Finally, Miles climbs back into the STAV and Jenna shuts and seals the hatch.
He drops into his seat, staring out the curved windshield.
“So,” Jenna says. “What’d you see?”
He draws in a breath, lets it out slowly and shakes his head. “Death.”
“What do you m—”
“Just…go.”
Jenna says nothing more and speeds the STAV up to sixty knots.
Miles shakes his head, sight drifting to the returning pings, hoping he’ll find Mike alive.
CHAPTER 14
She’s had enough.
Emma stands and makes her way to the cockpit door.
“Um,” Jakob says. “Us lowly pawns stay out of the cockpit, hun.”
“Well, hun,” she says. “I need to know what’s going on.”
Jakob uncrosses his arms and sits up straight. “We all do. But Miles and Jenna will let us know when we need to know.”
“I really don’t care.”
He chuckles. “Well, it’s your funeral.”
“Sit back down,” Sylvi spouts, not looking up from her book. “Or I’ll cut that pretty face of yours off and feed it to the sharks.”
Emma rolls her eyes, opens the door and steps into the cockpit. When she turns to shut the door, Sylvi reaches out and taps a blade on her cheek.
“You need to learn that I don’t fuck around,” Sylvi says.
Sneering, Emma says, “And you need to learn to back the fuck off.” She shoves Sylvi’s hand away and slams the cockpit door.
“The hell?” Miles stands from his seat.
He doesn’t look well. His eyes are too bloodshot and his skin too waxy. In fact, he looks like a gentle shove would knock him over.
Emma cocks a thumb over her shoulder. “You need to talk to that woman. She’s fucking nuts.”
Miles frowns. “Who?”
“Sylvi. She’s threatened my life more than once. This time she touched me with her knife. On my face.”
Jenna grunts. “Lucky she didn’t slit your throat. I’d say she likes you.”
“What?”
Miles nods. “Sylvi kills people she doesn’t like. If you’re not dead yet, then she likes you, no matter how much she complains or threatens your life.”
Emma’s gaze drifts to the curved windshield, then back to Miles. “Well, that’s fucked up.”
“It is. But that’s how Sylvi works.”
Emma crosses her arms over her chest. “So, what’s going on?”
He looks away. “We’re still searching for Mike. You can go sit down now.”
“No. I mean, where in the ocean are we? Why did we slow down so much?”
“Look, I—” Miles begins and Jenna cuts him off.
“We’re just fifty yards from the location of the wreckage. Middle Pacific, approximately three thousand miles from shore.”
This information clicks through Emma’s brain. Then she flashes a glance at Miles. “Have you found the Western Slope Current yet?”
“The Western…what?”
“Western Slope Current,” she repeats, brushes by him and sits in his seat. She can almost feel his bewilderment boring into her. She tries ignoring this and continues. “It’s the strongest and deepest current in the Middle Pacific, though only mild on the surface.”
“I…what?” Miles sounds so damn confused and she can’t understand why.
“Okay, so if the Western Slope flows through the site of the wreckage, whatever was expelled from the ship will be carried away by the current.”
Standing right beside her now, Miles says, “So, what are you saying?”
“The deeper it is, the stronger the current. I’m saying, if we follow the current, we’ll find whatever has been expelled from the wreckage.”
Miles blinks. “So, we’re going the right direction?”
“Yes.” Excitement wells inside her. “But I’d stay closer to the surface and speed up a little. I don’t know how long it’s been since your brother’s ship sank, but I’m guessing if he’s in a raft he’ll be a few miles out, drifting on the current.”
“Where does the current end?” Jenna asks.
“It goes all the way to China. If Japan hadn’t flooded over with the rising waters, that’d be the place we’d shoot for. So, look to China as a final destination.”
She catches a smile from Jenna, but Miles’ frown deepens. It furrows his forehead and she fights to wither under his gaze.
“You think Mike might be on this current?” Miles breaks the withering look and turns to the windshield.
“It’s the logical solution.”
After a long time, he finally nods. “Okay. So, we’ll follow the current and see what we can see.”
Emma smiles, feeling like she actually contributed to the cause. “Make sure you stay close to the surface. Ping several times.”
He nods and places a warm hand on her shoulder. “We’ll do that. Thank you.”
She pats his hand. “I’m here to help. Never forget that.” Then she stands and walks to the door. She gives him a final look. “The ocean is unpredictable, but I think this is the right course of action. Stay on the current, and we might just find Mike.”
Then she opens the door and steps out of the cockpit.
Sylvi is reading her book and doesn’t even look up when Emma returns to her seat. Jakob smiles. Guether continues parring his fingernails with his knife. Ma taps away on her tablet while Geri snores.
No one says anything.
And so, after about living in ten minutes of silence, she falls asleep on Geri’s narrow shoulder.
CHAPTER 15
“She’s pretty knowledgeable about the ocean,” Jenna says. “And not just marine life.”
Miles shrugs. “Maybe she studied more?”
Jenna nods. “Maybe. The main question is: Do you believe her?”
“I do.” Why Jenna would ask such a question is beyond him. Emma is always very factual. Then again, Jenna doesn’t know Emma either. “She’s been right about a lot of things.”
