Max- Swimming at 1,000m

  “How deep are we?” Nudge asked, her nose pressed against the thick glass.

  “Almost a thousand meters,” said Captain Perry. “More than three thousand feet. Not the deepest part of the ocean by any means but still deeper than most subs can go.”
...

  Before my head simply exploded from too much emotion, I hit the large button that pressurized the air lock enough for the doors to open to the ocean outside. I really, really hoped that I would prove to be somewhat uncrushable, like Angel did.

  The doors cracked open below me, and I saw the first dark glint of frigid water.

  Showtime, folks.
...

  THE ARTIFICIAL AIR PRESSURE in the chamber allowed me to drop down into the water. Want to hear something funny? I took a deep breath first. Then I remembered I didn’t have to.

  Then every thought went right out of my mind as I realized how totally completely beyond cold the water was at this depth. I gurgled out my best underwater shriek, realized I hadn’t been crushed yet, and began to swim toward the light.

  I was hoping it was the sub’s floodlights and not the lights of the afterlife, like I’d already just died and didn’t realize it and now I was swimming toward, well, I guess not heaven, even on a good day, but someplace lighter than the other option at least. Then I realized that if I was already dead, I wouldn’t feel like a bird-kid-cicle, so cold that every tiny movement was incredibly painful. So that cheered me up.

  At this depth, even though I hadn’t been crushed, it was still shockingly hard to swim, to move, to get anywhere. It was like paddling through Jell-O or in slow motion, and there was a lot of weight pressing in on me on all sides. It didn’t feel good, and I wondered how long my body would hold out.

- MAX: A Maximum Ride Novel, chapters 68, 71 and 72