Guidance

[Corsair]

I slowed down enough to catch the water, and I sank rather quickly, now losing my control of direction. I span around in the water, until I struck the bottom of this lake, my lower half sunk up to the knees in the riverbed mud. My head stopped spinning enough that I could see the situation I was in. Bits of my motorcycle floated down past me. I was still terribly dizzy, and fumbled weakly with my legs, trying to pry them out of the mud. I remembered that I was wearing a rain suit that came off at the top. I fumbled with the catch and opened it. My lungs began to burn as I clawed my way out of it, and I inadvertently let out a gasp of air as I slid upward. I madly swam for the surface, my eyes closed tight because of all of the silt in the water. Looking back, I'm damn glad that I was swimming upwards, and not sideways.

I broke the surface, gasping for air. That wasn't the only noise, it was the surprised exclamations from behind me. I recognized the language as Ukrainian. What else would it be? "There he is! Get out of there, buddy! That lake's making the geiger counter go insane!"

I recognized the words, and, with my eyes still closed, pointed myself in that direction and began to swim with as much urgency as I could muster. I suppose I got near to the edge, because I could hear footsteps sloshing through the water, and feel them hauling me out of the water. They helped me to my feet, and assisted me in walking to their camp. I collapsed next to their fire, shivering, as night was approaching. One of the men offered me a pill and a syringe.

"Take the pill and inject that into your arm, and let's hope that you didn't get too badly hit by radiation."

I did as he said, feeling the stuff spread through me. Comfortably warm, but didn't feel nearly as relaxing as the shot of vodka I got afterwards. Priceless Ukrainian hospitality. "Tell us your story in the morning, comrade Skip."

Looks like Skip's my name after all.

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