by Brian Keene
Paolo chuckled. “It is not like the movies. There are no gangs or riots, and no one has molested me in the shower.”
“You almost sound disappointed.”
Paolo’s smile didn’t falter. He shrugged.
“I read a lot,” he said. “And play chess.”
“Chess? That’s good. You really needed to work on improving your game anyway. I’m glad you’ve got the time to do it now.”
“Ah, very good. I have missed your sense of humor.” Paolo’s smile slowly faded, but he kept his tone cordial and warm. “And Abhi? How is he these days?”
“He’s married.”
“Married? You don’t say!”
“Yep. Happily married now. They tied the knot a few months ago. They’re living together in Italy.”
Paolo shook his head in apparent wonder, and was then quiet for a moment.
“So…” Carrie stared at him, waiting.
“Yes, I’m sorry. The thought of marriage … I had hoped that one day…”
“How about we get down to business, Paolo?”
“Very well.” He sounded sad. “My lawyer explained why I asked you to come?”
“Yes.” Carrie nodded. “Your conspiracy trial starts later this month. He wants me to testify that I knew about the hard drives and your secret cell phone all along, and that my turning you over to the authorities was part of the setup plan, because we suspected that various individuals on the embassy staff might be compromised by Alpinus Biofutures.”
“Exactly,” Paolo said. “And did he mention anything else?”
Paolo’s eyes darted to the guards and back to her. He tapped the phone receiver with his index finger, reminding her that the conversation was most likely being recorded.
Now, for the first time, Carrie smiled. It felt good, after not having smiled for so long.
“Yes, he did, in fact. He mentioned you have a bank account that the authorities don’t yet know about. He also mentioned that Alpinus Biofutures was making untraceable direct deposits into that bank account. And he told me that you would split the money with me if I agreed to lie under oath with that bullshit story you concocted.”
Paolo gaped at her through the glass, almost dropping the phone. Sweat stood out on his forehead as he fumbled with the receiver. When he’d recovered, he shook his head.
“Carrie! Always such a joker! Though, I have to say, this one is not very funny.”
“No, Paolo. It’s not a joke. But you are.”
“Carrie, please. I … I know what I did was wrong…”
“Oh, really? Well, that’s a big step for you, isn’t it, Paolo? Knowing what you did was wrong? That’s a first. Did you find Jesus while you were in here, too?”
“Please,” he begged. “Please now, just hear me out. These things you are saying—they aren’t true. My lawyer would have never said those things. I know that you are angry, and you have every right to be. I know that I can’t begin to make things up to you. I’ll never be able to do that. And I know you probably won’t understand, but I was … what is the expression? Between a rock and a hard place? I was trapped, Carrie. Trapped between Alpinus and my loyalty to you. I didn’t know what they would do if I betrayed them. All along, I thought the best way to keep you safe—to keep you from harm—was to do as they asked.”
“I see? So you did all this for me, Paolo? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I won’t deny there was a financial gain, at first. But when I learned what they were truly capable of—when I saw that you were in danger—yes, I did it for you, Carrie. I still care about you. I always have. The truth is … I love you. I’ve changed. I know how much I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve your trust, but all I have in here is time, and all I do with it is think about you. I want to make things right. I know I can make things right. I just need the time to do it. If you are willing to testify on my behalf, my lawyer is confident I can get a reduced sentence. Perhaps even an acquittal. I know I have a lot to make up for, but this gives me the opportunity to do just that.”
Carrie stared at him, long and hard, until finally, Paolo looked away.
“You need time?” she asked. “You’re asking me to give you time?”
“Yes. That’s what it will take between us. Time.”
“I need time, too, Paolo.”
His expression brightened again. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
“No. That means I think we should both get all the time we deserve. You, especially. I think a conviction on three charges of conspiracy, and the nice, lengthy jail term that follows should give you all the time you need.”
“Carrie … please don’t do this.”
“I already have.”
“Goddamn it, Carrie…”
“You know, after we recovered that poison gland, Dr. Barbet told us your brain was mutating. After we found out about your betrayal—and the despicable fucking lengths you went through—I told myself maybe it was because of that. Maybe it was what the venom had done to your brain. But it wasn’t, because you were doing those things long before you got attacked. This is who you are, Paolo. This is who you’ve always been.”
“Not anymore,” he insisted. “Carrie, I’ve changed. I can prove it.”
“No, Paolo. You really can’t.”
“I love you, goddamn it. Don’t you see? Did you hear me? I love you, Carrie. And I know that you still love me, too. Maybe you can’t admit it right now, but I know that deep down inside, you still love me.”
“I…”
“Please,” he begged again. “I know you want to help me. I know you’ll do it.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Carrie…”
She stood up, still clutching the phone.
“No, seriously, Paolo. Don’t hold your breath. We both know I could always hold my breath longer than you.”
He stared up at her from behind the glass, tears running down his cheeks. His eyes were wide, wounded circles of pain.
