“I’d rather stay alive.” She heaved a ragged breath and dropped her forehead to his shoulder.
Ponytail Guy spoke again. “Perhaps if you don’t know where to find the drive, the pretty señorita has something to share with us.”
A deep laugh drew Ben’s attention to the trio on the other boat. The one in the center leered at Nikki. “I will get her,” he called to his boss. He laid his weapon down and started to peel off his shirt.
All the horrible things they might do to Nikki if they got hold of her flashed into his mind. Fear marched across his flesh, raising bumps in its wake. Apparently the same ideas occurred to Nikki, for she whimpered in his ear.
Ben looked back at Ponytail. “All right, you win. Give me your word that you’ll leave her alone, that you won’t harm either of us, and I’ll give you the device.”
White teeth flashed in the brown face. “You ask for my word? What makes you think I would keep it?”
His throat was so dry Ben barely managed to reply. “I figure even a drug dealer has enough pride to honor a bargain.”
The man’s head dipped forward in a mock bow. “I am touched by your trust. You have my word we will not touch you or the girl.” When he raised his head, his dark eyes glittered dangerously. “Now, give me the data.”
With slow movements, Ben unclipped the dive light from his BCD. Finding it had been something of a miracle, since he’d become convinced that the current had probably washed it away over the past several months. The thought had also occurred to him that another experienced diver might explore that cave, discover the crevice where he’d wedged it. But no, he found it in exactly the same place he had left it.
He raised the light out of the water and threw it football style. Ponytail snatched it out of the air. Cigarette dangling from his lips, he twisted off the head and tossed the bulb section into the water, then peered into the battery compartment.
“Very smart.” He commended Ben’s ingenuity with a half nod, then pulled the waterproof pouch from inside. The rest of the dive light followed the bulb section, and Ponytail flattened the vinyl bag. Ben caught sight of the black rectangle, no longer than his thumb, inside.
With a flick, the cigarette went flying into the waves. Ponytail turned and stepped from the dive platform onto the Alexandra’s deck, headed for the helm. A moment later, the motor revved to life. So did the second boat’s.
“Hey, wait a minute.” Ben gave his shout enough volume to be heard over the roar of two motors. “What are you doing? You can’t just leave us here. It’s too far to swim back to shore.”
The sound of the motor almost stole the man’s laughter. “Don’t worry. You won’t be swimming.”
That’s when Ben noticed the activity on the second boat. The men had put down their weapons. One untied the ropes that held the two boats together, while the other two bent to pick up…
Buckets?
Horror stole over him as he guessed the contents.
“No, wait!” Panic made his voice high, but he couldn’t help it. “We trusted you. You gave your word.”
Ponytail turned from the helm and slapped a hand to his chest. “I kept my word. I left her alone. I will not touch either of you.”
The water churned as he pushed the throttle forward, and the Alexandra sped away. Nikki turned toward him, fear warring with the questions on her face.
“He’s just going to leave us here, in the middle of the ocean?” Terrified tears choked her words.
At that moment, the two men tipped their buckets overboard. The contents splashed into the water, staining it red with blood. Chunks of fish guts and mangled flesh littered the surface. A second later, two more buckets full of chum followed.
Without a backward glance, the men sped away in the wake of the Alexandra, leaving Ben and Nikki alone in what would soon be shark-infested waters.
ELEVEN
“Is that blood?”
Her voice ended in a shriek, but Nikki didn’t care. She clutched at Ben as a wave brought the ominous red stain closer.
“Fish blood.” Ben sounded amazingly calm, though Nikki felt the tension in the muscles beneath her grip. “Not human blood.”
The ocean swelled with a huge wave. They rose on it, then dipped back down the other side, bobbing like corks on the surface.
“I don’t care what kind of blood it is.” She tried not to shout, she really did, but a full-fledged panic attack had her in its grips. “They just baited the water for sharks, didn’t they? We’ve got to get out of here!”
