There is a limping figure, coming toward Perry, and he hopes they can’t swim. He pushes against the edge of the pool with the tip of his distant toe and the float drifts him toward the center. He has just enough energy to pick up one of the cans of Eagle Light, but he can’t snap it open at first. It takes a good minute, or maybe three hours, before he pops it open and presses it to his lips. The first sip of alcohol brings him back to reality, and his eyes brim with tears once more. Perry remembers himself, as he looks around at all he’s done. All he needed was a sip of alcohol this whole time.
There is a woman, half naked in her underwear, or maybe a uniform, hunched over by the side of the pool. Her bare ankle is bruised, bleeding and kind of crooked. Perry knows her. Oh, Perry knew her, back in the "Great Before." She’s Perry’s ex, the girl who was sending him letters in '04, blaming him for not giving a fuck, for introducing her to the sweet, sweet candy before getting sober, abandoning her and responding to the call of duty. Emmy’s holding a pistol, a cowboy shooter, painted red.
“I know you,” she says softly. “You’re a good guy, I know you…” she says, her voice trailing off to somewhere better. Perry would like to believe her. The raft rotates and the woman, the survivor, slips out of view.