by Nick Thacker
“What are you getting at?” Reggie asked. “You want to try to use the oxygen tanks as a weapon?”
Ben shook his head, walking across the back of the shuttle to the opposite side, feeling around for another hidden cupboard. “No, I just wanted to make sure. There’s also a small LED panel on it — the tanks are about eighty percent full. I’d guess the antechambers refill them whenever the shuttles are docked. Not sure how long eighty percent will last us, but I’d guess it’s not much.”
Julie frowned. “What — what are you planning, Ben?”
Still, he didn’t respond. Finding what he was looking for, he reached down and pushed against the panel, opening yet another plastic cupboard. The door, like the previous one, conformed to the shape of the wall around it, curving upward and to the right, to match the bubble-like interior of the craft. The top edge of the drawer ended at the glass wall that extended upward until it rounded up and over the ceiling.
Ben reached around inside and finally found something. He pulled it out. “This’ll have to do,” he said, talking mostly to himself.
Julie, Reggie, Sarah, and Susan all watched, interested in Ben’s sudden fixation on the small object. It was a miniature metal broom, short and stubby, with a set of bristles in the shape of a triangle. The type of hand broom used to sweep up small messes, the type Julie might have expected to find in a boat or a car.
Or a shuttle, I guess, she thought.
Ben examined the broom. Whether it was what he was looking for or he was about to MacGyver something was unclear.
Until he twisted off the rubber cap at the end of the broom’s handle and held up the open end of the hollow tube to his eye. “This will work,” he muttered.
He dropped the broom, then jumped on the handle, landing on the very end of it with his heel. He repeated the procedure, then a third time, and finally picked up the broom and held it up again.
It was now a tube with a squashed end. He appeared to be satisfied, as Ben then carried the broom over the nearest chair and knelt down. “These chairs are bolted to the floor on two legs,” he said. “I think we can get the bolts off with this makeshift wrench.” Julie wasn’t sure why it mattered, but she watched anyway. The chairs indeed only had two legs — the back legs — and they were bolted on heavy-duty steel to the fuselage floor of the Subshuttle.
Julie watched, intrigued but still very confused, as Ben worked at the first of the two bolts holding one of the two legs of the chair to the Subshuttle’s fuselage. He tried a few times to fit the smashed head of the broom over the bolt, then began to twist. He grunted with the effort, but Julie watched as the triangular set of bristles rotated ever so slightly. It’s working.
He continued twisting, and the head of the bolt loosened enough so that he could work it completely loose with his hand. He moved on to the next bolt, finding this one a bit easier. Within another minute he had the leg of the chair completely separated from the floor.
He slid over to the next leg. “Let me help with that,” Reggie said. “I don’t know what the hell you’re planning, but I don’t care. If you’re this focused on something, it’s going to be good.”
Ben nodded, handing Reggie the broom-turned-wrench. Reggie worked at the bolt, finding this one to be a bit trickier as the leg of the chair was set up against the side of the Subshuttle and getting the broom to fit over the bolt was difficult.
After five minutes, the second leg was free. The Subshuttle still hadn’t started moving, and Julie was beginning to worry. They’re going to let us suffocate down here, she realized. It wasn’t a bad plan at all — simply turn off the Subshuttle and wait until it ran out of oxygen inside. They’d all be killed without The Hawk’s team ever having to fire a bullet.
Ben and Reggie stood up, and Reggie walked over to the open panel that contained the oxygen display. “72%,” he said. “It’s moving down quicker than I thought it would.”
“The ballast system might be tapped in as well,” Ben said. “It can use oxygen to help with the buoyancy so there’s not as much weight on the cable.”
“Whatever the case, we need to get this thing moving again. We can take our chances with Ravenshadow once we’re —“
“No,” Ben said. “We’re not going to win that one.”
“Then what’s the plan, Ben? You have a better idea?” Reggie asked.
Ben shook his head. “Not a better idea, necessarily,” he said. “But it might work. And it doesn’t involve a shootout with two guns against thirty.”
“I’m all ears,” Reggie said. Julie nodded.
“No time to explain,” Ben said. “We’re already depleting too much oxygen. And we’re going to need it.”
Julie stepped forward and watched as Ben lifted the chair up from the cam bolts that had previously held it into place. The bolts dangled through the holes. Ben hefted the chair, feeling its weight and solidity, then nodded. “I think this will work,” he said. He looked over at the glass wall, where two sections of the glass had been glued together. There was a line of clear silicon caulking covering the glue, stretching from the top of the ceiling to the place where the wall of the Subshuttle met the plastic near the floor.
Suddenly Ben tipped the chair sideways. The bolts had been in the square-shaped foot of the chair leg in a section of metal perpendicular to the leg itself. The small lip fit into the small crack between the two panes of glass.
“Ben, what —“
He struggled with the weight of the chair for a moment, then he set it down on the chair in front of it. The chair Ben and Reggie had removed was now sideways, the foot of one of its two legs jammed inside the gap between the two panes of glass, the rest of the chair balanced on top of the chair in front of it.