She released him and started swimming. Her fins, fueled by a jolt of adrenaline, propelled her through the water at a speed much faster than she could have managed on her own. Or maybe her kicks were fueled by fear. Whatever. As long as she got out of here before the sharks arrived, that was all that mattered. On her fifth stroke, Ben caught up with her.
“Nikki, stop.” He grabbed her BCD and jerked her toward him. “It’s no use. We can’t outrun them. Look there.”
They rose on another swell, and when she was at the top, Nikki looked in the direction he indicated. In the distance—but not nearly far enough—an eerie triangular fin broke the surface. And it was coming this way.
A scream rose in her throat, but she choked it off. “We’ve got to get out of here!” She twisted to break Ben’s grip on her BCD, but he held fast.
“Listen to me.” He maneuvered himself around so their faces were inches apart. “More people die from dog attacks every year than sharks. You know that. You’ve heard me say it a thousand times.”
“Yes, but that was—” She bit off her words. She’d been about to say, That was before. I have a child to take care of. Things are different now. She gulped in a breath. “You can’t be seriously suggesting that we hang around here. I don’t think these sharks know the statistics, Ben.”
“No, I’m not suggesting that.” His reasonable tone sounded in sharp contrast to her sarcasm. “But panicking is the worst thing we can do. They can sense that. The second worst thing we can do is make a bunch of noise swimming away. A lot of splashing on the surface is going to look like injured prey to a shark.”
One part of her mind recognized his logic and the fact that he appeared to be calm—on the outside, anyway.
She tried to mimic him. “So, what do you suggest?”
“We go back down. Sharks don’t recognize scuba divers as prey. The bubbles confuse them. We’ll be safer if we can get under them. As soon as they’ve eaten all the chunks, they’ll realize there’s no more food in this area, and they’ll leave.”
“But…but…” A thousand facts crowded together in her mind. When she had first started diving, she’d learned to read the dive tables that specified how long a diver had to wait between dives before it was safe to resubmerge. The surface time allowed the nitrogen to dissipate from blood and tissue. How long were they supposed to wait after a one-hundred-ten-foot dive? Certainly longer than the five minutes they’d been on the surface. The results of ignoring that wait time were unthinkable. Nitrogen narcosis. Air embolism, which would kill them. The bends, which could also be deadly.
And yet, the alternative—she gulped—was equally deadly. Becoming dinner for a school of blood-crazed sharks.
The tide had swept the blood away from them, or maybe the blood had diluted in the water. Either way, Nikki could no longer see the red stain. But she could still locate several large chunks of chum, floating on the surface about fifty feet away. An ominous fin broke the surface just beyond, and in the next instant—an eruption of water, a flash of razor-sharp teeth, a violent splash and the chum was gone.
She couldn’t help it. She screamed.
“Nikki.” Ben shouted in her ear. “We’re going. Now!”
He grabbed her regulator, shoved it in her mouth and jerked down the mask off her forehead over her eyes. Terror blazed through her brain, pushing coherent thought beyond reach. All she could do was cling to Ben. And obey him. He slapped the BCD valve into her hand, and she
pushed the button. Air hissed out of her vest, and water crept up her mask as she sank.
Silence pressed against her ears, trapping her alone inside her body with a fear that gnawed at her mind. Then she remembered to breathe, and the rasp of air surging through her regulator gave her an audible focal point.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep a constant stream of bubbles.
Pressure squeezed her ears. She pinched her nose and blew, her gaze never leaving Ben’s eyes framed inside his mask.
A movement just behind her, at the edge of her peripheral vision. She turned her head.
And screamed through her regulator.
A huge shark passed not four feet away from them. Snout short and bluntly rounded. Pectoral fins large and narrow. Two sets of dorsals. And small, round, dead-black eyes that seemed to catch her in its stare.
