A dry escape

As peaceful as some rivers may seem from above, the lives of the fish that call them home would often be rather hectic, and such was currently the case for two fish in particular. A yellow perch frantically swam along the river, followed closely by a northern pike that intended to make a meal of him! The perch had gotten lucky so far, barely managing to dodge each of the attempted bites, but he knew this wouldn't last, and he had to think of something quickly. The chase had taken the two to a part of the river the perch wasn't as familiar with, and there didn't seem to be any places with the right size for him to fit in while also being too small for the pike, but as the perch noticed a side path, he took off down it and hoped for the best, that maybe it could at least slow down his pursuer. The pike smirked at this, and slowed to a more casual pace. He knew more about this area than the perch, including the fact that this path simply led to a dead end, with nowhere to hide. Finally catching his prey would be trivial, now.
The perch darted through this narrow path, no part of it small enough that the pike wouldn't fit, soon rounding a turn to see a more open section with...Nothing. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and the only path back to the river proper simply leading to his death. Terrified and nearly hopeless, the perch swam out to the open area to await his fate. "Nowhere to run, now!", the pike taunted, not having even come around the corner yet and already knowing how screwed the perch was. "To be honest, I was about to give up on you before you went in here. You're hardly worth the effort at this point." They were visible, now, and stopped in the opening to block it. The perch at least attempted to distract them for a chance to escape, though he was already almost certain it wouldn't work; "O-oh god, there's a bird!" He yelled, swimming down to get away from the nonexistent threat.
"Pft, seriously? Even if there really was one, I eat them, I'm not afraid of them. Now, unless you feel like making another pathetic attempt to trick me, get over here so we can be done with this."
The perch still kept his distance, of course, but what could he even do? Going past the pike wasn't an option; even if he somehow got past them, they'd just be going back to the same chase as before. Looking up at the shimmering surface, he got an idea. A stupid idea, but it was his only option. He floated up to about the level of the pike and started taking deep breaths, water repeatedly rushing through his gills. It almost seemed as if he were preparing himself to rush past the pike, who was convinced that was what was happening. "Ugh, don't run away again, I'm sick of it." Then, the perch suddenly turned around and darted away toward the opposite wall, but at an upward angle, clearly not going for the wall itself. "What? Where are you...?" The perch ignored him, getting another gasp of water before shutting his mouth and gills, disappearing past the surface as he lept from the water! The pike was briefly stunned by this, having not even considered that his prey might have done this. "Wha- Seriously!?" He knew they'd gotten desperate, but to this degree?
The perch landed on the ground with a wet splat, instinctively trying to swim and flopping in place for a moment before remembering that wouldn't work here. His body wasn't made for this place; he couldn't breathe, couldn't swim, he could barely even see! He heard a noise behind him and looked back, struggling to focus his blurred vision and just barely making out the face of the pike sticking out of the water. "You'll have to come back eventually, I can wait!" Their voice was noticeably different, somewhat distorted by traveling through air instead of water. The pike then submerged again to await his meal's return.
They were right; he couldn't just stay here, but he certainly couldn't go back, either. He could really only keep moving away from the water, praying he'd find a pond or something he could stay in for a while. First, though, he had to figure out how to move. Attempting to swim would make him flop around, but where it moved him was too unpredictable. Dragging himself with his fins was possible, but it took a lot of effort to move at only a glacial pace. He settled on a combination of both methods; pushing himself into the air slightly and pulling himself forward before he landed again. It was still tough, but it seemed to be his best option, and with some discomfort forming in his gills, he didn't have time to figure out something else.
Flopping and flopping, the perch's landing splats soon turned to thuds as his body started to dry off. It didn't hurt, but it felt awful, and he was slowly getting overheated as the sun beat down on him. That wasn't a concern yet, though, and he was more concerned with his growing need to breathe. All the exertion was taking a lot of oxygen, and not even a minute since he left the water, he already started to strain. Still, the perch kept himself shut, trying his best to keep from losing what little water he was able to hold onto. He didn't manage it for much longer; his gills started to quiver, a bit of water slowly leaking out of them. Only needing one fin to direct himself, he held another against his gills on one side, at least able to reduce the amount of water he was now losing.
Just under 2 minutes since he'd left the water, the breathless fish could only barely manage to still hold on. Most of what water he'd taken with him in his body was gone, a purple blush forming on his face as he felt his gills starting to dry up. He paused for a moment, holding both sets of gills shut, then managed to compose himself enough to keep flopping and pulling himself. There was still no sign of any water around, and going back to the river wasn't even possible at this point. Even as he started to lose hope, the perch pressed on, his gills feeling like they were on fire from both the lack of usable oxygen and the little bits of air that would occasionally leak in and sting at them.
Too soon, he just couldn't do it any more. All the water he'd been holding had slipped through his gills, and his blush had turned blue. Pausing his flopping again, the perch arched his back as best as he could, his mouth opening wide and gills flaring with a loud gasp. The air went straight in his mouth and out his gills, achieving absolutely nothing but intensifying the burning of his gills. He panicked and tried to swim again, just aimlessly flopping about and continuing to heavily gasp, neither action accomplishing anything.
The "drowning" perch managed to somewhat compose himself after a few seconds and go back to his flopping and pulling, still panting as he felt himself weaken. His hops got shorter and shorter, soon not even leaving the ground any more, his body slowly going numb and vision getting even more blurry than before. "...hhhh....hhelp..." He managed to force out a weak cry, his voice hoarse and quiet. Now, without any strength left to move, he blearily stared forward, vision slowly dimming. Then, it faded to nothing, his mind following suit, unconsciousness taking him. 
At the very least, there wasn't any way the pike he'd escaped from would be able to eat him, now.