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«Tighe looked toward Abarca again. Her eyes were still on him. They were the last two candidates underwater.
Screw it.
His lungs screaming, Tighe swam for the sunlight. He broke the surface and sucked for air, grabbing the buoy line.
Several people around him were coughing and gasping for breath.
Tighe looked down and saw the rescue divers move toward Abarca—but she waved them away. They circled her like sharks. She looked upward.
Another voice nearby: “Christ, is she still down there?”
In a few moments, Abarca swam toward the surface, and as she emerged she took a deep, controlled breath.
The coordinator blew the whistle. “All candidates accounted for!”
Abarca didn’t look particularly affected by the exercise. She noticed Tighe’s look. “This sea level air is like a meal to me.”»