“I wish we had something stronger. I guess we’ll know for next time.”
He gave her a funny look. “Do you really think there will be a next time?”
She laughed. “No, I guess not.”
“So where is our Mr. Anderssen? Did you put him to work somewhere?”
“No, he’s napping, thankfully. I don’t think he got any sleep last night.” Flora was worried Thor might have a concussion, but it didn’t much matter. If he did, there wasn’t anything she could do for him.
“I’m not surprised. I wasn’t exactly quiet.” Archie’s face reddened.
She squeezed his hand. “You were amazing. You’re a survivor, Archie. Thor is going to fix this ship tonight, and then you’re going to go home to see Marie and your kids. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like a dream.”
“You should get some rest now. The more healing time you can give that leg, the more you’ll improve your chances.”
She was almost at the door before he stopped her. “Apostolos left, didn’t he?”
Flora dreaded seeing her sadness mirrored on Archie’s face, but she wasn’t about to lie to him. “Yes, this morning. After sunrise.”
Archie nodded. “That’s what he told me he would do. The man always did believe in keeping his word. He came to say goodbye to me, you know.”
“I wish he’d said goodbye to me.” More tears fell before she could stop them.
“I don’t think he wanted you to see him that way. He already”—Archie swallowed hard—“didn’t look like himself.”
“I could have handled it.”
“It wasn’t a matter of whether or not you could handle it. He wanted to protect you. No matter what, we were his crew, and the man always took care of his crew.”
“Then why did he come to see you?”
“He said he had to apologize. He felt bad about my leg, he said, and hoped I could forgive him. I told him he’d done nothing to be forgiven for.” He shook his head. “Apologizing for saving my life. Wasn’t that just like him?”
Flora remembered the man she’d once resented and feared in equal measure. No matter how bleak things were, the Greek had never failed to do what needed to be done.
She resolved to tell the world what kind of man he’d been. She only hoped she’d get the chance.
“Yes,” she said. “That was just like him.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
Thor would have laughed if his head weren’t in danger of cracking open. “Like I’d tell you if there was.” Tugging at the wetsuit, he pulled it over his stomach, chest, and shoulders. It wasn’t as much of a struggle as it used to be. He turned so Flora could zip him up. “If you’re this good at nagging now, by the time Zach’s a teenager, you’ll have driven him crazy.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but her face fell and he cursed his big mouth. “I’m sorry, Flora. That was tasteless. I know how much you miss him.”
“It’s not that. I don’t mean to be a nag, but what if something happens to you? We need you.”
Her dark eyes dominated her pale face, which had become more angular with each passing week. Thor wasn’t the only one who had dropped a few pounds. “But you don’t. You now know as much about running this ship as I do.” As Apostolos had predicted, she hadn’t had any trouble mastering the controls.
She snorted, but he could see from her smile that the compliment pleased her. “Hardly.”
“I saw Archie, and he looks great—much better than I expected. But you know as well as I do he’s going to need more than aspirin to get through this. I can’t put this off any longer. Believe me, if I thought there was another option, I would take it.”
“One more day wouldn’t make a difference,” she said in that stubborn way of hers, but he could see the mention of Archie had swayed her a little.
“Are you willing to bet his life on it?” Knowing what her answer would be, Thor walked to the side of the ship and lowered himself onto the metal ladder. Lingering a moment, he held on to the top rung, not quite ready to let go.
“Be careful,” she said, and he nodded, admiring the midday sun caught in her hair, the dark curls gleaming with gold.
“How’s your friend?” The memory of what lurked beneath gave Thor the creeps. After this, he wouldn’t venture near the ocean for a long, long time—if ever.
“Keeping his distance, as promised.”
He wanted to ask if she thought the creature was trustworthy, but knew there was no point. They had to trust it, whether or not that was the wisest course of action.
Flora leaned over the side and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “Take care of yourself.”
“This isn’t goodbye. I have no intention of dying down there.” Still, his voice was shaky. He returned her embrace as best he could with one arm, patting her on the back. “Well, this isn’t going to get any easier. I’m off.”
He concentrated on the ladder for the rest of the way down, afraid to see the concern in her eyes. Out of everyone, she had the closest link to the creature, so why was she worried? His focus had to be on the ship, so he pushed the fear out of his mind and slipped into the crystal-clear waters.
It took a special kind of insanity to fix a boat while it was still in the water, but he’d always liked the challenge. He could easily imagine himself in space, tinkering with the ISS in zero gravity.
A few curious tropical fish—mostly striped sergeant majors and French grunts—flittered about his legs and facemask, not scared in the least by the breathing tube. He waved them away so he could concentrate. Within ten minutes, he’d repaired the damaged cable, and his heart slowed to its normal rhythm.
The leak was a different story, but he’d spent many hours lying in bed visualizing it over the last couple of days. He was confident he could repair it without having to break for another oxygen tank. Thor climbed high enough on the ladder to give Flora an update.
“How’s it going down there?”
