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Spider grabbed for the nearest railing as the ship bowed again, dropping steeply as it descended the crest of another tremendous wave, sending Spider's stomach flying up through his throat. His feet left the deck and he clung to the wet railing as tightly as he could. He needed to get inside, now.
“Spider!” He thought he could hear distant shouts calling his name, but they were lost to the wind and sea spray that assaulted his face, obscuring his mask. Then, the ship slammed back down onto the surface of the churning ocean, sending Spider hard to the floor. The force of it was so great that he momentarily lost his grip on the slippery railing, and with a jolt of panic found himself sliding along the deck in the direction of the stern of the ship. He was going to be washed away. He scrabbled desperately to find something - anything - to cling on to, but the metal deck was perfectly smooth, and he couldn’t control the direction he was sliding in.
He felt the burn of the friction on his exposed skin, but it was overpowered by the dreadful realisation that another wave was looming behind the ship - and he was headed straight for it. Thunder cracked and lightning illuminated the silhouette of the 70 foot wave. Spider stared at it for a moment that contained an eternity.
This was it.
It was going to crash down on them, and he would be lost to the sea. He didn’t have time to say a prayer to Eywa, because he hit the railing at the stern with an almighty crash, unable to brace himself in time. Pain bloomed in his side - it felt like he’d cracked at least a hundred bones with the impact. He reached his hands to grip on, and braced himself for the seconds before the wave crashed down. He didn’t look up to see his fate, but the darkening of the light around him told him that the wave was upon them… it was right above them… any minute now…
He took the deepest breath he was capable of, and braced.
Water slammed into him from above with the force of a thousand direhorses. His skin burned and his body crumpled under the weight of the onslaught. He had no choice but to let go of the railings, knowing his fate was sealed. Water was all around him. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even feel anything. He was lost, tumbling and swirling in a freezing void of grey. Panicked seconds passed, and still he was submerged. The deck was gone from below him. Something was wrong, he should have come up for air by now. He didn’t know where he was, his lungs had frozen up from the icy water and nothing made sense.
He kicked out against the water, not caring about anything other than finding the surface. His hands reached upwards - or what he assumed was upwards - to try and claw himself towards air, and it was at that point that his fingers brushed past the tubing of his mask. It was floating next to his neck, unconnected to anything. He’d been holding his breath instinctively, but more panic surged through him as he realised the mask was compromised… the exopack had been ripped away by the storm surge.
He kicked violently towards where the water seemed lighter - surely that was the surface. He continued to be battered and thrown constantly, but he never gave up. He had to make it.
Just when he was sure his lungs couldn't hold out any longer, his fingers found air, and his head quickly followed. He breached the surface with a gasp of grateful air - completely forgetting that the Pandoran atmosphere was no longer filtered for him.
Immediately, his head began to swim and dizziness clouded over his brain like a fog. He gasped for breath again - the only thing he could possibly do.
As he knew it would, the dizziness doubled in ferocity and the backs of his eyes burned. This was it. This was how he went. He closed his eyes against the pain, and his final thoughts were a plea to Eywa for acceptance.
*****
“Shit, Colonel, he’s overboard!” came a shout from Wainfleet, struggling to be heard over the roar of the storm.
The recoms were clinging to the rail on the starboard side of the top deck, but when a wave had swept Spider away towards the stern, they’d screamed after him.
Quaritch wasn’t waiting to be told. He had been fighting his way towards Spider since the first waves had crashed on the ship, but the kid was so small and fragile and… human. He simply couldn’t hold onto anything against the force of the water.
“Spider!” Quaritch screamed for the hundredth time in the past half an hour. Where was he? He’d gone.. disappeared over the side. Quaritch couldn’t see him. He ran as best as he could towards the stern, but the swaying of the boat made him slow. Waves crashed against him, but he made it. His eyes scanned the churning ocean, but it was a nightmare. The water was grey, frothing, and choppier than Quaritch had ever seen on Earth, even including the gigantic sea storms as the planet cried out to be saved. It was apocalyptic.
It was hopeless.
Wainfleet staggered up behind him, and a second later he was followed by Z-dog and Mansk, all of them desperately scanning the waves for signs of Spider.
“There!” Z-dog shouted, pointing to a spot a hundred feet away.