Julie stared at it for a moment. And then she realized what was about to happen.
47
“BEN, NO!” SHE SHOUTED.
BEN ran forward, swinging his heavy leg up and toward the sideways chair. He landed the kick on the side of the chair, on the square metal frame that surrounded the seat cushion. The leg and glass made a cracking sound and the chair slid a bit forward.
“What the hell are you doing, Ben?” Reggie asked.
Ben kicked again. This time there was a much louder crack, and water began spraying into the Subshuttle.
“Stop, Ben! You’re going to break the glass.”
“Exactly,” he said. He kicked one more time, and this time one pane of glass completely cracked and fell away. Water slammed inward, and Ben was hit and thrown sideways.
Susan and Julie screamed, and Reggie jumped forward to pull Ben backwards. The pressure wasn’t great enough to hurt him, but the amount of water plowing into the interior of the shuttle was frightening. Julie watched, knowing that it would be less than a minute before the entire shuttle was full.
She heard a groaning sound and felt the shuttle list to the side, then buck down a few feet.
“We’re sinking, Ben!” she yelled. The torrent of water was deafening, and already her legs were soaked to her knees. Ben and Reggie were completely wet from head to toe, and Sarah and Susan had jumped up and onto chairs to try in vain to escape the rising water level.
“That’s the plan!” Ben shouted back. “I thought the ballast would kick in, pushing us up. By flooding the inside, we might be able to override the control and force it to lift us up to the surface.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Dr. Lindgren shouted. “You’ve got to be kidding me! We’re all going to drown down here now.”
Ben looked directly at Julie. His eyes were wide, pleading. He needed her to agree. He needed to know the plan wasn’t completely insane.
But she couldn’t. She didn’t agree. He had acted rash, popping a hole in the only thing keeping them alive, and now there was water spilling in, already up to her waist.
Worst of all, the Subshuttle was sinking. As the water poured in, the weight of the craft couldn’t compete with the cable. She wasn’t sure how deep it wa
s in this part of the ocean, and she really didn’t want to find out. There was only so much give on the line, and she knew they were going to hit it.
Unless the ballast system kicked in and Ben’s plan worked.
And if it didn't…
“Ben, I hope you have a backup plan,” Reggie yelled. He was treading water on the other side of the shuttle.
Ben nodded, but there was fear in his eyes. “I do,” he said. “But it’s worse than this one.”
Julie felt the water hit her bellybutton, and the sudden shock of everything hit her at once. The water was warm, as they were in the Caribbean, but to her it felt ice cold. She started shaking. She couldn’t get to Ben if she tried, as the gaping hole in the Subshuttle’s glass prevented them from moving from one side of the vessel to the other.
She was going to die down here, they all were.
And she was going to die alone.
She looked around the flooded Subshuttle, wondering how she’d ended up here. It was surreal, everything happening in slow motion. Susan was standing on a chair, but the water was higher than her knees anyway. Dr. Lindgren, a taller woman than Susan, was also standing on a chair, her head nearly touching the ceiling. She was watching the water rise, calculating their odds. Julie could see it on her face, the calm assurance that they were out of options.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to reach across the center of the shuttle and punch Ben. She wanted —
She saw a flash of darkness out of the corner of her eye. A whipping motion, a swift kick as it passed through the water right above her head, just outside the glass. Then it was gone.
Oh, God no.
She hadn’t even considered where in the park they might be at the moment.
Another wraith appeared, then disappeared. Like an apparition, it was only visible when she wasn’t focusing on it. She spun around in a circle, the cold water growing even colder as it lapped against her chest. A few stray drips lanced upward and splashed onto her throat. Her throat constricted, her breathing grew heavier.
Again, she spun. Sarah was looking at her now, her head turned, trying to determine what it was that had Julie so terrified.
Then she knew, and Sarah’s face melted into an expression of pure fear.
Julie nodded.
And another slender, black shape flew by.
48
BEN LOOKED ACROSS THE POOL of water and saw Julie’s face. It was masked in a glow from the floor lights that surrounded the interior of the vessel, and the light was eery and dispersed in the five feet of water. He watched her, trying to see if she would look his way.
She didn’t.
He turned to Reggie. “Any minute the ballast should kick in,” he shouted. The sound of the water rushing in had been lessened now that the hole in the glass was below the waterline. But the ocean couldn’t fill the Subshuttle fast enough, and the water was rising an inch every few seconds.
We’re out of time, he realized.
The shuttle lurched, pulling downward on its cable.
Shit.
He had calculated poorly. His plan had been based on knowing that the shuttle was automated, that the ballast tanks would fill and empty based on the weight of the vehicle, so as not to disturb the cable line and put too much downward pressure on it as the submersible slid through the water.
He had hoped that since the lights in the craft were still working that the Subshuttle itself was still in working order, that the ballast tanks would do their job. He’d hoped — counted on — the reason they had stopped dead in the water was that The Hawk or Crawford had ordered it.
He had not counted on the ballast system completely ignoring their rapidly sinking vessel.
The shuttle groaned, the water reached Ben’s chin, and Reggie pulled Ben around, a uselessly slow movement in the thick seawater.