“So far, so good. The cable’s fixed, but that was the easy part. Let’s hope the same goes for the leak.”
“Maybe—maybe you should leave that for another day.”
He sighed, sounding more exasperated than he meant to. “We talked about this before. We don’t have time. Archie could take a turn for the worse at any moment.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a broken record. It’s just—well, it’ll sound silly, but I have a bad feeling.”
Hesitating on the ladder, he felt his heart kick into second gear again. “Is it your friend?”
“No, all’s quiet there. This is something else. Or it might be nothing. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I’m not feeling good about this. It would be great if you could finish tomorrow morning.”
“We have no idea what the weather conditions will be like tomorrow. This is perfect—you couldn’t ask for a calmer day. I’ve been thinking about that leak a lot, and I think I could have it repaired in ten minutes. Just ten minutes, Flora.”
Reaching forward, he squeezed her hand with his glove, which was damp with seawater. She didn’t pull away. “Are you with me?” he asked. “Only ten minutes.”
“If you see that it’s going to take longer, will you come in?”
He considered her request. More than anything, he wanted to get the job done when the waters were calm. Repairing the leak would be impossible in a rough sea. But he agreed. Maybe it was paranoia, but it didn’t take a genius to see Flora was genuinely scared. It was worth waiting a few hours if it set her mind at ease.
“Please be careful, Thor.” She leaned her head over the side to watch him as he slipped into the water.
He grinned at her before inserting the respirator. “You worry too much.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Waking from my mid-afternoon nap, I felt more relaxed than I had since this nightmare began. Everything was peaceful in the lai
r for a change. If this was the price we had to pay for denying our son, it was more than worth it. Perhaps we should punish him more often, but only if he agreed to give us the silent treatment again.
Ah, bliss. Sweet bliss.
Gliding out of the den I shared with my wife, I was startled to find her in the main part of our lair. This area of our home featured the most brightly colored coral and was where we entertained. It was also where the humans’ drill had broken through, but nature had swiftly repaired the puncture as existing plant life grew to fill the space. You couldn’t even see the damage now. I was pleased we’d been able to protect our reef.
“Good afternoon, dearheart.”
She regarded me, her face slack with boredom. “How was your nap?”
“Most refreshing, thank you. I’m surprised to find you here alone. Did you eat?”
“A little. Mostly what drifted by.” She scowled. “I’m not that hungry.”
This was cause for concern. I couldn’t recall the last time my wife had lost her appetite.
“Where’s The Boy?” I asked, looking around. I realized that our lair was indeed peaceful—too peaceful, even with my son sulking and my wife disgruntled.
My wife flicked her tail. “I haven’t seen him yet today.”
“This is getting ridiculous. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You’ll only make him angrier.”
“That’s not my intention, but letting it pass isn’t doing us any good. He’ll hold this grudge until the next millennium.”
Before she could argue, I rushed to my son’s cave with fear growing in my gut. Spoiled, spoiled child. How dare he do this to his mother?
I barged into his filthy den, fully expecting to find him there, lounging about with that pouty expression that had become all too familiar lately.
It took a minute for it to register that he wasn’t in the room.
The cave was empty.
A second later, a razor-edged scream pierced my brain.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Flora scanned the ocean. No matter how many deep breaths she took, she couldn’t quiet her nerves. There was something wrong, but what? Frustrated, she shook her head to clear it. The ocean gave her no answers. It was calm—perhaps too calm. When was the last time she’d seen a dolphin, or a whale? Even the schools of tiny fish that clustered near the ship hoping for handouts were absent today.
She let her mind wander into the ocean to the depths below. There was no response, no sensation that anything had received her signal. Dread leaned on her shoulders, making it hard to breathe. She knew it was in her head—she was nervous about being alone on the ship; that was all.
But if she’d learned anything this past month, it was to trust her instincts.
Something burst out of the water.
She opened her mouth to scream, but it was only Thor, grinning around the respirator. He spit it out of his mouth and reached for the ladder. Rivulets of salt water streamed off his wet suit, giving him the sleek look of a seal. “It’s fixed,” he told her, as if his triumphant expression hadn’t already communicated the news. “At least, I think so. Just need to make sure the engine hasn’t been damaged, and then we’ll start her. Give it a try.”
Seeing her expression, he groaned. “What’s the problem? Did you get another message from your friend?”
“No, and that’s the problem. Everything’s too quiet. Haven’t you noticed? Even the fish are gone.” Her words tumbled over one another. She inhaled deeply, telling herself to calm down. Men did not respond well to panic, especially from women. They tended to write it off as hysterics. “I’ve been standing here, trying my best to convince myself this is in my head. But it isn’t, Thor. I’ve got a really bad feeling, and I think you should leave everything how it is for now. The leak is fixed, right?”
“Yeah, but the propellers are coated with gunk. It’ll take a minute for me to clean them. Easily ten minutes, twenty tops.” When she stayed silent, he sighed. “Come on, Flora. Don’t you want to go home?”
