Pressure (10 page)

“… because they have iguanas in Cuba like America has squirrels. The damn things are just running around everywhere. Anyway, we were on our way back to the ship after a long night of drinking, and my friend, Miller—this crazy guy from Texas—catches one of these iguanas and tries to bring it on board. But the quartermaster catches him with it right away, because they searched our bags, and when he tries to take it away from Miller, the iguana scrambles up, bites the quartermaster on the nose, and starts scratching and clawing his arms. It was horrible, but also one of the funniest things I've ever seen.”

Abhi's laughter made Paolo's head hurt. Trying his best to ignore it, he clipped the sample bag to his belt, and turned his attention back to the decaying reef. He noticed a large swath of broken coral that looked like it had been gouged, as if by enormous claws or talons. Then, below that, he spotted something especially curious—a nest of eggs that he could not immediately identify. They weren't tapioca pudding-shaped glob-like fish eggs, nor were they the distinct, oddly shaped mermaid's purse laid by sharks. Indeed, they seemed to embody characteristics of both jellyfish and octopus eggs, while simultaneously displaying mammalian traits, as well. They were polyp-shaped, like the eggs of a jellyfish, and strung across the overhanging coral like those of an octopus. But while an octopus's eggs were soft and translucent, these eggs had a hard, brown shell that looked almost rock-like. He poked one experimentally with his index finger, confirming its density.

“… and I had no choice but to admit I'd taken the wine–that was how I ended up going to Captain's Mast for the sixth time,” Abhi continued. “After that, I decided to join the merchant marines, instead. They were a lot more easygoing when it came to such matters.”

Confident that he still had enough oxygen in his lungs, Paolo signaled Carrie. She gave him an okay sign with her hand. Then, with Abhi babbling in his ear about an incident involving a dog and a one-legged man at a laundromat in Kenya, Paolo reached again for the nest.

*   *   *

Carrie watched Paolo dive down for the sample, and marveled at his stamina. She had to admit, however begrudgingly, that despite his arrogance, she was impressed with his abilities. Even amongst other free divers, she seldom encountered anybody else who could match her skills, but so far, Paolo had done so without complaint or struggle. She had also been taken aback by his genuine concern and the care in his voice earlier.

The years have been good to him,
she thought.
He's grown up a lot.

She found herself wondering if he was currently involved with anyone. She couldn't remember if he'd mentioned a wife or girlfriend. Her mind wandered back to when they'd been younger, caught in the rain on their third date, absolutely soaked to the bone, laughing, sputtering, blinking water from their eyes, and then he had pulled her close …

Alarmed, Carrie shook her head, aware that she had drifted off again. She looked for Paolo, noticing two things as she did.

Her lips were starting to go numb.

And the water temperature had plummeted.

Suspicious, Carrie glanced around nervously. Aware of the risk she was now under, she was just about to signal Paolo and head for the surface, when something else caught her attention. Her eyes widened in horror.

A large, dark, amorphous shape slowly emerged from the trench, scuttling up over the lip and heading for Paolo. With the low light and debris, she still couldn't see it clearly. She saw the same spindly, sharp edges alongside softer, fleshier appendages, and had a sense of a horseshoe crab crossed with a jellyfish and giant squid. She fought the crazy urge to open her mouth and scream a warning for him to get away. Paolo seemed oblivious to the danger, but he did pause, tapping his ear. Carrie realized that the radio must have started to fail, as the waters became flooded with the interfering substance emitted by the creature.

Her lungs began to ache as she ran low on air. Paolo turned toward her and caught sight of the threat surging toward him. Even from this distance, and despite the poor visibility, she thought she saw his expression register panic.

Clutching a specimen bag tightly, Paolo plunged into a crevice, hiding between outcroppings of coral and rock. Carrie watched with a stomach-churning mix of amazement and horror as the segmented creature ripped into the silt under the coral, furiously trying to dig Paolo out. The debris from the excavation obscured them both.