“It’s too late, Ben,” he said. His voice was calm, but Ben read the fear in the man’s eyes. Reggie was a fighter, but he wasn’t rash. He wasn’t insane, either. Fear was a part of him as it was every other man. If Ben was terrified, he knew Reggie was at least frightened.
Ben nodded. He didn’t want to admit defeat. He looked around at the two women standing hopelessly on their chairs, their hands up and pressing against the glass roof. He saw Julie, still not making eye contact with him, as if she were watching something outside the shuttle.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Reggie shook his head. “Enough of that crap, brother,” Reggie yelled. “You had a plan. A halfway decent one, too. I’d have done the same thing if I’d thought about it.”
Ben nodded again.
“But you said you had a backup, right? Something else we could try?”
A small wave caught Ben’s arm as he slid it through the water and a bit of saltwater splashed up and into his mouth. He spat, then caught his balance once again as the shuttle fell backwards, now sinking stern-first into the depths. The cable, somehow, was still attached, so he knew they would only be able to sink as deep as the cable’s slack allowed.
“I did, but I don’t — we can’t. Reggie, it’s too late.”
“I didn’t trust you earlier,” Reggie said, talking into his ear so Ben could hear him clearly.
Ben frowned. What is he talking about? “You’re bringing this up now?”
“Yeah, man. I owe it to you. You need to hear it.”
“Hear what?”
A pop sounded from somewhere below the waterline, and Ben felt the pressure change around his legs. Another pane of glass had blown somewhere, and the craft was going to be filling even faster. He worked his way up and onto the back of a chair, crouching down so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling. Reggie followed suit, but Ben knew it was only a matter of seconds before the entire shuttle was filled.
Another pop, another groan. This time the shuttle fell three or four feet straight down, sinking faster than Ben thought possible. A louder creak sounded from somewhere above him, outside the shuttle.
The shuttle strained on its cable, its lifeline.
Their lifeline.
It sank, pulling the cable with it.
Wherever the cable was anchored on opposite sides of the long expanse, Ben hoped it would hold.
“You’re in charge now.”
Ben looked at his friend. Completely soaked, his head the only thing above the water.
“You’re the leader, Ben. You always have been, really. You’re the guy holding this thing together. Joshua was a de facto leader, but you’re the guy we were always following.”
Ben shook his head. “We don’t have time for this right now, Reggie. We need to —“
“Save it. One more second,” Reggie yelled. “I’d follow you to hell and back, brother, and I just wanted you to know that.”
“Thanks. Means a lot to me,” Ben said. “I’ll keep that in mind as we die on the floor of the ocean.”
“Knock it off,” Reggie said. “I’m serious.”
“So am I, Reggie. We need to get out of here!”
“What was your plan?”
The women were listening in as well now, all eyes on Ben.
“It — it wasn’t much,” he said. “I just thought we’d wait for the thing to fill up, then swim for it.”
Reggie’s eyes bulged. “That — that was your plan?”
Ben shook his head, with what little of his head was left out of the water. “No, that was the backup plan, remember?”
Susan shouted over the sound of the hissing water and groaning shuttle. “It’s our only plan now. Who wants to go first?”
Julie finally looked at Ben. He wouldn’t be able to hear her from across the craft, but she wasn’t trying to talk.
She simply shook her head.
No.
He frowned. “Why?” he shouted.
She apparently read his lips. No.
He had nothing to go off of, no information to help him understand what she was trying to say.
Too late.
“We have to try
,” he yelled, to whoever could still hear him. He moved to the left, toward the center of the Subshuttle, stretching his left foot across the aisle underwater so he was straddling the backs of two of the chairs. There was about eight inches of air left at the top of the shuttle, where the bubbled part of the panes of rounded glass met on the ceiling. The others followed his lead and soon the five of them were all stretched across the aisle, one leg on each side standing on the backs of the chairs.
“Susan,” Reggie shouted. “You’re first.”
She nodded, a terrified look in her eyes but her chin held high. Whether it was because that was the only way she could keep her mouth above water or it if it was her confidence, Ben didn’t know. He didn’t care. He reached out a hand, waiting for her to grab it.
He pulled her close. “The hole is down to my right,” he yelled. “You’re going to have to take a huge breath and swim down first, but Reggie and I will help you out.”
She nodded, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.
“Once you’re out, the air in your lungs should help you up. Use your legs more than your arms, so you don’t burn through your oxygen too quickly. Just use your arms to guide you so you don’t run into anything.”
Ben looked up and out the glass ceiling. He could see the rays of light piercing the blue water above them. “We’re only about ten feet from the surface.” It was a guess, and he hoped it was right.
He hoped it was at least close.
He couldn’t afford to continue being wrong.
“You ready?” he asked.
She looked at him. There was water on her face, and her eyes were glistening. She was either in tears or the water had splashed her face. “I — I have to be.”
“Damn right you do,” Reggie yelled.
She took a huge breath.
“Sniff when you’re done,” Ben said. “You’ll get a little more air.”
