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This couldn't happen. He had to be wrong. Looked to see if her chest was moving.

"Was she facedown?"

Face up," Healey said. The detective was shivering but got a blanket and opened it up. Covered Alessandra's legs. "She was barely underwater. I don't think she's been in long."

Apparently it was long enough. He checked for a pulse. Weak but there. Dylan remembered his training. Two rescue breaths to start then one every five seconds along with chest compressions. First was stabilizing her neck. He got two towels and folded them before he put them on either side of her neck. He covered her nose and gave two breaths. Did the compressions.

Dylan was about to shout out orders, but by the looks of it, everyone knew what to do. All around them, the rain poured. Made him think of his brother. Keep pushing her chest. Another breath. This couldn't happen. Not again. He'd already failed to save Veronica Garcia. He couldn't lose another person.

Especially someone else he loved.

Another breath. Keep going with the compressions. Somehow she had another blanket around her now. He wished there was an AED around. Dylan stayed on autopilot. Someone else took over with compressions. Count to five. Breathe until her chest rose. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lights. The ambulance. Unfortunately, the nearest hospital was over ten minutes away.

"Don't stop," Dylan told the man.

He nodded. Kept pressing her chest. Dylan gave another breath. When he uncovered her nose and moved away, she coughed. He tried to keep her neck stabilized as he turned her to her side. Dylan frowned when he looked at the ground. Nothing but rainwater. That meant no food in her stomach. When she squeezed his hand, relief rushed through him.

Three EMT's walked over. One of them had a defibrillator.

"Her breathing's labored, but she just started doing it on her own," Dylan said. "She's probably dehydrated too. Also likely head trauma. She could use that."

The man held up the AED. "Can't use it wet," the man said. "And I'm not comfortable shocking a live person."

The woman put a brace around her neck followed by the bag valve mask. The other two men lifted her onto the board. The woman asked a bunch of questions that Dylan could only halfway answer.

He felt her hand again and looked down. "Help's here." Her eyes fluttered. She tried to speak, but Dylan put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, we got him."

An IV was now going in as they put her on the stretcher and rolled her to the open doors. As much as he hated to do it, he'd have to let go of her hand. She was lifted inside.

They'd just hooked her up to the monitors when the beeping started.

"She's hypotensive," the woman said. "Heart rate's increasing."

The man placed a mask over her face. Dylan recognized that too. A nonrebreather. The other man got a syringe and jammed it in the side of her thigh. Epinephrine.

The woman gave him another bag, and he added another IV.

"Push more fluids," the woman said.

The man was already on it. "I'm doing Atropine too. We need to get her dry. Don't want to shock her unless I have to."

Then the doors closed.

"Take care of her," Healey said. "We'll search that boat and nail his ass."

The ambulance sped off. Dylan was in his truck right after it.

An eternity passed before he arrived, but he finally got to the hospital. Thank God. Dylan ran over just in time to see the third EMT start to help bring the stretcher out. He half expected them to stop him, but Alessa was resisting the straps. Her eyes were wild.

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