Deep Down (Sam Stone Book 1)

by Worth, Janean

  Stone was wheezing, his pupils virtually gone from sight they’d constricted so tightly, and his lips were deeply tinged with an unhealthy blue-gray color.

  Giving one last violent cough, Stone collapsed onto his side, his hands to his chest, grasping at his own flesh much as she had done earlier.

  As his eyes rolled back in his head, Jenny pulled the inhaler from her pocket and shook it three times, flicking the cap off in one smooth motion. She crammed it between his teeth and pushed down.

  “Breathe in, Stone. Breathe!” she yelled at him, hoping he could still hear her.

  In response, there was a rattling wheeze as he attempted to draw in some air.

  Jenny took the inhaler away from his mouth, uncertain that she’d done the right thing. It was her inhaler, after all, and not meant for him. What if the meds harmed him in some way?

  And it didn’t seem to be helping anyway. Stone still couldn’t breathe.

  Behind her, she could hear footsteps, but she didn’t pause to see who it was. Unless it was a doctor, there was no one who could help Stone now but her. She leaned down and pinched his nose closed as she fitted her lips over his. If he couldn’t breath in enough to inhale the medication, she’d have to do it for him.

  Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she blew it into his mouth as hard as she could. She felt her own irritated lungs protest at the pressure, but she didn’t care. This was Stone. He was her life and she be damned if she was going to let him die without fighting to save him. She’d give him her own last breath if he needed it.

  Stone still didn’t seem to be able to draw in a breath on his own, so Jenny blew more air into his lungs. Repeating the process again and again.

  On the third breath, she felt Stone’s mouth twitch under hers, and then a soft puff of air expelled from his mouth. She sat up and looked at his face for any signs of consciousness.

  His eyes were closed, so she pried open a lid, then watched in amazement as the pupil in his eye expanded quickly back to its normal size. He drew in a tiny, shallow breath on his own.

  Stone reached up and removed her hand from his face, then blinked his eyes at her. He drew in a great wheezing breath and then attempted to sit up.

  He was so weak from lack of oxygen that Jenny had to help him. In moments, Gilbert was kneeling at his other side, helping Jenny get him into an upright position.

  “Never seen anything like that, Stone. What is going on with you two? Do you both have asthma?”

  Stone shook his head, and Jenny could tell that he was still unable to talk.

  “Stone doesn’t have asthma. Only I do. There’s something else going on here.”

  Gilbert’s forehead creased into a worried frown. “Something else? Like what?”

  “Did your food taste weird?” Jenny whispered as Debbie joined them, kneeling close by Gilbert’s side.

  Debbie shook her head, “No, why? Did yours?”

  “Yeah, but I thought it was just the meds from the inhaler messing with my sense of taste,” Jenny said.

  One of the security guards stepped in close and Jenny was grateful to see him, thankfully noting that he was not the one who had held the kid at gunpoint earlier.

  “We need to leave. I’m taking my fiancé to the ER. Can you arrange for a lift operator? And maybe some help to get him to the lift?” Jenny asked the man.

  Stone’s hardhat had fallen to the hard-packed saltcrete floor when he’d passed out, and Debbie reached over to pick it up and put it back onto his head.

  When the security guard did not answer her right away, Jenny stood up and faced him, one eyebrow arched in question.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that,” the guard finally said after a long pause.

  “Why not? Surely there is some protocol for emergencies here? I know the lift operator is down here somewhere. Surely he can authorize an emergency use of the lift? And, you’ve got a radio. Please use it to have someone call for an ambulance to meet us when we get up to the surface.”

  “I don’t… need…” Stone wheezed heavily as he attempted to talk. “… an… ambulance.”

  Jenny could hear the pain in his voice, and she knew without a doubt that he was feeling the exact same pain in his lungs as she had earlier. She’d thought it was asthma, but there was obviously something wrong with the air down here if Stone, who was normally so healthy, was also having trouble breathing.