Ben crushed her arms in his grip. She forced herself to look away from the predator, back at him, as they continued to descend. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shark turn and head for the surface. Terrified tears blurred her vision. They filled her eyes and dripped down her face to pool on the rubber seal of her mask.
God, we need help! Please, don’t let us die here.
Ben released one of her arms. His hand rose to cup the back of her head, and he leaned forward to rest his mask against hers. She could almost hear his thoughts, could almost feel the comfort he so obviously was trying to give her.
Ben knows what he’s doing, she reminded herself. I can’t panic. Sharks can sense panic, remember? I just have to trust him.
A sob choked her. Oh, Joshua, I didn’t trust your daddy enough to tell him about you. But I have to trust him now, or I’ll never see you again.
She drew a deep breath into her lungs, and—
Nothing happened.
She sucked in again, but the Darth Vader rasp did not occur.
With frenzied movements, she scrabbled for her pressure gauge and held it to her face.
Her tank was empty. She had run out of air.
The stream of bubbles from Nikki’s regulator ceased. Ben had been expecting it. Her tank had been low to begin with. Plus, she’d been anxious on the way down to the wall, and an anxious diver sucked air at a much faster rate than a calm one. Behind her mask, her eyes grew round as basketballs. Hysteria swelled her pupils until they were almost as black as the shark’s.
Acting quickly, before she could shoot to the surface in a panic, Ben unclipped the secondary air source from his BCD and held it up in front of her. She clutched at it, and in a single motion, jerked her regulator out of her mouth and replaced it with his spare. Ben tapped on the face of his own regulator, the signal to “relax and breathe,” but he doubted if she remembered. So he held her gaze with his, willing her to calm down. If she kept sucking air like that, she’d hyperventilate, and that would be disaster at sixty feet.
After a few gasps, the rate of her breathing slowed. She gave a shaky nod, and then lifted her hand. Her fingers formed the “okay” signal.
Good. Now Ben had to figure out what to do. His air pressure gauge registered almost 2000 psi left in the cylinder, which wouldn’t last long with two of them breathing on it. He looked up and counted the ominous dark figures circling above them. Three nurse sharks, which were not a threat. In fact, he was surprised they stirred themselves from the bottom, where they habitually rested. A hammerhead, too, which normally would have thrilled him, because sightings in this area were so rare.
And the Caribbean reef shark. He’d spotted it at the surface, which is what prompted him to descend so quickly. This one was at least six feet long, big enough to make anybody sit up and take notice. Caribbean reef sharks were bold and had been known to make close passes at divers, like this guy had done a minute ago. They could be persistent when provoked by chumming, and had been known to attack. Good thing Nikki didn’t know enough about sharks to identify that fellow.
He looked around to get his bearings. The water had darkened as the sun sank in the sky, and he could no longer see the location of the wall. That might be the outline there, forty feet below them, but it was hard to tell with no light. Still, they couldn’t go down to be certain, not with their limited air supply. The only other choice was to surface, which wasn’t an option at the moment. He gave Nikki the signal to start swimming, and indicated the direction.
He locked his arm through hers and pulled her close so there was no danger that the current would separate them and rip the regulator out of her mouth. The trembling in her arm provided clear evidence that she had not yet conquered her terror. Well, who could blame her? They’d just encountered four members of the most infamous drug cartel in all of Mexico, which, in his opinion, was a far more deadly danger than a few sharks.
Their situation was dire. They had no identification, no money, nothing. They were stranded in Mexico. And they’d lost Cesar’s boat. He winced. What would Cesar think when he realized they weren’t returning with the Alexandra? That boat was his livelihood, a vital part of his business. Would he think his friends had stolen it? No, Cesar knew the Reynosa cartel was after them. He’d surmise what had happened. He’d have no choice but to go to the police, but he wouldn’t point a finger at Reynosa. To do so would be suicide. No, he’d report the boat stolen, and he’d be forced to name Ben as the thief.
