Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
MIA
I stand at the edge of the trawler, the dark, foreboding waters of the South Pacific stretching out before me. My heart races, pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest.
Fear grips me hard, a cold, paralyzing sensation that makes breathing difficult. I’ve always been terrified of the ocean and what lies beneath its surface. The thought of plunging into its depths fills me with dread.
Doing it at night?
Terrifying.
Ethan, Hank, Walt, and Gabe all take one giant step off the trawler and plunge into the ocean. I take a step back, shaking my head.
“I c-cant. I can’t do this.” I turn to Rigel, pleading with him. “Please, there has to be another way.”
“Mia, you’ve got this. We need to go.” Rigel is beside me, his presence a steadying force.
He points to Ethan and the others, who slowly drift away from the trawler.
I hesitate, my feet feeling like they’re glued to the deck. I look at Rigel, his calm, determined eyes meeting mine. I have to do this, but the fear consuming me is overwhelming.
He’s right.
I know it.
There is no other way.
I take a deep breath and nod, placing all my trust in the man standing beside me. Rigel wouldn’t make me do this unless he was absolutely certain I would be okay.
Together, we step off the edge and plunge into the icy embrace of the ocean.
The shock of the cold water hits me like a slap, and for a moment, I’m consumed by panic.
My breaths come in short, frantic gasps. Water closes over my head. I hyperventilate, and I thrash, desperate for air.
Then, Rigel’s strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close. He’s there, holding me tight, orienting me in the water. His touch is reassuring, and slowly, my panic starts to subside.
I focus on his steady grip, on the calm in his eyes, and I breathe more evenly.
We bob on the surface, Rigel’s arm still around me. The water is cold and dark, but his presence is a lifeline.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice muffled by the water.
“I think so.” I nod, taking deep breaths to calm myself.
Blake enters the water last, making a large splash. He goes under, then pops back to the surface moments later. Ethan and the others swim toward us while the trawler’s engines cut in, and it moves away.
“Good,” he says. “Let’s do a final check. Everything secure?”
I nod again, feeling the weight of the BCD keeping me afloat. I guess it’s not its weight but rather the air inside of it that keeps me floating.
Rigel signals thumbs down—it’s time to go under.
No. No. No.
I don’t want to do this. Panic rises again as he deflates the air from my BCD. The sudden sinking sensation is terrifying, and I cling to him, my heart racing .
“Trust me.” His steady voice breaks through my fear. “Put your regulator in your mouth.” He makes an exaggerated gesture as he places his regulator into his mouth. Then, he deflates his own BCD.
We descend slowly. The water covers my shoulders and moves up my neck. Then my chin goes under. I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut as the water closes over me.
The world above disappears.
I wish I could say I’m brave, but my initial reaction is sheer panic. The feeling of sinking, the weightlessness, the unfamiliar pressure—it’s all too much.
Rigel’s arm is firm around me, and his powerful kicks keep us steady.
Breathe, Mia. Just breathe.
I tell myself, focusing on the rhythm. In two, three, four. Out two, three, four.
Slowly, the panic begins to fade, replaced by a strange sense of calm. I can breathe easily, and the regulator pushes more than enough air into my lungs.
I do nothing other than that until I’m brave enough to open my eyes. The sight takes my breath away. It’s a world of deep blue, an endless expanse stretching out in every direction. There are no fish, no seaweed—just the vast, serene ocean.
The faint sound of the trawler above, its engines vibrating through the water, enters my chest. The sound gradually fades as the boat moves away, leaving us in a silent, peaceful stillness. This strange, beautiful world beneath the surface is both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
After a few minutes, Rigel signals that it’s time to ascend. He does something to my BCD that slowly lifts me toward the surface. Nearly there, however, we stop and hover for a few minutes until finally, we slowly make our way back to the surface, his arm still around me, guiding me.
The journey is surreal, the blue around us lightening as we get closer to the surface.
Breaking through the surface, I gasp for air, relief flooding through me. I look at Rigel, his face inches from mine .
“How was that?” he asks, a small smile on his lips.
“It was—terrifying at first,” I admit, my voice shaky. “But once we were under, it was incredible. I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was.”
“You did great.” His eyes fill with pride. “Amazing, really.”
I did great because he held me the entire time. Nothing can hurt me when I’m in his arms.
I nod, the fear still there but tempered by the awe of the experience. Together, we float on the surface, waiting for the submarine.
Ethan gathers everyone around, and the men link up until we’re a solid mass floating on the surface.
Seven people with no land in sight.
No boat in sight.
Nothing but the infinite vastness of the Pacific.
