He stopped to tread water, only managing to keep his neck above water, muscles raw and screaming in dead fatigue. If only he could collect his thoughts for just a second, he could think of a way through it.
A wave comes and he's briefly swamped, spitting out the vile salt-tang of sea-life that threatens to steal his own. And another wave comes, and then a third. The muscles are worn out from their screaming - now they offer only quiet failure.
I just needed a second to gather my thoughts, he thinks as his eyes go blank and wide.
-M