  “Even if he doesn’t need an ambulance, we’re still leaving,” Jenny told the guard. “Please get the lift operator.”

  The guard’s face suffused with color, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to ask you all to return to your seats.”

  He cast a meaningful glance at Stone as he said the word ‘all’.

  Jenny felt stunned. The man had just witnessed Stone’s collapse, and still they couldn’t get an emergency ride out of the mines? What kind of place was this museum?

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” Jenny said firmly, looking the guard right in the eye. “He needs to get to a hospital.”

  The guard’s face darkened even more, and he reached over and rested a hand upon the gun in the holster at his hip, as if to draw her attention to it. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist as well.

  “Now, wait just a minute,” Gilbert interjected, rising to face the guard and leaving Stone propped up against the wall with only Debbie to support him.

  Jenny was glad to see that Stone seemed to have recovered enough so that he didn’t slide back over onto the saltcrete floor.

  “There’s no need to threaten her. She’s right. Our friend needs medical attention. He needs to leave. And, in fact, I think our entire group will be leaving now as well. I don’t like how we’re being treated,” Gilbert’s round face was red with angry color, and though he was several inches shorter than the guard, the guard took a step back at this exhibit of anger.

  Jenny was impressed at Gilbert’s courage. The guard was still fingering his weapon, and Gilbert was yelling at the man as if the implied threat didn’t matter.

  Because of the close call she’d had with a violent aggressor, Jenny had spent hours and hours in self-defense classes, and she knew that the guard’s threatening manner did, in fact, mean something. As did his strangely nervous demeanor. Something was not right here.

  Stone’s wheezing had lessened, and he now rose slowly to his feet behind her despite Debbie’s protests that he should remain seated. His heavy hand came to rest on her shoulder and he stepped forward toward the guard, moving in front of both her and Gilbert.

  Jenny saw his eyes take in the guard’s stance, measuring the situation, then he sighed.

  “I’m fine. Let’s do as the man says and return to our seats,” Stone said.

  Jenny saw relief flicker across the guard’s face and his nervous posture relaxed just a bit.

  Gilbert began to protest, but Stone turned and placed his other hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “I’m fine. Let’s talk at the table.”

  Gilbert eyes widened almost imperceptivity, and then he glanced at the guard, then back at Stone. Jenny could see the exact moment when he came to same conclusion that both she and Stone had just come to. The guard would shoot them if he felt that he had to.

  The question was, why? They’d only asked to go to the hospital.

  Chapter Six

  Laramy Gray felt itchy and jumpy. His skin felt as if it were breaking out in hives under his clothing, but when he pulled up his shirt and looked for the telltale red bumps, there was nothing there. His skin was smooth and white, just as it always was.

  Every little sound in the dining cavern seemed amplified and too loud to Laramy’s ears. He wasn’t usually so sensitive to sound. At home, he frequently had his stereo blaring out his favorite tunes so loudly that his mother had to ask him to turn it down. But now the noise seemed so intense that it was beginning to make his head ache.

  Laramy tried to pay attention to the dinner theater
actors, but his throat had also begun to feel tight and he was finding it hard to breathe past the strange constriction in his airway.

  Darn allergy pill I took must not have worked too well, he thought.

  He took several large gulps of his water to tamp down the urge to cough so that he wouldn’t interrupt the actors. He was in enough trouble already without being disruptive. His mother had been very upset with him when the security guard had escorted him back to the table and explained that Laramy had been ‘tampering’ with a museum exhibit, conveniently leaving out the fact that he’d drawn a gun on Laramy.

  Laramy had tried to explain that he had not tampered with anything, but neither his mother nor the guard had listened to his explanation. He hadn’t been tampering. He’d simply gone in for a closer look. Besides, what was the harm? The case was obviously just a prop. He knew from Science class that bacteria were only single-celled organisms, so it wasn’t as if he’d have been able to see “Ed” with his naked eye anyway. Still, the slide had looked clean when he’d checked it out up close. Shouldn’t there have been a smear of something on the slide if a living bacteria were on it? Didn’t bacteria need to eat too?