Quaritch searched the waves desperately, finally catching sight of a tiny head bobbing at the surface, a rag doll in the waves.
Without thinking, Quaritch leapt head first into the waves. He hit the water hard - he knew that if he were still human, he never would have survived it. It was stupid. It was necessary. It was the only thing he could do.
Relishing in his Na’vi strength and stamina, he furiously swam towards the spot he’d last seen Spider. Waves towered over him now, and it was difficult to keep sight of the boy. When the next wave lowered, he found him again. Spider was floating twenty feet away, and Quaritch finally reached him, breathless and lungs burning.
Shit.
Spider’s exopack was missing. Quaritch turned the unconscious boy over in his arms, searching for the equipment as if it would just be floating nearby. Heart pounding, he found the disconnected tubing that connected Spider’s mask to the bare Pandoran atmosphere.
“Fuck!” he shouted, turning back to the ship and dragging the boy with him. Wainfleet was at the deck, still clinging on, and he threw a buoy over the side that Quaritch made a beeline for. It was difficult enough keeping his own head above water, let alone the unconscious Spider’s. He didn’t have time to worry about it though. The kid had been without oxygen for too long, too many precious minutes. He finally reached the buoy, and the next thing he heard was the sound of chopping cutting through the air from a Sampson gunship above them. He gasped for breath, looking up at the dark sky and praying that the monstrous waves would relent for just another minute.
“Come on, Spider, hold on!” he shouted at his son’s empty face. He ripped the boy’s mask off, since he noticed with a jolt that it had started to fill with water. “Shit!” Mansk and Z-dog appeared on hoists from the floating Sampson above their heads. “Give him here,” Z-dog shouted as she pulled Spider from the Colonel’s arms, signalling to the pilot of the aircraft to hoist them up. Spray splattered the group as Quaritch grabbed onto Mansk to be pulled up himself.
“His mask disconnected!” he shouted. “Radio the med bay now!”
Mansk did so and they were lifted into the Sampson. As soon as Quaritch unclipped himself, he staggered straight over to Spider, fitting him with a fresh mask before checking for a pulse. It was there, faintly, but the kid wasn’t breathing. “Fuck!” he shouted. What did he do now?
*******
Spider woke up in a brightly lit room. The first thing he became aware of was his pounding headache, his burning throat, and pain all over the right side of his chest.
He tried to make a sound, but all that came out was a dry rasp. Then he tried to sit up, but that was no good either. He cried out when his ribs protested harshly.
He looked around, trying to assess where he was and what had happened. He was on the Sea Dragon - he recognised the decor. But this was a different part of the ship. It was white, sterile, and filled with medical equipment. So, the med bay.
At that point, the doors to the left opened noisily and in strolled Quaritch, looking frantic and haggard, as if he hadn’t slept in days. Deep lines littered his forehead, and there were purple shadows under his eyes. Spider tried to croak a snide comment, but found his head hurt too much to even think of forming words.
“Spider!” The recom’s face came back to life when he realised he was awake. His eyes widened in a mixture of relief and concern, and he crossed the room quickly to kneel next to Spider’s bed.
“Jesus kid, you had us worried there!” He placed an uncertain hand on Spider’s arm.
Spider looked at him through bleary eyes, valiantly trying to form a sentence in his mind before exerting the effort of speech. “Wh-” he cleared his throat painfully. “What happened?”
Quaritch huffed in fake amusement. “Well, you’re a little survivor is what happened. The storm threw you overboard and you lost your exopack. I jumped in to get you, and we managed to pull you out.”
Spider frowned slowly. “Y-you… jumped in?”
“Yeah. Don’t let it go to your head though… I’m a natural swimmer and I’d have done it for any unlucky bastard that fell in.” Spider stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or not. He couldn’t tell if Quaritch was being serious. He couldn’t tell much of anything right now.
“You’re still pretty out of it, huh?” Quaritch asked. “You should get some rest… I’ll leave you alone to sleep.”
“No!” Spider surprised himself with the sudden steadiness of his voice. “You- you don’t have to…” he muttered, embarrassed at the way he was coming across.
Quaritch considered him for a moment, before grinning slyly, and settling back into the chair.
Spider let himself relax back into the sheets, and as soon as he had closed his eyes again he was passed out, safe in the knowledge that Quaritch would look out for him.