil wrapped his injured arm around the stone.
The scream tore out of him, raw.
Pain exploded through his shoulder, like his arm was being ripped out of its socket.
His vision went white.
But the hook held.
For a heartbeat.
"Now!" Neil screamed.
Zeke pulled.
He wrapped both arms around Neil's good arm and leaned with everything he had, legs braced against the river's fury. The current fought them, screamed against them, but the stone redirected its force.
Their bodies swung.
Pressure tore through Neil's shoulder, past sharp, past burning, into something hollow and distant.
Something gave.
The arm slipped.
They were thrown sideways.
The river spat them onto the bank.
Zeke hit hard, knees tearing into stone, but he didn't stop. He crawled, dragged, pulled until the water could no longer reach them.
Then he stopped.
Neil lay still.
Too still.
Zeke grabbed his collar. "Neil."
Nothing.
His chest moved. Barely.
Zeke let out a sigh of relief, but he couldn't afford to rest now.
He hooked his arms under Neil's shoulders and stood.
Neil was dead weight.
Zeke staggered away from the river, step by shaking step, Neil on his back.
_______________________________________
Julie stood frozen at the edge of the bank.
She had watched Zeke jump. Watched him fight the current. Watched both of them disappear behind stone and water.
She couldn't stop him.
She hadn't even tried.
She stood there, hands clenched, heart hammering, whispering prayers. Not to any particular god. It was all she could do.
Then she saw them.
Zeke emerged first, bent beneath Neil's weight.
Relief surged through her so sharply it almost hurt.
Then she saw Neil.
Not moving.
Fear crushed the air from her lungs.
She reached them just as Zeke faltered and dropped to one knee. Together they eased Neil down onto the grass.
"He's alive," Zeke said. "But I don't think we have time to reach the village."
Julie dropped to her knees. She didn't answer. She didn't look at Zeke. Her hands were already on Neil, checking his breathing, lifting his head just enough to open his airway.
Too shallow.
She struck his chest.
Come on, come on, Neil.
Nothing.
She adjusted her hands and tried again. Harder this time.
Still nothing.
Her stomach dropped, and her hands trembled.
This is my fault.
If she had been more careful. If she had thought things through. If she had never agreed to let Layla come along in the first place.
Layla would not have been here. And none of this would have happened.
She struck his chest again. Harder.
Still nothing.
Do something. Do something.
You useless...
Her anger burned hot and sharp, twisting into something darker, heavier.
Hatred. Toward herself.
Something twisted inside her.
Not pain. Not fear.
Something deep.
Her hands moved again.
This time, the motion felt different, not stronger, just clearer.
Her palms felt warmer. Steadier.
Julie blinked, confused, and struck again.
Neil coughed.
A weak, broken sound, but it was there.
Air dragged itself into his lungs.
Julie sagged forward, hands still pressed to his chest, breath coming in short, shaking pulls. She hadn't noticed she was crying until her vision cleared and she felt it on her cheeks.
Zeke exhaled shakily.
They didn't celebrate.
They didn't speak.
In that moment, nothing else mattered.
Neil was breathing.