  Laramy’s throat constricted suddenly with a stronger urge to cough, taking his mind off of the earlier scene with the security guard, but he held back the cough with effort and gulped down more water.

  Man, I’m going to have to tell mom that I need different allergy pills as soon as she’s not so mad at me. The ones I’ve been taking aren’t doing a thing for me tonight.

  Irritated at the failure of the pills, his urge to cough, and the whole darn situation, he gave up trying not to scratch, and vigorously dug his fingernails into the skin of his upper arm, scratching at the bone-deep itch that prickled invisibly just under the skin. The whole evening had been a waste, as far as he was concerned. He knew that his mom had wanted him to come and have a good time because she was always saying that they didn’t spend enough time together anymore, but, c’mon, a murder mystery Christmas-themed dinner theater? Lame!

  He’d have rather stayed at home and played Oblivion with his online friends. Not that the actor wasn’t funny – the guy was hilarious – but Laramy preferred online gaming to in-person performances. And, besides, he’d almost beat level eight in the game, and sitting here with his mom wasn’t going to get him to level nine now was it?

  As he watched the actor pirouette around the room in a ridiculous looking tutu while continuing his parody of the Sugarplum Fairy, Laramy suddenly had the strangest urge to scream. Not just figuratively, like people often said, but a real, out-loud, yell-at-the-top-of-his-lungs scream. He held back the urge that welled up in is throat and scratched at his itching skin hard enough to draw blood.

  He felt that he either needed to scratch or scream, and since his mom was already mad at him for disturbing “Ed” and would be even angrier at him if he started screaming now, he continued to scratch, ignoring the blood.

  Chapter Seven

  Stone tottered unsteadily ahead of her as they walked back to the table, and Jenny could tell that he was still weak from the strange coughing attack that had overcome him. This telltale sign of his weakness frightened Jenny. Stone was never weak. Ever. It was one of the first things that she had admired about him.

  Stone was built like a bull, all thickly muscled chest and bulging biceps. And they’d been dating long enough that Jenny knew the man had a constitution that matched the strength of his substantial muscles. He could eat as much as he wanted and never gain weight. He could venture into a sick room, yet never get sick. He had no allergies or sensitivities to anything at all. His eyesight was perfect. His blood pressure was perfect. He health was always perfect.

  When they’d first begun dating, this healthy perfection comforted her. Jenny’s father had recently had to deal with a spate of heart problems, so Stone’s extreme health made her feel safe. It was safe to love him as deeply as she did, because, with his extremely healthy constitution, there was no danger of him dying and leaving her alone and bereft without him.

  Now, as she saw the way he wove dizzily back to his seat, she felt a pang of fear worse than any she’d ever suffered. The illusion that Stone was invincible burst like a thin bubble in her mind’s eye, and she suddenly felt unreasonably terrified that she’d lose him. She had to get him to a doctor – had to get him out of the museum – before whatever it was that had affected him this way caused any more damage.

  She’d thought it was the air, but the dining cavern, filled with over one hundred visitors, was fairly quiet at the moment. She heard no violent coughing as she and Stone took their seats. Those who had been coughing earlier had quieted.

  Perhaps it had been the food? But if it was the food, why did it seem that no one else was experiencing any symptoms?

  Jenny sat close to Stone, reaching over to take his wrist in her hand so she could place two fingers upon his pulse and count his heartbeats. As she counted, she peered at Debbie’s eyes closely. The woman’s pupils were normal.

  Jenny stared hard at Gilbert, ignoring his questioning expression when he caught her gaze on him. Gilbert’s pupils were normal too. So were Alice’s. As were the pupils in both Paul’s and Cheryl’s eyes. None of them had pinpoint pupils. And they’d eaten the same food and were breathing the same air.

  Alice leaned forward, her manner secretive, and Jenny noticed now the anxiety sketched across her lovely face. Alice’s perfectly arched brows were wrinkled into a frown.

