Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Angie sat with a slumped, defeated pose when they set out on the boats.
Her plan to delay them hadn’t worked. They’d taken the sabotaged spearguns with them after the previous group of divers, including Celia, informed their group that the spearguns were inspected recently and were in good working order.
Then Stefan and Ken had brought along another half-filled crate of them, the remainder from their shop.
Nick informed them of the game plan before dividing the thirty of them into groups of four or five and setting out on different boats.
They were to be dropped off on a remote stretch of water where mer had been spotted.
Then they would spread out and dive down in pairs to seven hundred feet.
She and Stefan asked to be grouped together.
Angie scanned the other eight divers on their boat. “Where did all these people come from? I’ve never seen half of them.”
“Oh, the local government is also paying divers to come out and hunt mer. So we’ve got people coming from Homer, Kodiak, and Dutch Harbor.”
The boat’s mortar quieted to a low hum and the vessel slowed to a stop.
Angie’s heart rate spiked, hoping nobody noticed her incessant fidgeting with her diving gloves.
Pulling them on and off, twisting the fingers together, and squeezing her BCD’s weights with a grip so tight she constricted the blood flow to her hands, the bristly texture grating against her palms. Her temples pulsed when she thought of seeing Adrielle or Cyrus or the mer-queen.
Or worse, Kaden.
She was indiscernible from the other divers holding a speargun, but she couldn’t imagine him recognizing her in her diving getup and killing her.
Or watching Stefan spear and kill the man she loved.
Her heart splintered into pieces at the notion.
She prayed they would be in the palace and not out fighting this battle.
Their captain gave them the okay sign to don their tanks and begin their dives.
Moving at a deliberate pace, she let the other divers go ahead of her while she dropped weights into her BCD and strapped on her tank. The diving pair ahead of them left a red and white diving flag pinned to a buoy, jostled along by the small currents.
She and Stefan were the last to go. Angie took a deep breath, bracing herself and rolling backward into the water after him.
They descended, lower and lower until they reached four hundred feet, once more encircled by stifling gloom. Stefan turned his flashlight on first, and she followed, hanging back so she swam by his feet.
A beam of light nearly blinded her, and Angie held up one hand. The other two divers from their group approached, and one pointed to their left.
For a time, they found nothing.
Angie’s breathing slowed. Maybe they would make it out without any casualties and then report that they found nothing. Then Nick might stop his crazy venture.
A long, graceful form darted from the void, the flashlight beam illuminating bright lavender scales. Stefan and the other two divers stayed as still as the rock and coral formations around them.
It was too late.
The form came into view, a disembodied, pale face and tattooed shoulders appearing, and the merman stared them down. Waving their flashlights around revealed three more mermaids and mermen wielding golden lances and tridents.
They were surrounded.
Each mer wore markings on their faces, chests, or shoulders, designating them as royal sentinels.
One diver from the other pair made a hand motion, holding up four fingers, pointing to the divers, and then the mer, followed by an okay sign.
Angie suspected she knew their meaning. Four of us, four of them, perfect.
An agonizing stillness befell them, as if each were waiting for the other side to strike first.
Stefan floated frozen beside her, sucking through his rebreather in hitched inhales and exhales.
One diver raised their speargun with slow, controlled movements, and pulled the trigger. Did the mer want them to attack? Angie figured there had been enough time that they could have stopped the driver from pulling the trigger.
It failed. The diver looked around and attempted to pull it again, and again. No use.
The mer struck.
Without Angie’s help, it was three against four, and the mer were in their element.
She shrank back, watching in horror as a mermaid grabbed one of the divers, her tail wrapped around his body like a snake strangling its prey, and snapped his neck.
The diver went limp, speargun floating away from his hands and drifted down into the depths.
The mermaid released him, leaving his body to the deep-sea creatures’ mercy.
The other diver speared that same mermaid and shot their speargun at another, killing two, but not before he took a trident in the stomach. The diver’s hand flew to their abdomen, blood appearing as a sanguine algae bloom.