Leaning back in her seat, black eyebrow lifting. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Not on this mission. I mean over the three years. She knows certain things about the ocean and its currents since all the quakes. She knows how everything has shifted not only on land, but in the oceans too.”
“Okay…” Jenna says. “But that doesn’t give me an example.”
“Alright. Fine. We had some clients that wanted to explore the fairly new Wyright Reef. Emma warned them against it. The ocean floor is unstable, she told them. Variant temps. From scalding hot from all the leaking magma to near freezing. And…somehow she just knew there might be mutations skimming the waters. But those yuppies fed her more and more money until she finally agreed. She took all precautions. Gave us all anti-temp suits to adjust to the fluctuating water temps. I chose an AT-13 sonic round rifle. The clients didn’t believe her. Neither did I really. It was our fourth outing and I hadn’t really gotten to know her yet. She was just my boss at that point and not a friend.” Miles sighs. “So, we arrive at the dive spot. We set the thrusters to keep the chatter in the same location and jump in. We’re not even seven meters down when we’re attacked by a mutation. This long, eel-like thing with multiple mouths and webbed hands. I dispatched it as quickly as I could, but not before it snagged onto a client and took her for a short ride. There were more, but I set off flares that kept them away. Emma led the way toward the reef and soon enough, more than a few clients were asking to return to the boat. Around twenty meters, we experienced the fluctuations in water temps. Very cold to extreme heat. A heat even Emma’s special suit couldn’t stop. The clients pleaded to go back and, finally, Emma gave the order to return to the boat. They settled on the safer and established Gornali Reef south of the Wyright. She was right about everything and after that, she was right about everything else concerning the ocean. Besides the mutations, which is my expertise.”
Jenna, nodding, doesn’t
say anything for a moment. She’s in thought, he knows. Has all the signs. The distant expression. The way she sucks on her top teeth the tiniest bit. The slight line forming between her eyes.
Finally, she straightens and says, “So, you two are just friends?”
He flaps his arms in exasperation. “Out of all that, the only thing you heard was that we’re friends?”
“No, I heard it all. You two just seem very close.”
“It’s a business friendship. More or less.”
“More or less,” Jenna muses, grinning. “You like her.”
“I—what? No. I mean, yes. But not—”
“Oh, shush. Doesn’t matter. If you trust her, then I will too.”
He lets out a breath of relief. “Good. She might seem fidgety and awkward, but she’s a good person, strong and knows her shit.”
“Good enough for me.” Jenna returns her attention to piloting the STAV and checking pings.
So far, nothing has shown up on the pings.
Miles debates going back and maybe chatting with Emma a bit, show everyone just how great, if not badass, she can be. Instead he sits and watches for pings.
A heavy sigh leaks out of him and he’s about to tell Jenna to gun it a bit when—
A series of shrill beeps nearly force him out of his seat. The image on his monitor shows several different objects on the surface.
“Larger than the last,” Jenna says. “Could be rafts or stalled pods.”
“Go,” he says, heart stammering. “He might be here.”
Without a word, Jenna surfaces the STAV. Miles hurries to the top hatch and begins climbing before she even has time to open the hatch.
This is it, he thinks as the hatch hisses open and the salty air whooshes down the hole to him. Once more, he coughs, though not as bad as last time. It’s been a while since he’s been in the open ocean and all the saltiness of the air. Then again, one never really gets used to that either.
He climbs to the top, pulls himself out and looks around, Mike’s name already flirting with his lips.
But what he sees isn’t anything he had hoped.
There are rafts. Four of them. And a single pod. All drifting along the current. But…
He stands on top of the STAV, inching his way close to the right side.
None of the seamen move. And one of the rafts…there’s only two whole bodies. The others appear to have been slaughtered and…eaten.
Miles shakes his head. No, it hadn’t been long enough for them to resort to cannibalism, yet, there’s no denying what he saw. Slathered all over inside the raft is blood, now dried to a deep crimson. There are also a few limbs. A ragged arm. A couple of legs. A…head.
Hot saliva squirts into his mouth. His stomach froths, and he spurts vomit onto the STAV. Once the nausea passes, he focuses on the floating pod.
Without really thinking, he shouts, “Hello? We’re here to rescue you!”
None of the bodies in the rafts move. None of them are Mike either. But he notices slight movements through the pod windows.
Through the hole, he yells at Jenna to move the STAV northwest ten meters.
The STAV soon putters toward the pod. About twelve feet from it, he tells Jenna to cut the thrusters. The STAV drifts to the pod, bumping into it.
Miles scrambles over the roof of his vessel to the pod, leaning to peek through the window. The glass is too thick and he can’t see through it clearly, but as far as he can tell there are three people inside.
Heart crashing into his ribs, Miles pounds on the glass.
There are a few godless seconds when nothing happens, then, one of the people inside moves. The top of the pod slides open. Miles climbs onto the pod and peers inside.
Yes. Three people. Two women and one man and—
“Mike?”
The man nearest the window, his eyes flutter open. “M-Miles?”
