Post-Human 05 - Inhuman by David Simpson Page B

a small, relatively level surface for them to get James on his back. It would be then that the desperate attempt to revive him could begin.
    “The water’s cold,” the A.I. said in a low tone, just above a whisper, as he continued to struggle in the cold surf. The traumatized trio were only a couple of meters from the outcrop. “That is a blessing. It should buy us a little extra time to get him breathing again, before the damage to his brain is irreversible.”
    Thel reached the shore first, and she clawed at the jagged rocks with her fingers, dragging her exhausted, bruised body up and out of the water. Once she was in a sitting position, the A.I. pushed James’s back and forced him up, allowing Thel to pull him further. She scrambled to her feet and pulled James the rest of the way out, grunting with the exertion, before placing him on his back. “What do we do?” she urgently asked the A.I., keeping her voice as low as possible.
    “Turn his head to the side. Let any water in his nose or mouth drain out.”
    She knelt behind James’s head and propped it up before turning it to the left side for a moment and then turning it to the right. The rain had become a downpour, and it was difficult to tell if anything was draining from him at all. “Now what?”
    “We have to get air past anything that is clogging his airway so it can enter the lungs,” said the A.I. as he pinched James’s nose. “Breathe strongly into his mouth four times, as much air as you can give him, with as much force as you can muster.”
    “Will it work?”
    “It’s a very old method from before people had nans,” the A.I. replied. “But it’s our only chance, and his only chance. Do it now.”
    Thel nodded and began breathing into James’s mouth. Each time she puffed, James’s cheeks expanded, but his chest didn’t rise.
    “I don’t think it’s getting through!” she exclaimed.
    “Shh. We must keep our voices low,” the A.I. replied calmly. He pushed James onto his side and began hitting him hard on the back, in an attempt to get water out of his passageways. “We’ll repeat the cycle until he breathes again.” He let James fall back again, making sure to protect his head before pinching his nose a second time. “Do it.”
    Thel breathed hard four more times.
    Again, James’s chest remained still.
    She pulled up and put her shaking hand to her forehead. “Oh my God. It’s not working,” she realized, hope draining rapidly. “We’ve lost him.”
    The A.I. pounded on James’s chest.
    On the third try, James appeared to splutter, and a small quantity of water bubbled past his lips.
    “James? Can you hear me?” the A.I. asked before turning his ear to James’s mouth to listen for breathing. He looked up at Thel and shook his head. “We have to try again,” he said, quickly pinching his nose.
    Thel breathed into his mouth hard, four more times.
    James’s ribcage seemed to rise and fall.
    The A.I. put his ear to James’s mouth and kept his palm lightly on James’s chest.
    “Is he breathing?” Thel asked in an urgent whisper.
    The A.I. met her eye for a split second before his eyes filled with terror. Thel had just enough time to turn her head before a hand grasped her hair and pulled her violently away, impossibly fast. Before the A.I. could even get to his feet, Thel had been taken into the dark forest, completely vanishing into the black.

9

    WAKING UP, seemingly from the dead, Old-timer sent a bolt of terror through both Rich and Djanet as they watched him sit straight up.
    Rich shrieked.
    Djanet turned from Old-timer, her shock at his resuscitation not enough to prevent her from raising an eyebrow at Rich’s reaction.
    Rich caught his breath and placed his palm on his chest. “I know,” he said, nodding in acknowledgment. “Not the most attractive sound I’ve ever made. But that,” he continued, pointing at Old-timer, “… that was unexpected. We thought you were dead for sure.”
    Old-timer stood to