One of the two remaining mermen struck at the dying diver’s Heliox tank with a thick lance, puncturing a hole in it.
Stefan raised his speargun, one that Angie had jammed, and attempted to fire at the merman. His trigger stuck while the merman stabbed the other diver again with the lance before letting them fall, still flailing, to the depths, where they would bleed out. If they didn’t suffocate to death first.
Angie’s head pounded. She knew she should help, but paralysis seized her.
Two more divers, likely from the one of the other groups, approached behind them and one fired a spear, ending the merman, and before the last merman struck, he fired a well-aimed shot while the merman rushed for them, trident out.
Another merman came into view, at first a disembodied head and shoulders, before a maroon tail came into view. Stefan raised shaking arms, aiming his speargun at his heart.
If he’d taken one of the jammed spearguns, the merman could kill him. If it wasn’t, he would kill the merman. Angie didn’t know which was the worse option.
The merman stopped in front of Angie, eyes flashing in recognition.
Cyrus. He darted side to side, up and down, preventing Stefan from getting a clean shot, but he did not strike at them.
Angie had to act fast. With stiff, quivering hands, she reached into her pockets and dropped the weights from her buoyancy vest. Used her respirator to inflate the vest by a breath, enough for her to start floating upward, slow and safe.
She held one palm upward and placed her other fist over it with her thumb pointing up.
Then she moved both hands upward, signaling an emergency and to end the dive.
Stefan nodded and lowered his speargun, letting Cyrus get away.
He grabbed her D ring, and she grabbed his, and together, they kicked their way upward.
Stefan removed his rebreather as soon as they were back on the boat. “Are you alright? What happened down there?”
“She good?” The captain eyed her.
“There’s something wrong with my BCD’s valve.” She went still, letting relief sink in that Cyrus escaped.
And yet, she couldn’t stop the guilt that crept into her mind, staring at her feet and focusing on her knees. If she hadn’t compromised the spearguns, perhaps the divers that held them would have had a chance to defend themselves.
Fuck, it was her fault that the divers died because their spearguns were jammed. If only they had stopped to inspect them, like they should have. The extras from Stefan and Ken wouldn’t have been enough on their own to arm all the divers.
“Okay, good. Thought I was going to have to take you to the hospital, and then explain to your dad why I let you get hurt.” Stefan took a seat. “I’ll stay with you until the others get back.” He swallowed hard. “Whoever’s left.”
A pain emerged in the back of Angie’s throat, and she removed her Heliox tank and set it in the corner with Stefan’s. The captain set to work on pushing them against the side of the boat and standing them flush against each other.
Minutes later, three haggard-appearing divers climbed aboard with them. Two dragged a large net onto the deck, and then climbed back down the boat ladder. The next two nets required the strength of all three people to bring it aboard.
In the first net, a mermaid struggled, curled into a ball in the net that was too snug for her. Another net held a merman, his tail the same tangerine shade as the mermaid’s, and Angie’s eyelids grew stiff at the sight. Lifemates.
While Stefan and the three divers talked of the other two they lost, Angie craned her neck to see what was in the third net.
She wished she hadn’t looked.
A maroon tail peeked through the gaps in the second net and Cyrus lay still, his chest rising and falling with each weak breath. Angie stared, one hand covering her mouth as she struggled to hold back dry heaves. Her eyes teared up, and her chest tightened.
The boat lurched forward and took off. Cyrus’ eyes fluttered open and hands slapped on the floor. He made eye contact with Stefan and the two divers who caught him, and last, with her. His eyes were haunted, lips parted as if he was going to say something, but never did.
Angie couldn’t take her eyes off him, her hands clasped together in praying position, praying to her ancestors, to Buddha, to whatever other deities dwelled around them that he would survive this ordeal.
At the same time, her muscles tightened with dread, and hopelessness immobilized her.
