“My dog’s picked up the scent of something inside. I’m really keen to find out what it is.”
Scott looked at him with skepticism painted across his face. “You want to go see what’s got your dog in a terrified frenzy?”
Sam said, “I do.”
Scott grinned as though the idea amused him. “Trapped inside the sealed, flooded, hull.”
“Yeah…”
“Are you a decent swimmer?”
“I can swim,” Sam said.
“I’ve got a snorkel and face mask in my truck on the beach, if you want to try swimming through. It’s probably only about twenty feet. You wouldn’t catch me doing it, but I don’t see why you shouldn’t try.”
Sam said, “Thanks. That will save me going off to find one.”
A few minutes later Scott returned with the snorkel and mask.
“Thanks,” Sam said.
“You’re welcome. Better you than me.” Scott gave him a good hard look. “Have you ever been inside a flooded shipwreck before? It can be pretty dark and dangerous.”
Sam nodded. “Once or twice. I’ll be okay,” he said with a grin.
“All right. Good luck and stay safe, because I sure as heck won’t be coming in after you if you get into trouble.”
“I’ll be all right.” Sam squatted down and patted Caliburn. “Good boy. I need you to tell me something.”
The dog went quiet and sat down on its hind legs. The dog looked straight up at him, patiently waiting to find out what Sam wanted to ask.
Sam grinned. “I swear you understand every word I say, don’t you, Caliburn?”
The dog tilted its head and mewled.
Sam’s voice became hard and serious. “I need to know is there anything or anyone alive in there?”
Caliburn made a slight whimper at the reference to inside the aft deck, and turned his eyes away.
“Does that mean something is alive in there?”
The dog didn’t make a sound. For a moment, Sam wondered if he’d been imagining all along that Caliburn was more intelligent than he really was. Maybe Caliburn didn’t comprehend anything that he was saying. Perhaps most of it was just a natural response to his tone. Like a learned behavior of a typical animal, expecting to be rewarded with food.
But Sam didn’t think so.
“Caliburn,” Sam persisted, meeting his gaze directly. “I’m going to go in there, you know that?”
The dog whimpered.
“Am I going to find something alive in there?”
The dog didn’t make a sound.
Sam sighed. They weren’t getting very far. Some sort of failure in translation more than lack of intelligence. “All right. Tell me this. The thing that was chasing us back in the Tillamook forest, that’s where I met you by the way, it was evil, wasn’t it?”
Caliburn gave an immediate, crisp, bark.
“Okay. That thing in the forest. Whatever evil thing it was. It was on this ship, wasn’t it?”
Caliburn barked again. There was no mistaking the response. It was an immediate, and emphatic response.
Yes. The evil thing was here.
“Right…” Sam grinned. “You do understand me, don’t you?”
The dog’s mouth opened and it started to pant. Its tail wagged briskly.
Sam expelled a deep breath.
Guinevere’s lips parted into a smile. It was nice to look at. Open, full of teeth, and suggestive of some sort of hidden wonder, a playful mischievousness unable to be bridled. Whether she believed Sam and Caliburn had a connection or not was not in debate. Instead, she was just enjoying watching the two try to communicate.
“All right,” Sam said, “One last thing. Is it still here?”
Caliburn turned his head.
The answer was much less resounding. It might be. Then again, it might not be.
Sam stood up. To Scott Meyers he said, “Has someone secured and watched this ship the entire time since it became beached?”
“Ever since we were notified of its discovery.”
“When was that?”
“Four days ago.”
“Okay, and in that time, no one or nothing could have boarded the ship without you or one of the Officers noticing?”
Scott said, “No way.”
“Thanks.” Sam turned to Guinevere. “That’s good enough for me. We know whatever evil once lived here has since been to the Tillamook State Forest. It might, conceivably have gotten back in since last night, but given that the place has been under the watchful eyes of Fish and Wildlife Services, I think it’s safe to say that the living quarters inside the ship are no longer inhabited by that evil thing…”
Guinevere thought about it for a moment. “The logic’s sound. I’m still glad it’s you and not me trying to reach it. I’ll wait here with Caliburn.”
“Thanks.”
Sam opened the hatchway amidships.
It looked like someone had scraped off any barnacles as they had formed and the hinges had been maintained with regular oiling. Meaning, there was no doubt in Sam’s mind that something was using the hatchway regularly throughout the Hoshi Maru’s trans-Pacific voyage.
He slid the facemask into position and took several deep breaths. A moment later, he placed the snorkel in his mouth, and with his flashlight in his right hand, he dipped beneath the deck, into pitch dark waters below.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sam dived downward, using his feet to slowly propel himself through the flooded compartment. It was relatively narrow which was good. It was a passageway running fore and aft, as a means of checking on the various live fish holding compartments, fresh water storage compartments, and whatever other type holds the Hoshi Maru used. It meant it was wide enough to swim, but narrow enough to avoid any likelihood of becoming lost and entrapped.
The beam flashed through the still waters of the flooded shipwreck. The light struck the tiny stilled particles, turning them to gold.
Sam could hear the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. The beats slowed as he dived and the natural mammalian dive reflex kicked in. The ancient evolutionary response allowed physiological changes after immersion in water that override basic homeostatic reflexes. This optimizes respiration by distributing oxygen stores to the heart and brain, enabling extended submersion times.
Above, he passed the first hatchway.
He fixed his flashlight beam up at it, but kept moving. Based on his estimate, he needed to travel another ten or more feet before reaching the raised chamber. It wasn’t a long swim. But he took it slowly, and cautiously. The passageway was filled with fishing lines. If he got caught up in any one of them, he would be hard pressed to cut them away before he ran out of air. His other concern was the fact that he might have to double his submersion time if the hatch on the opposite side ended up being locked or rusted in place.
Up ahead he spotted what he was looking for.
A single ladder rising from an even lower deck, all the way up to what he hoped would be the upper deck house. There was some light rising in the vertical shaft, good confirmation that he was on the right track.
Better still was the distinct lack of silt and marine life on the upper rungs of the ladder, while there were plenty in the lower section.
There was only one explanation — someone had used the ladder regularly to guide themselves through the murky waters.
Sam gripped the rung closest to him, and pulled himself through the water. He kicked hard in the water, picked up speed as he made his ascent, and emerged into a dry area.
He climbed the rest of the ladder until he was completely out of the water, standing on the dry deck spacing of the mysterious aft living quarters.
Sam swept the room with his flashlight. The beam flickered on the various walls and floors, and ceilings. There were three bunkbeds. All were made up, but one had the distinct appearance of having been regularly slept in over the past seven years.