soon as Creed was within twenty feet, Emma swam between two house-size boulders, her feet flipping gently, propelling her ever deeper into the maze.
As she passed by another boulder twice the size of the first, she stopped, her breath catching in her throat when she glimpsed the outline of something with a sharper edge and straighter lines, not the rounded contours of objects natural to the ocean world. As her headlamp beam played over the object, her excitement waned. It was a boat. Not nearly big enough to be the Anna Maria, nor as old.
A boat would be underestimating the craft that appeared to be more a luxury yacht, shiny white and fairly new at that. By the looks of it, the craft had been freshly sunk, lacking the barnacles and lichen that quickly laid claim to objects resting on the ocean floor.
Disappointed, Emma made a mental note of the name on the stern. Pelageya. Emma checked her dive computer. She had sixty minutes left on this cylinder before she’d have to surface. If she wanted to find the Anna Maria, she’d have to move on soon.
She wondered if this was the boat Creed referred to, and if so, how long Creed would want to investigate the wrecked yacht before they could continue on. Emma glanced behind her.
The light from Creed’s headlamp reflected off the huge boulders as he swung it right and left. He had yet to focus in on what lay ahead of Emma.
Emma approached the yacht, making note of the large hole in the port bow. As her gaze panned upward, she caught movement behind the glass portal of the enclosed helm.
Curious, Emma swam closer and pushed open the door to the cabin. With a quick glance behind her to locate her dive buddy, who was closing in fast, she eased through the narrow opening, careful not to let her tank and BCD get hung up in the confines of the interior.
As she neared the few short steps up into the helm, her regulator hose snagged on something behind her.
She reached back to unhook the hose so that she could move on. Unable to pull free, she reached out to the walls in front of her, ready to push back the way she’d come.
As she laid her palms flat on the smooth surface of the helm’s doorway, it gave way and a bloated face drifted out of the helm, coming straight at her, eyes white-filmed and vacant.
Emma let out a squeal into her regulator, the sudden appearance of the bloated face igniting her flight instinct. She back-paddled to get away, her clinical side overwhelmed into panic mode.
Something gripped her ankles and pulled hard, jerking her free of whatever had hold of her and out of the cabin.
Realizing she was breathing too fast, Emma tried to calm herself, but her head spun and a gray fog threatened her vision.
Creed’s hands clasped her shoulders in an iron grip, forcing her to focus on him through her mask.
He tapped her regulator, as a reminder to breathe normally or she’d use up all her air before she could resurface. His gloved thumb and forefinger formed an O for the signal that she was okay.
Emma’s gaze clung to Creed’s as she fought to slow her breathing and regain control of her senses. When at last she could think straight, she motioned for her and Creed to go up. Her heart still pounded hard against her eardrums, drowning out the sound of air moving through the regulator.
Creed refused to move, pointing toward the yacht.
Emma shook her head and jabbed a finger upward, wanting to surface immediately, to get away from the floating, ghostlike body she’d seen in the cabin.
Creed squeezed her shoulders, tapped her chest with his forefinger and signaled okay.
No, I’m not okay, she wanted to say. As a nurse, she’d seen blood and gore. But she’d never had a body float out at her while diving. The abrupt appearance had thrown her off-kilter, and her pulse had yet to slow to normal.
Creed pointed to his chest and then to the yacht.
Emma shook her head, refusing to go back inside the confining space. A shiver rippled across her at the thought.
Creed’s fingers squeezed her shoulders once more and he swam back into the yacht, leaving her hovering over the deck.
He better not get stuck. If so, he’s on his own.
Several minutes passed, each longer than the last.
A shadow moved over the boat, shifting, swirling, circling, like a...
Emma glanced up. A great white shark hovered over the boat between rocky bottom and the open sky above. The sea lion that had been swimming along with them had disappeared. Her heart racing, Emma froze, praying Creed would remain inside the yacht until the shark grew bored and swam away. If Creed emerged with the body, the shark could attack, seeking the ready food source.
The sleek sea creature seemed to know Emma was there and wanted to toy with her as she debated whether to stay put or join Creed in the yacht with the dead man.
Emma kept an eye on the shark, checked her watch and her air supply several times before Creed finally emerged from the cabin.
A quick glance upward reassured her that the shark had indeed grown tired of waiting and moved on.
Creed backed out fins first, his hand clutching the arm of the dead man. Just what a shark might be interested in.
Emma shivered and looked again, praying the shark truly had moved on and hadn’t swam out of view around a big boulder, intent on backtracking and surprising them.
A shadow swirled over them. Her heart pounding, Emma glanced up, only to see a school of lingcod blocking the sunlight between rock formations.
Their best bet was to get out with the body as quickly as possible. She touched Creed’s shoulder and made the hand signal for danger, steepled her hands for shark and circled her finger, then motioned up with her thumb.
He nodded, his head swiveling in an attempt to find the shark.
With so many big rocks surrounding them, it would be difficult to see the shark until they swam up on it or vice versa.
Emma kicked out, moving swiftly through the water, anxious to get away from the shark before it decided they were fair game for lunch.
Chapter 2
When Creed had back-paddled out of the yacht’s cabin and turned to face his dive partner, he’d been happy to see Emma had shaken out of her panic. Although she still glanced around nervously.
Good girl.
When she’d indicated a shark in the area, he knew how dangerous it could be floating a dead man alongside them. With a brief glance at the body hovering like a specter in the underwater current, Emma kicked off, heading back the way they’d come, probably wanting to get out of the water before the shark returned.
Creed grasped the dead man’s arm and followed, carefully dragging the man through the narrow crevices until they cleared the maze and swam out into the open. All the while he looked over his shoulder for the shark.
A school of small shiny fish swarmed around him, pecking