Her head began to pound and her ears rang, signaling that she was just about to run out of oxygen. More alarmingly, the numbing sensation was beginning to spread throughout her body. Concerned over what effect it might be having on Paolo, and how much oxygen he had left in his lungs, she swam upward, keeping the boat in sight. Although she couldn't see Paolo or the creature, when she reached a depth of twenty meters above the swirling cloud of silt, Carrie grabbed a handful of flares from her dive belt. Recalling how aggressively the thing had attacked the lights on the previous dive, she dropped the torches. The debris cleared as the flares neared the coral, enough that she spotted the enraged creature pause in its digging to attack the lights instead. She dropped another handful of torches and caught a glimpse of Paolo swimming hard, north and east along the reef, staying low and close to the coral.

Fighting against the sinister paralysis creeping through her body, Carrie made her way up to the boat. A roaring sound filled her ears, and her vision grew spotty. The vessel floated above her, surrounded by a halo of filtered sunlight. She was afraid to take her eyes off the hull. She surfaced, sputtering, years of training and instinct forgotten in a moment of panic, and gulped precious air. Waves slapped her face, yet she barely felt the sting.

The buzzing in her ears subsided, giving way to the churn of the surf and Abhi calling out to her in concern.

“Are you okay? Carrie? Talk to me! Where's Paolo?”

Paddling for the boat, Carrie spat water. “Drop … flares…”

“What?”

“Drop some flares! Hurry, Abhi! Just drop them in the water.”

Without further comment, Abhi rushed to the torch crate and ripped the lid off the wooden box. Carrie clambered over the side of the craft, dripping water in her wake. With no time to explain, she hurried over to the crate and grabbed a handful of flares. Abhi did the same. Then, they began dropping the lit torches into the water. Carrie hoped that it would be enough to distract the creature a little bit longer, and buy Paolo more time to escape.

Except that he's out of time,
she thought.
There can't be much air left in his lungs.

“Get ready to move,” she gasped. “Take us north and east. But slowly.”

“Carrie, tell me what's happening! Where's Paolo?”

“I don't have time to go into it, Abhi. The creature attacked us. Paolo escaped, but he's so far off now, he'll need the torches to relocate us.”

Nodding, Abhi rushed back to the case and dragged it to the middle of the deck. They stood on each side, lighting flares and dropping them into the churning water. Carrie watched the lights as they descended into the depths, and was once again reminded of fireflies. She shivered in the heat. The torches continued to fall, but there was no sign of Paolo—or the creature.

Without taking her gaze away from the ocean, Carrie reached down, fumbling for more flares. Her fingers skittered across bare wood. When she glanced down, she saw that the crate was empty.

Paolo still hadn't surfaced.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Come on, come on, come on…”

“Carrie,” Abhi said, his voice low, “maybe we should—”

“We're not leaving.”

“That's not what I was going to suggest.”

Gripping the rail, Carrie stared at the water. The railing was scorching hot after sitting for so long in the sunlight, but she barely noticed. She chewed her lip, and tasted blood.

“Not like Peter,” she whispered. “Not Paolo.”

The lights continued to sink, getting smaller and smaller now.

Then, they started to go out.

There was a commotion off the starboard side, as something surfaced with a loud splash.

“There,” Abhi shouted, pointing. “Over there!”

It was Paolo. He had come up a few hundred feet away from the boat. Abhi and Carrie called to him, but then Carrie glanced back down into the depths.

The falling torchlights continued to wink out, one by one, closer and closer to the surface.

“Shit! Abhi, motor over to Paolo.”

“Are you sure? He seems okay. He's swimming toward us.”

“So is that thing! We need to get to Paolo while it's still distracted by the torches.”

Abhi raced for the motor and got it started. It sputtered, belching blue-gray smoke and diesel fumes, and then hummed. As he pointed the boat toward Paolo, Carrie rushed to the bow. The boat bounced up and down on the waves. Saltwater splashed her face, but this time, Carrie felt it, as the paralysis faded. She dropped a few more torches, flinging them as far as she could, hoping to distract the predator a little longer. Then, she turned her attention back to the surface and kept sight of Paolo, bobbing with the swells like a human beach ball.

“Slow down,” she shouted over the roar of the motor. “Only about fifty feet!”

Abhi did as commanded, but rather than idling, the motor coughed again, releasing another plume of smoke, and then died. The ocean suddenly seemed very quiet.