More bodies awaited them when they got back to the coast. Angie wasn’t ready to see the strangled and speared bodies, some left a fair distance from the shoreline, begging the question of how the mer had gotten so far inland.
Behind her, the divers dragged the nets to the beach with the mermaid and Cyrus inside.
Stefan walked ahead of her, and Angie’s feet weighed a ton. She dragged behind him. It tormented her, and she replayed the scene over and over in her head. Letting Cyrus escape. Seeing his captured body dragged onto the boat, the fear in his weary, rugged face when their gazes locked.
Now, Nick and his crew would take him and do with him what they would. Would they realize he was a prince? The thought sickened her to her core, and she put her hands on her knees, breaths heavy and labored.
A raucous voice snapped her out of it. “Angie, is that you? Oh, thank God you survived!” Ken staggered toward her, appearing breathless, his bright umber eyes wide with fear.
“I heard the screams earlier, came down to investigate. Saw them all, dead or dying.” He screwed his eyes shut and opened them again.
“Nick is coming too. He’s bringing some others with him. ”
“H-how did they end up so far from the beach? Did the mer come ashore?”
“Yes, but not in the way you think. They climbed the rocks, the pillars under whatever’s left of the gangway. Brought them even closer.” Ken shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself.
“Damn,” Angie muttered under her breath. She saw the way Kaden scaled those rocks that night they stared at the stars. A strength the mer could use to their advantage.
“Okay, good, you’re all here.” Nick panted, approaching the two of them with a gaggle of armed workers around him, Bàba trailing behind, each donning their trusty handguns or pistols. Nick visually scanned the periphery, his lips forming silent numbers as he counted the bodies. “How many are dead?”
“Six total.” Bàba shook his head, lips tight and expression grim.
“Yes.” Ken hung his head.
“Angela, you saw what happened?” Nick’s voice was taut.
“No, I was with the other divers, like you asked.” She scowled at him, her words slicing through the air as they left her mouth to reach his ears.
“Oh, right. You did go. See these?” He raised his black semi-automatic pistol, pointing toward the sky and waving it around.
“You all have one. All employees will keep their guns with them at all times. Got it?” Nick faced Angie.
His eyes narrowed into warning slits. “Even you, Angela. Since you’re the boss’ daughter, you especially have to protect yourself. ”
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do if we don’t comply, fire us? Please do,” one dock worker grumbled, drawing some cackles from the crew who’d come with Nick. Angie had to hold herself back from chuckling with them.
Beside them, Bàba appeared to stare over their heads at something indiscernible.
Nick’s nostrils flared, and his biceps bulged underneath his long-sleeved top. He turned a harsh glare to each worker, finally landing on Angie. “Yes! You will be fired. Or, I will throw you to the mer myself because I won’t have your stupidity on my hands and bringing us down!”
“No. I don’t feel safe carrying my gun on me when I’m at work. I’m sorry. Too many things could go wrong.” Angie thought of Kaden.
She had to find him and tell him his brother was in their custody. Surely, he and the mer-queen and Adrielle would be beside themselves fretting over him. She knew she would be, if it were Mia in Cyrus’ place.
Mia. The betrayal still stung like a swarm of angry wasps. She still hadn’t spoken to her sister, but Mia hadn’t reached out again since yesterday, either. Angie told herself she needed more time, wait until her head cooled.
“Beibei,” Bàba cut into her thoughts. “You will bring your gun with you. That is an order.” His voice burst forth, a foghorn tearing through the air between them.
She looked to him, aghast, and his countenance softened.
“I refuse to leave you vulnerable. Do it, or you will not come near the docks again.”
Angie steeled herself and forced the word out. “Okay.”
“Good. Now if there is nothing else, we should go. Order the cleanup crew to move our fallen crew and pay them some respect.” Bàba motioned at them to leave with a swift wave of his hand.
Angie waited for them to walk ahead of her and dragged her feet behind them, unease sticking to her like double-sided tape underneath her skin.