He struck out, legs kicking and arms pulling for the other shack. The cold all around was not cold. It was pain. Hard, hammering pain setting his skin aflame. Knifing into his muscles. Reach out and grab a handful of water. Pull it back and reach for another. Training came back. Conditioning took over. The hours and days spent in ice cold water at Dam Neck and Coronado came back to him. The voices of instructors rang in his ears under the rhythm of his own pulse pounding in his ears. Pain is in your mind! Cold is nothing! Water is just air only thicker! Dropped in freezing pools and ice choked seas. Sometimes bound hand and foot. Sometimes naked. Sometimes weighed down with full gear. The shrieks of the instructors shouting from above reaching him through the fathoms of water. They called to him now from the past. Pain is a bitch.
