Occasional pieces of luggage and backpacks. I watched the body float up, bouncing against the ceiling once before floating past the door and out of the chambers I was in.Įach of the chamber floors had been littered with cheap folding chairs, emergency supplies, and various sundry items. Her leg was lacerated, she was probably in a lot of pain during her final moments. The important part was the body of the woman which floated free, trailing brownish particles of mostly congealed blood. With a rush of bubbles the pump moved once, and then twice, and then stopped. I leveraged my axe into the area with the piston, allowing me to crank it upwards. Here! It looked like one of the large pistons was jammed, I had no idea how the woman got in this position, and why nobody helped her.
CPY SHADOW OF THE TOMB RAIDER CRACK LOST CONNECTION FREE
Maybe, I could free her leg?īetter than just leaving the body down here to rot and float up piecemeal.
Her leg was stuck between two heavy pieces of machinery. She had evidently been trapped by accident, probably in the confusion to flee as the chambers flooded. With a few kicks I reached the body, it was a woman. Since I had a ready source of air I decided a little investigation wouldn’t be remiss. I took my final breath and dived down, swimming deeper, I spotted a body far below on the floor of the room. No, the best course of action was to continue exploring the watery interior. I might puncture the duct’s wall to climb down somewhere and die in the subsequent flooding. These in themselves weren’t an issue since I had my climbing axe, however, the bunker was also flooded, and I wouldn’t know what was on the other side of the duct. It was more likely that this duct, being located in a building with extensive depth, incorporated multiple long vertical passages. On one hand, it was relatively dry, on the other hand, ducts aren’t like in movies where there’s completely composed of horizontal stretches. Momentarily I debated with myself whether attempting to climb up the vents was a good idea. This jaunt had all the hallmarks of being a particularly dangerous dive. I spent another few moments breathing in and out, cycling air through my body. I took a deep breath and immediately coughed. I popped my head inside the duct and confirmed my hopes. I jammed my axe into the spot and twisted, the cover popped off and sunk to the floor below. Part of the duct’s cover blazed with yellow light under my voluntary hallucination. I slipped into survival instincts, the world was tinged in greyscale, which didn’t make much of a difference since underwater things were pretty dull already. I tugged with my hands, it didn’t give, the black spots flickered across my vision. My fingers curled around the tines of the duct’s cover. With the way water pressure worked, it was probably an air pocket. A ventilation duct located on the ceiling. Wait! I arrested my downwards swimming and swam towards my airy salvation. However, the way it was constructed once the doors were open, then the flooding would take up every available space. If the huge steel blast doors had not each reached all the way to the ceiling of the room then there would’ve been numerous ready-made air pockets when the place flooded. Most had apparently escaped or floated upwards. Instead, it was diagonal, several levels of large rooms, each which had been jam-packed with people once. The time I took to reach this depth was compounded by the fact that it wasn’t a straight down dive. This was the kind of depth that few free-divers braved, save for long experienced pearl divers. I was swiftly approaching forty meters down, which I could tell by the tightness around my lungs, and the black spots starting to dance in my vision. Thirty seconds was an eternity when you were underwater. Even a few moments to breathe deeply would’ve extended my supply of air by maybe thirty seconds. I had a ready source of knowledge regarding the inside structure and where any air pockets might be, but I decided to charge in half-cocked and without sufficient preparation. The point being, I might’ve made a mistake. I regularly went much deeper, sometimes approaching the limit to the depths that were possible for the human body to survive. The pressure gets strong, very strong when you get past 4 meters. Most people underestimate exactly how strong you need to be to dive deep. I was no stranger to swimming and more importantly a strong diver. I hadn’t hyperventilated to build oxygen in my blood, so I’d be lucky to get maybe five. The Guinness world record for longest breath was twenty-two minutes and some seconds. With dedicated effort, time upwards of three minutes can be reached. Others with slightly more training can extend that length to two to three minutes.
Most untrained divers can only hold their breath for thirty seconds, and then the urge to gasp overcomes them. AN: Some aspects of diving and breath holding are misleading in this chapter.
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