Slow Burn (Book 5): Torrent by Bobby Adair Read Free Book Online

truck into the fucking river , because I would have told you hell, no!”
    “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
    “I swear to God, Zed, if I don’t drown…”
    The water was nearing the ceiling and Murphy was nearly hyperventilating.
    “Be calm. It’ll be okay.”
    The water stopped rising.
    Moments passed before Murphy figured out I was right. The rising water had stopped. He looked at me, surprise etched into his face.
    “Try the door. But be careful. You don’t want to fall out into the river. You can’t swim, remember?”
    “Like I’m ever gonna forget that.”
    Murphy turned away from me and reached down to pull on the handle of his door. It opened with ease. He stuck his head out and looked around. “I’ll be damned.”
    “You gotta trust me sometimes, Murphy.”
    “Okay, lucky charm, what’s next?” He pulled his head back in. “We’re in the middle of the marina and about a hundred Whites are back there on the ramp and more coming.”
    “Okay. Listen, I’ve got to swim over and get the boat before they start coming up the docks and get on it. Are you going to be okay if I leave you here for a minute?”
    “Whatever, man. I’m cool. Just get the boat. And just so you know, I’m going to punch you in the face when this is over.”

Chapter 8
    I worked my way around the nearly submerged Humvee until I was on Murphy’s side. The pontoon boat was tied to a dock at least a hundred feet from that side. The mob of Whites collecting on the shore was growing rapidly. I took my pistol and extra magazines out of my pocket and lay them on the roof of the Humvee. The extra pounds of grenades in my Hello Kitty bag would make for hard swimming so the bag stayed on the roof of the Humvee. I kept the knife.
    I inhaled deeply three times before submerging and using my feet to push myself off of the Humvee’s fender. I intended to cross the distance completely underwater. Any surfacing would get the attention of the White mob and might lead to their welcoming me when I reached the boat.
    Staying just a few feet beneath the surface, I stroked with my arms and scissor kicked my legs. The wails of the Whites barely transmitted down to me through the water, which was noisy with raindrops falling on the surface.
    Surrounded by cold green, I had nothing to guide me but the hope I could swim in a straight line.
    As the distance dragged at me, my lungs cried out for oxygen.
    The need for breath grew and doubt sat itself on my shoulder and whispered faithless, discouraging words.
    But to come up for air was to advertise my presence to the Whites. To come up for air was failure. It was tantamount to stranding Murphy in the Humvee in the middle of the river.
    I stroked through the cold green.
    I thought about my buddy, Benny, the one I’d eventually beaten up in junior high. The summer before that, we were at the community pool with a couple of other kids from the neighborhood. We were all standing on the side when somebody said, “I’ll bet you can’t swim all the way across underwater.”
    Without even taking a moment to brag, I dove into the pool and glided under the surface, kicking with my legs and using my arms to pull myself along as I watched the black lane markers pass beneath. I reached the other side of the pool, popped up and turned around. It was easy but my friends were amazed. I swelled with pride.
    Benny, however, was having none of it. “I can do that.” He dove into the water and followed my path.
    My pride dribbled quickly away as Benny’s wiggly form beneath the water closed the gap between us. The last smidgen of that pride winked out of existence when Benny’s grinning face popped out of the water beside me.
    The little fuck had made it.
    The guys on the other side of the pool started to talk. I climbed up out of the pool, looked at all my buddies and said, “Well, watch this.” I drew a deep breath, dove back in, and swam the width of the pool again. Only this time, instead of stopping at