And they’re totally chill about it. As if this kind of thing happens all the time.
The trawler is now a distant memory, leaving us in a serene expanse of water. The dark sky above is a stark contrast to the deep black below, and I feel incredibly small in this immense space. We have underwater lights, but those are to be saved for when it’s time to go under. Overhead, countless stars shine, and I trace the few constellations Rigel told me about to distract myself from the inky black water all around me.
Honestly, it takes my breath away.
Ethan, Walt, Gabe, Hank, and Blake form a loose circle around us, their faces relaxed yet vigilant. We have a few hours to wait for the submarine, and despite the danger, a calm camaraderie is sensed among the team.
“So, Mia,” Ethan begins with a teasing grin, “not so bad, right?”
I laugh softly, still feeling the residual adrenaline. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Hear that? We’ve got a new ocean lover on our hands.” Walt chuckles, nudging Blake.
“Better watch out for those sharks, though,” Blake smirks, looking at me with mock seriousness .
“Very funny. No sharks, please.” I roll my eyes, but there’s a hint of genuine worry.
Gabe, ever the joker, dips his ear into the water, listening intently. He does it a couple more times, his expression exaggeratedly serious. Finally, he looks up at me with wide eyes.
“You’re not gonna believe what’s down there.”
My heart skips a beat, and I instinctively grip Rigel’s arm tighter. “Is it a shark? A great white? Am I gonna get eaten?”
“No, no, listen.” Gabe shakes his head, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He puts his ear back in the water and then looks at me expectantly.
Curious and a bit skeptical, I follow his lead and dip my ear into the water. At first, all I hear is the gentle lapping of the waves and my own breathing, but then, faint and distant, a sound reaches me.
It’s hauntingly beautiful, a deep, melodic song that vibrates through the water and into my very bones.
“Do you hear it?” Gabe asks, his voice a whisper of awe.
“What is that?” I lift my head, eyes wide.
“Whale song. Humpback whales.” He grins.
The other guys, clearly familiar with this phenomenon, dip their ears into the water as well. Rigel gives me an encouraging nod, and I immerse myself in the sound again.
The whale song is mesmerizing. It is a series of low moans, high-pitched cries, and complex rhythms that weave together in an underwater symphony.
We all float there, heads partially submerged, listening to the enchanting music of the whales. It’s surreal, and I find myself utterly captivated.
“How far away do you think they are?” I can’t get enough of the whale song.
“Hard to say.” Rigel adjusts his grip on me. “Could be miles.”
“Miles?”
“Yes, whale song travels over great distances. But they could also be nearby. Hard to say.”
“It’s beautiful. ”
I don’t know how long I listen to the whales’ songs, but many moments pass as I lose myself in their incredible beauty.
Sometime later, Gabe pokes his head underwater again, his curiosity piqued. He motions for me to do the same.
“Take a look. You won’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“I think the ocean’s showing off for you, Miss Mia Chen.”
I hesitate momentarily, then take a deep breath and dip my head beneath the surface. The water is clear and blue, and as my eyes adjust, I look around, searching for what Gabe sees.
At first, there’s nothing but the endless expanse of blue. I turn my head slowly, scanning the depths, my heartbeat quickening with anticipation and a touch of fear.
Then, in the far distance, I catch sight of faint, shadowy shapes moving gracefully through the water. They’re barely discernible, just dark forms against the vast blue, but the whale song grows louder, resonating through the water and my chest.
I focus on the shapes, my eyes straining to make them out. Slowly, they coalesce, the dark shadows transforming into the unmistakable forms of whales.
An entire pod of humpback whales.
The sight is breathtaking. Huge, majestic creatures gliding effortlessly through the depths, their massive bodies moving with an elegance that seems impossible for their size.
They’re far away, yet their presence is overwhelming. The whale song becomes more distinct; each note is part of a complex and beautiful symphony that fills the ocean around me.
I surface, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and wonder. “I… I saw them. The whales. They’re beautiful.”
Rigel’s arm tightens around me in a reassuring squeeze. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? This is a moment you’ll never forget.”
He’s right. Despite everything—the danger, the fear, the uncertainty—this experience is a gift. The whale song, the sight of the pod far below, the vastness of the ocean… It’s all so overwhelmingly beautiful.
For the first time, I feel a sense of peace in the water. The fear is still there, but it’s tempered by awe and gratitude. We’re in this together, and whatever comes next, I know I’ll carry this moment with me always.
Floating on the surface, we listen to the haunting whale song for what seems like hours. Suddenly, a new sensation grips me—a faint, rhythmic churning in my chest, different from the smooth vibrations of the whale song.