“What the—” Abhi pounded on it with his fist.

Carrie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Swim, Paolo!”

Abhi removed his hat and wiped his brow. Glowering, he checked over the motor.

“You've got gas and oil,” he said to the stubborn engine. “What else do you need?”

Paolo swam for them, closing the distance with seemingly no trouble, despite the length of time he'd been underwater. Even alongside her terror, Carrie was filled with admiration for his abilities. Paolo reached the boat while Abhi cursed and pleaded with the motor. Carrie reached for Paolo's outstretched hand, and grasped it firmly.

“You okay?”

He nodded, too winded to speak. Then he smiled.

Carrie smiled back at him. “I'm glad.”

Then, as she began to haul him aboard, something seized Paolo from below.

Paolo screamed. “My leg! It's got my leg!”

Yelling, Carrie pulled hard, but the creature pulled back—a horrifying game of tug-o-war, with the terrified diver as the rope. Paolo's eyes were wide circles, and his complexion turned alabaster from shock. His breathing came in short, panicked gasps.

“Don't let go,” he pleaded. “Don't let go! Oh God…”

“Abhi,” Carrie shouted. “Help me—”

He was at her side before she could finish, grabbing Paolo's other flailing arm and tugging. Abhi gritted his teeth, grunting with the effort, and cursed in three languages. Carrie braced her feet against the bow and renewed her efforts. Paolo's screams turned to unintelligible shrieks as the creature refused to let go. His wetsuit slipped in their grasp. Carrie shrieked as he slid away from her, but Abhi held on tight. Seconds later, Paolo's frantic cries were drowned out as something scraped against the bottom of the boat, denting the metal hull from beneath.

“Oh Jesus,” Abhi breathed. “It's going to tear through…”

“Pull,” Carrie screamed, grabbing Paolo's outstretched hand. “Pull, goddamn it!”

The boat rose suddenly, higher and more rapidly than any wave could have tossed it. Carrie's grip slipped again, and Paolo's hand fluttered away. Once more, Abhi managed to hold on. The boat's hull buckled behind them as something slammed against it. Metal shrieked torturously. Then, the boat crashed back down again, slamming into the water. Salt spray hit their faces. Abhi pulled, the tendons standing out in his neck. Carrie leaned forward, and managed to get her arms around Paolo's chest. The two of them yanked him from the ocean and onto the deck.

“Careful,” he groaned. “The sample…”

Carrie looked to where he was pointing and saw a sample bag affixed to his belt, bulging with an egg of some kind, big enough that it barely fit inside the container. Then her attention returned to Paolo. Blood smeared the deck around him, streaming from a horrific-looking wound on his leg.

“Get us out of here,” Carrie told Abhi. “Hurry!”

“If you know any prayers,” he muttered, “now would be a good time to use them.”

Ignoring him, Carrie knelt beside Paolo and tended to his wound. His wetsuit had been slashed open, and blood welled steadily from a gaping, tattered hole just above his ankle. Worse, his calf and ankle were both black from what appeared to be the beginning stages of frostbite. Before she could examine the injury further, the creature slammed into the bottom of the boat again. The hull rose and buckled directly beneath them. Gear and equipment crashed to the deck and rolled around.

“Abhi! Do something!”

“I'm working on it!”

Paolo whimpered as Carrie touched his leg. Despite the heat, his lips were chattering and his skin was covered in gooseflesh.

“You're going into shock,” she said. “Try to relax, Paolo. It's going to be okay. I promise. Just hang on. You hear me? Hang on!”

She realized then that both of them were crying. She clasped his hand and squeezed. Paolo rolled his head back and forth in agony, but he squeezed back. He tried to smile at her, but could only grimace.

Behind them, Abhi began hitting the motor with a wrench, and swearing at it in several different languages.

“Gatito,” Paolo sighed. “I…”

“Don't talk,” she said. “Just hang on.”

Carrie looked closer at Paolo's punctured ankle, and discovered why the blood flow was a trickle rather than a flood. There was something lodged in the wound. Something about the size of a golf ball. Frowning, she bent closer and squinted. She couldn't be sure what the object was, but it looked like a hard, ovoid mineral.