“Goodbye, Paolo.”
Carrie hung up the phone and turned her back on him. She nodded at the guard, indicating that she was finished with her visit. Then she took a deep breath and held it.
She didn’t breathe again until she was outside the prison walls, and the sun shone down upon her.
EPILOGUE
Off the coast of Mauritius, life on the seafloor had finally come to an end. The once warm waters were now frigid and dark, even in the places where the feeble sunlight was able to penetrate. Still, even in death, there was movement amidst the gloom.
But that didn’t mean the ocean was alive.
Shrimp and crabs were dragged along the bottom by the undertow, their carcasses saved from decomposition only by the cold temperatures. Armies of deflated jellyfish floated on the currents, lifeless and drifting. A school of dead tuna bobbed in their way, tossed and spun like driftwood by the undercurrents. Below them, the corpses of sea anemones still perched precariously to the seafloor with their adhesive feet—sticky even in death—but their once vibrant, multi-colored tentacles were now gray and brittle, and no longer waved. A female octopus lay frozen in her nest, her arms contorted in a reflection of the agony of her final moments. A string of frozen eggs hung above her lair, swaying in the current. Their once soft outer shells were now hardened, as were the embryos inside of them. A deceased green sea turtle lay wedged in between two large rocks. The turtle was the last of its kind in these waters, and had died alone, without ever finding a mate. Two dugongs floated slowly to the surface, their bodies swollen with gas and putrescence. Orange-and-white striped clownfish lay scattered amidst the banks of now colorless, broken coral, and massive schools of sapphire devils littered holes and crevices, their color now a permanent black. The bottlenose dolphins were gone, having moved on when they sensed the change around them. So, too, had the Great White shark, when it was faced with the knowledge that it was no longer a predator, but mere prey.
In the silence, a blue whale sang out from somewhere farther out t
o sea, beyond the dark depths. The tune was a haunting, phantom melody that still echoed of the past—but its mournful song would never be answered again. Not in these waters.
There was no life here, off the coast of Mauritius. It was a cold, silent, darkened wasteland. Nothing lived. Nothing moved, except for dead things, caught in the currents.
Then, something squirmed amid the devastation, something small and new, and very much alive. Something that, even in birth, was already dark and predatory.
One by one, the eggs began to hatch. Dozens of spindly, pointed arms pierced the hardened shells, and waving tentacles pushed their way through, flexing and stretching.
Slowly, the already frigid waters began to grow colder.
The darkness deepened, spreading in concentric circles.
And the newly hatched creatures began to hunt, searching for new areas still full of life. Soon they would feed.
Then, when the feast was over, they would breed and make more of their kind.
ALSO BY BRIAN KEENE
THE LOST LEVEL SERIES
Hole in the World
The Lost Level
Return to the Lost Level
THE LEVI STOLTZFUS SERIES
Dark Hollow
Ghost Walk
A Gathering of Crows
Last of the Albatwitches
THE RISING SERIES
The Rising
City of the Dead
The Rising: Selected Scenes from the End of the World
The Rising: Deliverance
THE EARTHWORM GODS SERIES
Earthworm Gods
Earthworm Gods II: Deluge
Earthworm Gods: Selected Scenes from the End of the World
NON-SERIES
Alone
The Cage
Castaways
The Complex
Darkness on the Edge of Town
Dead Sea
Entombed
Ghoul
The Girl on the Glider
Jack’s Magic Beans
Kill Whitey
An Occurrence in Crazy Bear Valley
Scratch
Take the Long Way Home
Tequila’s Sunrise
Terminal
Urban Gothic
COLLECTIONS
Blood on the Page
All Dark, All the Time
Trigger Warnings
Where We Live and Die
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brian Keene is the author of more than forty books, including Darkness on the Edge of Town, Dead Sea, Dark Hollow, Ghoul, and The Rising. Keene has also written for media properties such as Doctor Who, The X-Files, Hellboy, and Masters of the Universe. His numerous awards and honors include the World Horror Grand Master Award. He lives in Pennsylvania. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Part One: As Below
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Part Two: So Above
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Also by Brian Keene
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
PRESSURE. Copyright © 2016 by St. Martin’s Press, LLC. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.stmartins.com
Cover photographs: water by Andrey Artykov / Getty Images; diver © Nigel Riches / Offset; blood by Alik Mulikov / Shutterstock
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Keene, Brian, author.
Title: Pressure / Brian Keene.
Description: First edition. | New York: Thomas Dunne Books/ St. Martin’s Press, 2016.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015051265 | ISBN 9781250071347 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781466882492 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Marine biologists—Fiction. | Scientific expeditions—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Action & Adventure. | FICTION / Sea Stories. | GSAFD: Adventure fiction. | Sea stories. | Suspense fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3611.E3397 P74 2016 | DDC 813'.6—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015051265
e-ISBN 9781466882492
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First Edition: June 2016