  “The tour guide was here while you were all in the tunnel,” she whispered. “The guide said that there has been some sort of malfunction with the lift, and that we may be down here a bit longer than they’d originally planned. She said that they’d used the radios to call in a specialist to fix it, but they have no idea when he’ll arrive. Until then, nobody leaves.”

  Jenny felt a jolt of horror shoot along her spine. Without a working lift, they were well and truly trapped underground in the mines. As were the hundred or so other people. And Stone still needed medical care. Jenny shuddered. She could almost feel the millions of tons of heavy earth pressing down upon them.

  Under her finger, Stone’s pulse leapt. To her surprise, the broken lift seemed to bother him as well.

  Stone was not easily bothered by such things.

  “If that’s the case, then why didn’t the security guard just tell us that?” Stone asked.

  Jenny felt her heart’s tempo increase even more. She now shared Stone’s suspicion. Yes, why hadn’t the guard told them that?

  Now that Alice had shared the tour guide’s instructions, Jenny realized why the room had been so silent when they’d entered. The other patrons in the room were all equally upset. They were no longer having a good time. They weren’t talking in animated and cheerful streams of conversation.

  The actor’s performance had been stopped and the silence was stretching thin now. It hung unnaturally in the heavy, oddly scented, pumped-in air. In a room of over a hundred people, who had gathered together for a night of food and fun, there should be jovial conversation and at least a little laughter. There was none.

  Several minutes passed, and the small group at Jenny’s table shared in the silence, looking at each other with apprehension. Jenny had stopped counting Stone’s heartbeats, and now clutched his wrist in fear.

  Jenny began to feel a pressure in her chest again, and almost broke the silence by groaning aloud. Not again. She could not have another asthma attack - or whatever it had been. Not now. Not when she knew that there was no way to leave if she needed medical attention. Panic skated across her thoughts. What if she and Stone both had attacks again? What if the inhaler didn’t work this time?

  She took a shallow breath to calm herself, closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened them, she felt a bit calmer, although that could have been due to the fact that Stone’s breathing was now back to normal and one hundred percent wheeze-free. Or maybe it was because he’d taken her hand in his while her eyes
were closed and was now squeezing her fingers reassuringly.

  Inside the calmness, she realized that this pressure in her lungs was different. It was not an asthmatic reaction, it was simply that the air felt heavier. Thicker. Denser somehow.

  “Do you feel that?” she whispered, looking at Debbie for an answer.

  Debbie nodded slowly. Yes.

  Alice’s eyes had grown even larger in her pale face. “The air feels strange,” she whispered.

  Jenny was looking at Alice when the girl’s pupils constricted quickly, the black center growing so small as to be barely visible. Alice began to cough.

  For a moment, Jenny just stared. Then she leapt from her chair and moved to Alice’s side. The girl, who was sitting right beside Stone, progressed quickly into gasps for air. It only took a moment for Jenny to wrench the inhaler from her pocket, remove the cap and shake it, but in that short time, Alice’s face had gone chalk white and her lips had begun to loose natural color. The girl’s eyes looked odd, almost alien with their nearly absent pupil, as they stared up at Jenny. She tipped Alice’s head back and administered a shot of the inhaler, hoping that the girl could inhale the atomized medication into her own lungs and would not need assistance as Stone had.

  Alice gasped and wheezed, straining with effort, and Jenny leaned the girl back in her chair so that she didn’t fall to the floor. Beside her, Stone put a large hand upon Alice’s shoulder to keep her from sliding out of the chair.

  After several tense moments, with Alice wheezing and gurgling and gasping loudly, she was able to gulp in a breath of air. Seconds later, her pupils expanded back to a more normal size.

  Jenny shared a meaningful look with Stone, knowing that he’d seen the effect too.

  As Alice drew in another deep breath, a man several tables away stood up hastily, knocking his chair back so that it screeched upon the floor.

  “What in the hell is going on here? Three people at that table have had coughing fits in the last few minutes. Is there an illness that we should all…“