Of course, it wouldn’t make any difference. They probably wouldn’t make it to shore, anyway. It was a long, long swim against a powerful and unpredictable current, and the sunlight was almost gone. The chances that they’d survive were slim.
Ben kept a close watch on the air gauge. When it reached 500 psi, he angled them toward the surface. They stayed at fifteen feet for the required three minutes, but he didn’t stop their forward motion. Easier to make progress underwater, even with the current, than to fight the waves at the surface. Finally, when he was certain it was safe, he gave Nikki the thumbs-up.
They dropped their weight belts and popped to the surface.
Nikki ripped her mask off her face and erupted into tears.
“Hey, calm down. Come here.”
In the next moment, he almost submerged again when she threw her arms around him. Her cold cheek pressed against his, and sobs filled his ear. The bulky BCDs made the embrace awkward, but he held her as tightly as he could, stroking her wet hair and soothing her with, “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
Yeah, not true at all, but what else could he say?
Nikki didn’t buy the lie. She jerked backward enough to look him in the face. Her fingers gripped the shoulders of his BCD. “I’m not safe! How can you say that? I’m floating out here in the middle of the ocean—” a sob “—with sharks—” another sob “—and it’s getting dark.” The shakes with which she punctuated her words threatened to dunk him under. “So don’t lie to me, Ben.”
“Sorry. What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know!” Her volume rose to a shout. “I want you to tell me how we’re going to get out of this. I want you to come up with a plan.”
She was working herself into a frenzy. In another minute, she’d start striking out, like a panicked swimmer, and drown them both.
“I want you to figure out how we’re going to—”
Ben stopped her the only way he knew how. He jerked her forward and covered her mouth with his.
Warmth chased away the ocean’s chill as Nikki’s lips softened beneath Ben’s kiss. Oh, how she remembered this giddy feeling, this delicious—
She jerked backward. What am I doing?
“I…I’m…” She shook her head to clear it. “Why did you do that?”
“You were getting hysterical.” A grin crooked his lips sideways. “I couldn’t think of a better way to shut you up.”
Oh, the feelings that washed over her at the sight of that crooked smile. The strength of them took her by surprise.
I’m still in love with him.
The fact struck her with tidal wave force. No. That couldn’t be. She had feelings for him
, sure. That was natural, because he was the only man with whom she’d ever been…intimate. The first time she laid eyes on Ben Dearinger, she had fallen head-over-heels, throw-common-sense-to-the-wind, crazy in love with him. She had walked away from her stable life, her job, her goals, even her family, because she had been swept away by the strength of her feelings for him. They’d lived together, created a child together. Whether he knew it or not, there would always be a connection between them, but she had gotten over her infatuation with him years ago. She didn’t love him.
But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the truth tolled like a bell in her mind and resonated through every cell of her being. She loved him. She loved Ben Dearinger.
No. I will not allow myself to be snared by his magnetism again. I have commitments now that I didn’t have before—to Joshua and to God.
Her thoughts grasped on to the reminder like a life-line. She belonged to God now. He had saved her soul when she wandered into the little mission church on the island almost three years ago, pregnant and frightened about her uncertain future. Could He save her life now?
Oh, God! Help me. Please rescue me.
Whether she was praying for rescue from the ocean or from her feelings, she didn’t know. She focused her tumultuous thoughts into prayers, silent pleas to the One who was powerful enough to handle any situation, even this one.
“Nikki?”
She opened her eyes to find Ben watching her, his eyebrows scrunched together with growing alarm. Nikki realized her lips were moving with unvoiced prayers. She must look like a crazy woman.
“Pray with me, Ben. We have to pray, ask God to rescue us.”
His jaw twisted sideways. “Come on, Nikki. You know that’s not going to do any good.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Salty water splashed into her face as she hooked her fingers into the sleeves of his vest and pulled him forward. “What if God really does hear our prayers, Ben? Have you ever thought of that?”
His lips formed a tight line of disgust. “You know how I feel about all that church stuff.”
Into the Deep Page 9