Chapter 18 Under Depths and Deceit
EIGHTEEN
UNDER DEPTHS AND DECEIT
Sabrina
I ditch my bag immediately, misjudging how much more weight it puts on me, dragging behind me and down into the water.
Kicking vigorously, desperately, I can barely keep my head above the surface now that I’ve lost the momentum from pushing off the wall.
My heavy boots tire out my legs, and by the time I make it to the back wall and grab hold of it, I’m panting.
With adrenaline ratcheting up my pulse, the bottom of my feet find a large rock and I take a moment to breathe.
I reach down and yank off my boots and let them sink, shivering all over. The water is freezing.
Taking another fitful breath, I drift off the rock and use the wall to guide me above the hole. Feeling around the opening with my foot, I close my eyes and say a couple of small prayers.
I can always turn around.
I let my body slide into the water until I’m entirely submerged within it.
Opening my eyes underneath, I blink out the immediate need to keep them closed and wait until they clear.
Imagining I’m as long and lithe as Darolus and as brave as him, I curse under my breath, knowing I’m the opposite of him in nearly every way possible.
Once I’m able to see as best as I can, I sink lower and slide my hand into the hole, pushing slightly off the ground and swimming headfirst into the darkness.
A small current pushes me to the left, similar to the current outside, and my body drifts into the rocky, jagged walls.
Feeling something slimy slide across my bare arms along the wall, I jerk away and push against it with my feet and deeper into the darkness.
Pressure and murky shadows surround me from every side.
When I can no longer see, my pulse skyrockets and I panic, opening my mouth and accidentally taking in a large gulp of water. Coughing, I accidentally take in more, exhausting the remaining oxygen in my body quickly.
Beginning to flail, searching for the end and being pushed into the deepening nooks of the wall, I grapple with my hands, hoping for anything to hold onto that I can use to lead me along and to the other side.
When I feel like I’m about to faint and my body is too heavy to keep moving, I push off the bottom one last time with my feet.
Emerging from the water with a gasp, something grabs me and hauls me out.
“Got you. Got you. You’re okay. Breathe.” It’s Weston’s voice and I crack open my eyes to see his furry bearded face sharply lit up in the darkness. “There. See? Breathe.” He turns to shout over his shoulder. “Mickie, get your ass over here! I’ve got her.”
I push Weston away and turn over, hacking out water and spittle for the second time too soon, cursing vehemently from the pounding now in my head. He pulls back my hair as I cough out my lungs. “Mickie? Where are you!?” he shouts, grabbing my shoulder to steady me.
I push him away again. “I’m fine. Really.”
He releases me and stands, reaching out his hand afterward to help me up. I take it slowly, wiping the water off my chin. “It’s good to see you, Sabs.”
“It’s good to see you too,” I bark out, my throat feeling garbled and ticklish. I cough out some more.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I missed your attitude. I guess coming back for another look was lucky on our part. And yours.”
“Annora?” I ask. “I got the note.”
He chuckles and pats my back. “She’s got that bleeding heart of hers. If you got that note, then where have you been?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
“I—” I start to come up with a quick explanation as to why, but I get cut off.
“Boss, come see this!” Mickie abruptly calls out from somewhere deeper in the room.
“We’ll catch up in a bit,” he says before turning on his heel and walking into the darkness with his flashlight, and up a couple of stairs to the concrete landing above.
His light fades as he walks out of sight and behind several large crates with an array of items on and around them.
“This better be good because Sabrina is fucking drowning over here and we’ve already wasted enough goddamned time—”
He goes silent.
Shaking the rest of the water off, I glance back at it and the dark pit behind me, hearing it though not seeing it in the deep gloom.
Peering around, there are no cracks in the ceiling on this side, and the room is completely dark unlike Darolus’s home on the other side.
Shivering, I follow Weston up the stairs and into the room.
“There’s something you guys need to know… ”
My words fade away as I see what Mickie and Weston are gazing at.
High-tech military-grade alien-human hybrid weapons.
In large open crates across the floor are hundreds of weapons of several varieties for anyone to come upon.
Lit up by Mickie and Weston’s flashlights, the gleaming silver and white guns and blades glinted so brightly they appeared like their own light sources.