It’s a chopping, churning beat that pulses through the water.
I glance at Ethan, who looks down into the depths. He signals to the rest of the team, and they all follow his gaze, their expressions shifting from relaxed to alert. My heart skips a beat as I try to understand what they’re seeing.
Rigel catches my eye and nods reassuringly, signaling for me to look down. I take a deep breath, brace myself, and dip my face back into the water. The clear blue stretches endlessly, but as my eyes adjust, I notice something different—a dark shape, faint but distinct, moving toward us from the depths.
At first, it’s just a shadow, a massive black shape emerging from the murkiness, but as it gets closer, its form becomes clearer. The sleek and silent submarine approaches from below. It’s both mesmerizing and intimidating, a silent leviathan making its way toward us.
A dark, imposing presence moving with deliberate grace, the submarine rises until it’s about forty feet below the surface. The vibrations resonate through my chest, blending with the rhythm of my heartbeat.
Ethan signals to Walt and Gabe. “You two, get down there and communicate with the sub. We’ll follow once the locker is open.”
Walt and Gabe give the thumbs-down signal and descend. I watch them go, knowing I’ll soon be doing the same. Anticipation tightens in my chest.
“We’re next. This is going to be a bit more intense.” Rigel turns to me, his expression calm but serious. “You’ll feel the pressure change as we go deeper. Just remember to clear your ears and keep breathing steadily.”
I nod, taking a deep breath to steady myself .
Down below, a hatch opens near Walt and Gabe. They signal to us on the surface, and it’s time once again to dive.
Rigel and Blake guide me as we begin our descent. The water presses in around us, the pressure increasing with every foot we go down.
My ears start to ache, and I remember Rigel’s instructions, swallowing and blowing gently to equalize the pressure. It helps, but the sensation is still unnerving.
Rigel and Blake keep me steady, guiding me toward the open locker. Walt and Gabe have it ready, the outer door open to reveal a water-filled chamber.
Rigel squeezes my arm reassuringly as we move inside the cold metal of the submarine’s hull.
Once inside the locker, the space is tight, just big enough for our group. Rigel and Blake position me near the back, making room for Ethan and Hank as they follow us down.
Walt and Gabe are the last to come inside.
They enter and secure the outer hatch, leaving us trapped inside. Panic once again surfaces, but I push it back. Rigel wouldn’t bring me down if it wasn’t safe, and none of them appear nervous. It’s like a walk in the park for them.
However, the sensation of the water surrounding us in such a confined space is disorienting—claustrophobic—but I focus on Rigel’s presence, his calmness grounding me. I’d rather be outside, in the ocean, than in this small space.
Walt secures the outer door, spinning the wheel until it locks with a tight seal. He pushes a button, and slowly, the water drains out of the chamber. The feeling of weightlessness disappears, replaced by the heaviness of the dive gear.
As the water level drops, the pressure on my body eases. Once again, there’s a solid floor beneath my feet. It’s a surreal transition, going from floating to standing, the dive gear weighing heavily on my shoulders and back.
When the last of the water is pumped out, the submarine crew signals to us from the other side of the inner door. Rigel indicates I can take the regulator out of my mouth. I do so, breathing the cool, dry air of the submarine for the first time.
The inner door opens, and the crew welcomes us aboard. The stark, utilitarian interior of the submarine contrasts with the vast blue ocean we just left. I look around, taking it all in, and the reality of our situation hits me once more.
How did this become my life?
“Permission to come aboard?” Ethan steps forward, shaking hands with the crew members. “Thank you for the extraction. We’re glad to be here.”
The crew leads us further inside, and I follow, my legs feeling weak from the adrenaline and exertion. Rigel stays close, his presence a comforting constant. We’ve made it this far, and though the journey isn’t over, I feel a renewed sense of hope.
“You were incredible,” Rigel says softly, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Fierce.”
“Thanks to you.” The enormity of what I just accomplished settles in.
The next few days on the submarine pass in a blur. Hours turn into days, and we adapt to our underwater refuge’s cramped, controlled environment.
Charlie team is given a small area with accommodations—bunks stacked four high on either side of a narrow corridor. The submarine crew is polite but distant, performing their duties with military precision and avoiding unnecessary interaction.
The isolation is both comforting and suffocating. Time loses meaning in the windowless expanse, and I measure the days by our routines—meals, sleep, and moments of quiet reflection.
Then, one day, Ethan receives a message from the bridge. “We’ll be entering San Francisco harbor in less than a day.”
A mixture of relief and anxiety washes over me. This part of my journey is ending, but what awaits me on the surface?