Free Fog by Annelie Wendeberg Page B

in?’
    ‘Yep.’
    As we walk into the pool, his body tenses with insecurity. What a contrast to his always so sure and calm demeanour. Now, I regret I asked this of him.
    ‘The pool is deepest over there,’ I point at the waterfall. ‘We’ll swim there later, but not now.’
    He looks at it, then up at the gap in the foliage. The rain has stopped, but the clouds are still thick.
    ‘Ready?’ I ask.
    He shrugs. ‘I told you I can swim.’
    ‘Yeah, but you wanted me to show you how to swim across the swamp. I won’t even consider teaching you that if you can’t show me a few good strokes in normal…I mean, liquid water. Not mud.’ Boy, I’m glad I found a reasonable excuse. Because most of all I don’t believe he can swim; he gets all flustered when water reaches to his hip. He might be able to hold himself above the water for a few minutes, but that has nothing to do with swimming.
    ‘Besides…’ I continue, ‘…I want you to enjoy it. Come.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Pretend you trust me,’ I dare him.
    We walk farther into the pool until the water licks at my chest. ‘We’ll dive now, straight down, no fancy stuff. Keep your eyes open and do what I do.’
    Not waiting for his consent, I plunge head first into the cold. Silvery bubbles swirl around me. Grabbing a rock at the bottom, I watch Runner copying my moves. I pull myself down and press my stomach against the rock’s smooth surface. He pulls himself farther down too, then lets go and floats up. I twist my neck to keep an eye on him. His legs kick, his head is above the surface. Then he sticks his face underwater, looking where I am. I grin and wait. He’ll be nervous now. And then, he dives back down to check if I’m still alive. His black eyes are huge when he touches my cheek. I show him a broad smile and we rise to the surface together.
    He wipes the water off his face and gazes at me. Something is ticking in his head. He opens his mouth, closes it again, takes a deep breath, and then says, ‘I’ll be your student. I need to know how you can hold your breath for such a long time, how you swim and dive without producing noise. And you have to teach me how you swam across the swamp. I want to be able to use the water the way you do.’
    Here comes the strategist and effective killer. No more fear, only tactics. With a sudden shiver, I remember the night when he told me that he’s a sniper and a strategist, and that people call him The Executor . ‘I execute decisions and people,’ he’d said. No doubt he will learn to use the water to his best advantage.
    ‘It’s all about trust. Trust me now. Then learn to trust the water. Ready?’
    He gives me a nod and I dive. The blurry underwater world is rushing past my vision. The turbulences produced by the waterfall and the bubbles of air are tickling my skin and give the impression of the pool tumbling this way and that. I grab a rock and search for Runner. He’s just behind me and right next to me a moment later. I point at my ears, pinch my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. He does the same, loses his grip, and floats up. I follow.  
    ‘The pressure on your ear drums can be equilibrated in two ways,’ I tell him. ‘You can pinch your nose shut and blow gently. Yeah, like this. Or you make a yawning movement at the back of your throat. I prefer the latter, because it’s gentler on the ears and I have both hands free.’
    Now, it’s he who dives first. I watch him hold on to a rock for a long moment, then he comes up again. ‘I think I got it. What’s next?’
    I grin. ‘If you feel somewhat comfortable with diving, we dive all the way through the waterfall and to the other side. The waterfall will force you down and you’ll lose your orientation if you don’t focus on swimming straight through. I’ll be right at your side. Ready?’
    He assesses the distance, and nods. He doesn’t look at me.  
    ‘One. Two. Three,’ I say, inhale deeply and we jump together. I dive next to