“Holy shit,” Weston murmurs, taking the blade Mickie hands him and testing it out. It cuts through the air like a whip. “Now this is what I’m talking about. How many do you think there are?” he asks offhandedly, handing me the blade as he approaches a gun.
“Based on how many are in this one,” Mickie says, opening a smaller crate filled with more weapons and ammo, “and what’s in here. Maybe a couple of dozen to a couple hundred units per crate.”
“Holy shit. One of these weapons would be enough to purchase the material from Whicker. Hell, it might be enough to buy his entire second ship off him.” Weston laughs again, louder this time, and Mickie joins in with a hoot.
“Coming back for another look was a better idea on Annora’s part then I gave her crap for.
She’s never going to let me live this down when we arrive back at the ship with Sabs and some of these in tow. ”
I test the blade out, slashing it like a knife, finding the sharp metal to be precise and light-weight for its quick momentum.
It is too light to be made of any type of metal I knew of and my knives were crafted from steel.
Putting the blade down, I scan the room once again.
“Guys, we shouldn’t linger. We need to get back to the ship as soon as possible. Just leave everything.”
“Are you serious?” Weston guffaws. “We have been searching tirelessly for weeks for something Whicker might trade with us—and I offered him The Wreck and us as crewhands, just to show you how desperate it’s getting out there.
He says we’ve got nothing and there’s too many needy souls wanting what he has.
We have to bring him something good. Something like these. ”
“Sabs, this is Lurker shit.” Mickie shoots his beam at me. “This is the stuff that the military confiscates and goes on the black market for millions. We’ve got to take it with us,” Mickie argues. “If we don’t, someone else will.”
“No.” I frown, cold, quivering, and anxious. “We don’t because this shit isn’t yours. It belongs to someone else—”
Weston laughs. “Who? A couple of ghosts? Don’t be pathetic. Annora and Tata made me come all the way back here to search for you—”
“—search for me? Based on recent dialogue, you’re still searching for shit to sell. Not me.”
“We need a way off this planet. This isn’t just about you, it’s about all of us—”
“Then maybe we should try a different avenue than working with a criminal!” I don’t want to take from Darolus, remembering how adamant he was that no one found out about this place. Feeling off about the weapons, I step forward. “Look, let’s calm down and figure this out.”
“Calm? You’re the one being ridiculous. These weapons can change our entire lives. This is the find of the century!”
“Don’t you think that’s a little off for you to discover so many weapons like this out here where all The Dreadnaut’s military has been for the past year and a half?
Or why there’s new growth on Earth to begin with?
It doesn’t matter because none of us are going to make it out of here if we don’t go right now!
” If these weapons are the reason Darolus wants no one to find out about this place, I think I’m beginning to understand. “Let’s go!”
I’ve heard enough about Earth’s history and its demise to know anything to do with Lurkers shouldn’t be trusted. Yeah, their weapons sell for an exorbitant amount for how few of them there are but their history is a dark one, the darkest…
I head for the closed double doors at the very back of the room that’s behind all the crates, thinking it’s the exit. Not hearing Weston or Mickie follow me, I spin around ready to yell at them. “There is a naga that lives here that will fucking kill you guys if he finds you down here—”
“Shut the fuck up, Sabs, and help us—and if you don’t, you might as well stay the fuck here!” Weston shouts. “For fuck’s sake. All you need is to grab several. It’s not like I’m asking you to kill someone.”
“Yeah, because the last time you did, I slapped you,” I say with a scowl.
When I’m about to stomp toward him and stab him with one of the fancy alien knives, I hear a hissing sound and the groan of the door opening behind me.
Twisting around, I raise my hands, expecting to see Darolus, but the hissing lowers and the door stops before I can see who’s behind it.
“Sabrina, get back here! That’s not even the fucking way out.”
With little light coming from either Mickie’s or Weston’s flashlights, staring back at me is a yawning darkness behind a partially opened door. Hearing the sound of a low hiss on the other side, I take a step back. “Darolus?”
“Who’s Darolus?” Mickie asks, using his own knife to rip open the plastic covering some of the crates.
I take another step back as the door creaks open a little wider, putting my hand on my knife and pulling it out of my belt. The wet blade slips in my hand. “Darolus?” I say again a little louder.
“Sabrina? What’s going on?” Weston walks up to me and the hissing from beyond abruptly stops.