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He retched, spitting water and debris back into the lake, but the foul taste of it clung to the inside of his mouth, the stench filling his nostrils. His wild splashing turned more purposeful as he moved from the panic of falling into the water and into a freestyle stroke, swimming to the slippery, steeply inclined edge of the creek. He reached for the exposed roots of a tree, using them to help get his feet underneath himself. Retching again, his chest heaving with the force of it, Paul spat a wad of dirt and mud out of his mouth. There was a low, rumbling sound from up on the bank and Paul frowned, looking up to see something he hadn’t had much opportunity to witness: Daryl smiling. And, more than that, Daryl was laughing.
“It’s not that funny,” Paul said, his voice rasping out.
“Funniest shit I’ve seen in a good long while,” Daryl said. He looked down at Paul, his lips twitching again before he looked away. He pressed his knuckles to his lips but it did nothing to conceal the way his shoulders shook with laughter. “Way you fell head over ass. What happened to them ninja reflexes, huh?”