“Of course I do.” The words sounded angrier than she’d meant. “But I want both of us to go home. I’m afraid that if you go down there again, you’re not going to come back.”
“That’s what you said this morning, and yet I’m here, aren’t I?” His tone was teasing, and she nearly screamed with frustration.
“You also said it would take you ten minutes to fix the leak.” She’d been standing on the deck for at least half an hour, her heart in her throat. She’d felt every one of those minutes, and had aged accordingly.
“Sorry, Mom. Took longer than I thought.” He rolled his eyes, giving her a view of what Zach would become in another ten years.
Infuriated, she shoved his chest with such force that he nearly toppled off the ladder. His eyes widened. “Easy.”
“Go ahead and kill yourself, then. I should have known you wouldn’t listen to me. None of you ever did, and look where it got you. I thought things would be different now.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I always listened to you. You know that,” he said, sounding hurt. “I need to finish this, Flora. Archie doesn’t have much time. This isn’t just about us.”
“Archie would agree with me,” she said with conviction, though she wasn’t sure. Men tended to stick together.
“What difference is ten minutes going to make?”
“I don’t know. I told you—I don’t know what’s wrong. I only know that something is.”
“But what if you have that feeling again tonight? And tomorrow? And the week after that? What if a storm comes tomorrow?”
“Fine, go. You obviously have your mind made up.” She turned away from him, overwhelmed with sadness as she heard his flippers squeak on the metal ladder and his mask snap as he fitted it into place. Flora rushed to the side of the ship, wanting to plead with him one more time.
But it was too late.
All she saw was his hair, darkened from the water, swirling around his head as he plunged into the ocean.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Damn that woman. Damn her and her intuition.
Flora had gotten to him more than he liked to admit. She always did. And she was wrong about his not believing her. He’d listened to her from the very start, even when the other guys had mocked and taunted her. It bothered him that she didn’t recognize that. He’d have to talk to her that night, maybe after dinner. By then, she’d hopefully be in a better mood.
The thing to do now was finish cleaning the propellers. Everything else could wait.
Flora was right about the fish. They normally clustered around him as soon as he set foot in the water, but he couldn’t see a single one. Maybe a storm was coming.
The sensation something was watching him grew stronger. His pulse quickened.
Steady, Anderssen. Don’t be an idiot. You’re almost done.
His growing unease—and the urge to turn around to see what was causing it—was almost unbearable. His skin tightened along his spine until it felt like it didn’t quite fit. Squinting through the bubbles of his respirator, he brushed away the flakes of rust. Good enough. It will get us home. The company could worry about the damage.
He swam around the hull of the ship, staying close enough that barnacles caught one of his gloves and tore it open, scratching the skin beneath.
As a plume of blood flowed into the water from his injured finger, he knew the situation wasn’t good. Sharks could smell blood from an incredible distance, even miniscule amounts. He used his legs to propel him through the water, increasing his speed.
Thor heard something behind him. Turning his head, he saw something rushing toward him. It wasn’t a shark. He wasn’t sure what it was—some brownish-green horror with a face like a nightmare. Its jaws closed around his throat before he could scream.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I reached the ship as my son bit off the young mechanic’s head. As the man’s blood flooded the water, the geologist’s cries threatened to crush
my brain. My wife shrieked too. Both women directed their anguish at me, but only my wife’s thoughts were decipherable.
Don’t hurt him.
There wasn’t time to consider what she meant before our son turned to me, gloating in the kill, his eyes half-mad with bloodlust. Part of the young man’s arm hung from his jaws, and I winced as he swallowed.
Don’t tempt me, kid.
Draugen slipped behind me, but for once, I wasn’t afraid. I’d told The Boy again and again to stay away from the ship and the humans, but he didn’t listen.
He never did.
The woman was still screaming. I didn’t blame her this time. After all, I’d promised that her friend would be fine. I’d betrayed her. My family had betrayed her.
My son reared his head at me, flaunting his ugly neck in an attempt to make himself look bigger. I’d never been so disgusted, so ashamed of him, as I was then. He chewed on bits of the engineer, his acidic saliva doing the rest of the work, dissolving the scraps of flesh. Shreds of neoprene floated around us. In his bloodlust, my son ate some of those too.
“Go away, Father. This is none of your business. This is my ship. Mom promised me.”
“Let him go.”
A leg with a flipper attached disappeared down The Boy’s gullet. My son snarled at me, using words that should never be directed at one’s elders.
Whipping my tail around, I struck him across the chest. Black blood gushed from a dozen different wounds, and my son cried out in pain. Finally sensing the danger he was in, he moved away from the ship, swimming as well as he was able. My wife’s teeth closed around one of my fins, but I shook her off, growling. This should have been done long ago—I would not be responsible for bringing a monster into the world.
Before I went after him, I searched the now-murky water. The young man’s head was intact, his poor mouth agape in a scream of horror. A foggy mask hid his eyes, which I suspected was a blessing.
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