He doesn’t look like Mike. His lips are too dry and cracked. His skin too pale. And yet, he is Mike. Just a very ill Mike. A very dehydrated and starved Mike.
The two women do not move.
“Miles…”
He enters the pod and checks the pulse of both women. They’re cold to the touch. No pulse. But Mike...
Mike has a pulse. It’s weak, but there.
“C’mon,” Miles says, hefting his little brother out of the pod. “I’m here now, bro.”
All Mike keeps saying over and over is: “Miles.”
Luckily, Mike barely weighs one-fifty, making it easy to haul him out of the pod and to the STAV. Only problem is bringing him down into the STAV. The pace is too narrow to carry Mike down.
Miles shouts, “I found him! Need help!”
Shortly, Jenna climbs up the passage. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” He holds Mike so Jenna can see him.
“Oh my god. Okay, hold on.”
Jenna positions herself. “Feet first.”
Miles stands and gently lowers his brother into Jenna’s arms. The woman holds him tight and calls, “Guether!”
No more than two seconds, Guether’s deep voice echoes up the passage. “Here. Lower him down.”
Miles begins crawling into the hole when a strange sound snags his attention. He’s halfway into the passage when a cold, spongy hand claps onto his arm. He snaps his sight up and gapes into quivering, cracked, oozing lips. Blood drips from these lips onto the STAV barely an inch from the lip of the passage. A blistered face twitches. Wide, blue eyes bore into him.
With a grunt, he rips his arm free of the spongy grip. The sunbaked man moans, drops to his knees onto the unforgiving metal of STAV. Blood dribbling down his whiskered chin, the man manages, “P-Pleeeease.”
Letting his heart settle a bit, Miles takes a few breaths and shouts down the passage. “We have another survivor.”
“I’m here,” Guether says. “Send’em down.”
Miles crawls out of the holes and says, “We’re here to help. Just hold on. I need to help you inside.”
“I-It…It…”
Miles nods and goes to help the man to his feet so he can position him better near the hole.
“It killed everyone,” the man screams.
“I know,” Miles says. “Now let’s get you out of this sun and get some water in you.”
The man coughs. Blood splatters around the hole to the passage.
Grimacing, Miles stoops to help the man up. He grips under both armpits and lifts but the man unexpectedly twists and Miles’ right hand slips down the man’s arm. And keeps sliding as the man’s skin peels away.
Miles gasps, nearly drops the man, then repositions his grip under the arms. “Jesus,” he whispers under his breath. Then, “Just hold on, bro. Hold on.”
The man moans, blood streaming from the exposed muscles and tendons of his skinless forearm. The skin itself hangs in ragged flaps.
“Help,” Miles shouts, heart whip-cracking.
Guether pops his head out of the hole like a damn gopher. He sees what’s going on, blinks at the skinned arm and all the blood and—
A large wave crashes into Miles’ back. He loses his grip on the man and stumbles forward. Guether catches him before he face plants into metal.
A low growl rumbles, vibrating the STAV.
“Get back inside,” Jenna yells from the bottom of the passage. “Get back inside! It’s here!”
Miles turns to grab the man and pull him into the passage but he’s not on the STAV anymore. He’s floundering in the water, trying desperately to swim back to the STAV. Miles goes to help him when Guether latches onto his arm.
Guether shakes his broad head. “No, man. Get inside.”
But Miles pulls out of the big man’s hand and reels toward the survivor in the water.
“Miles!”
He ignores Guether and slides to the edge of the STAV. The man sinks under the surface, splashes up, sinks. Miles, leaning over the edge, extends his arm.
“Take my hand!”
The man gasps
, sputters, but doesn’t appear to notice Miles there. When one is drowning, coherent thought is nil. Knowing this, Miles scoots farther over the edge, stretching at far as he can.
Water splashes his hand and arm from the man’s thrashing, but he’s still too far away to grab hold of one of those flailing arms.
He’s about to try and stretch more when the water swells. The man rises with the thick swell, still thrashing. Something dark passes swiftly under him. Miles scrambles away from the edge, stomach clenching.
There’s no time to do anything.
The swell bursts and a massive maw filled with long, fang-like teeth emerges. Water sprays into Miles. The force is enough to send him scooting across the STAV back to the passage hole. It threatens to drag him back but Guether latches onto his arm.
“Got you.” Guether begins hauling him closer to the hole just as the massive maw snaps down over the floundering man.
And it doesn’t stop there.
Brief shimmers of bluish scales and each raft is sucked under the water.
Miles freezes, struck by the horror of what’s going on. If not for Guether, he might have remained out there watching as each raft is sucked down into the monster’s mouth. Before Guether finally drags him into the passage, the thing rises a bit out of the water…and it’s massive. A thing that should not be. But is…
The head, as far as he can see, is larger than some houses. The very ocean seems to bend at its will.
Then he’s yanked into the passage and the hatch slams shut. Then he’s scrambling down the ladder to the floor. Then he almost goes to check on Mike, but Jenna is shouting for him from the cockpit. It’s a melee of insanity. He manages a glance into the STAV, sees Emma and the others over Mike, then shuts the cockpit door and stumbles, dripping water, to his seat.
Dark Waters Page 11