The crank’s groans stopped when we reached depth, and I studied the black abyss sprawled out beneath us. There was light at our depth, but only just. The Caravites had given us flashlights and brushes to scrub the plates, and that was it. I could’ve used a goody bag, with maybe some pretzels as a snack.
I switched on my light, and it shined beyond the cage, bouncing off the plates’ shimmering metal and reflecting back at me. Mila nodded, and I pushed the cage’s gate open and kicked hard. Salt water seeped into my eyes through the corners of my goggles. I gestured for Mila to join me outside the cage, but she just shook her head, pointing behind me.
A megalodon floated next to the plate, having swum up when my back was turned. Its beady eyes ogled the plate and the glow that shined off it as a result of my flashlight. The monster didn’t appear to notice me; it seemed transfixed by the allure of the mysterious sheet of metal. I kept my hand still, and my flashlight poised in the plate’s direction, but my body sank in the water as I fought to maintain buoyancy. The light flicked away for a split second, and the megalodon gnashed its massive teeth, its beady black eyes still greedily gulping in the light. It apparently hadn’t noticed the flicker.
My lungs demanded oxygen, so I breathed deeply and rose in the water. The light began to move from the plate yet again. The megalodon’s black eyes turned to the light source and me as I rose. I froze, reminding myself not to move—movement meant certain death.
I floated higher in the water, bending only my wrist to keep the light focused on the plates. I rose higher, then let out a breath to sink farther down. The regulator bubbled as pockets of air shot out from the sides. The megalodon swam forward, away from the plates, and toward the bubbles that now floated upward, its eyes still focused on the light.
Clanking metal echoed in the water, drawing the megalodon’s attention. Mila had crawled out of the cage, pulled off her oxygen tank, and banged it against the metal bars. She pushed herself from the cage, leaving her oxygen tank bubbling on its metal bars. The monster raced toward the source of the sound and bubbles, its jaws wide. It chomped down on the cage, which collapsed beneath its bite’s crushing force. The air tank slipped loose and plummeted into the abyss below, and the megalodon hurried after it. For all its strength, it lacked intelligence. Evolution had offered it pure bloodlust instead.
With the megalodon gone, Mila reached for my regulator. I passed her the mouthpiece, and she sucked in breath after breath. We hovered there in the water, hands wrapped around one other, when I felt the brush strapped around her waist.
Brush. Polish. We were running out of time—we had to polish. The megalodon wasn’t the only monster that hung like death in the water: the Caravites and Captain Vern were floating overhead.
We rested our hands on the rusty plate next to us. It was three feet in diameter—a perfect circle—and there were two others nearby. We needed them all polished by the end of the hour.
The groan of the crank buzzed in the water as the shattered cage was lifted to the surface. The Caravites and the Lost Boys would soon learn we’d been attacked.
Mila and I took turns passing the regulator and the brush back and forth. While one breathed, the other scrubbed. Soon the rust was gone, and the plate sparkled even brighter in the beam of our flashlights, nearly as mesmerizing to us as it was to the megalodon.
We moved on to the next plate, scrubbing furiously to rid it of the caked-on rust. Before long, it, too, shined under the glint of our flashlights. By now, water had crept in through the corners of my wetsuit and the wrinkles of my goggles, and my teeth were chattering. Luckily, the last plate’s rust came off quicker than the rest.
I pointed to the surface above: it was time to go. The plates were clean, and we were almost out of time.
But before we could rise, a shadow sprang up from the abyss. The megalodon. Having been fooled by the oxygen tank—perhaps having eaten it by now, for all I knew—the livid monster was now in search of heartier prey. Its beady black eyes wandered again to the shining plate. Freed from its coat of rust, this plate was now far brighter than the last one the beast had seen. The monster put the glowing plate tentatively between two massive teeth and bit down.
My hand trembled, and I struggled to keep the light’s beam still. I’d seen more megalodons in my lifetime than most, but their broad faces still terrified me. Mila cautiously stretched a hand toward the regulator; she was out of oxygen. Unfortunately I’d wrapped its cord around the wrist of the hand that was holding the flashlight. Freeing the regulator would mean moving the light—and that meant certain death.
But she needed air, and she needed it fast. She pointed to her throat, and looked toward the surface. I shook my head—it was too far, too great a risk. The megalodon would see her move through the water, and she’d be dead in less than a minute. And if Mila died, there’d be blood in the water, and the rest of us—including, perhaps, those up above—were dead too.
I wondered what Charlie would do in this situation. The kind of girl who looked at a snail and saw a soul.
Mila looked up again, stretched her arms high in the water, and crawled toward the surface with her legs trailing limply behind—she was afraid to kick and move the water, I figured. Afraid of death. A trail of her own bubbles followed her to the surface.
I held my hand steady—I couldn’t move the light. It had to be still; I was too close to the megalodon. And I couldn’t breath, either; it would hear my bubbles. Above me, Mila blurred from my view, and I imagined her face breaking the surface, her arms beating against the waves as she swam toward the boat.
Well, one survived, Vern would say to Phoenix. Then he would turn to Mila. I should hope no spots were missed—for your sake.
The megalodon still hovered near the plate, chewing its edge, strangely mesmerized by its brilliance. My chest felt tight: I had to exhale. I let out a quick, short spurt, and bubbles trickled from the regulator’s corners.
The megalodon’s snout jerked up toward me. I flicked my wrist, and hit its beady eyes with the light. It gnashed its teeth in response and raced toward the surface, following the bubbles, the force of its flicking tail swirling the water around me.
Suddenly the polished plate glowed red, then rocketed upward, slamming into the monster’s stomach, burning its skin while lifting it right out of the water. I kicked hard to the surface, screaming, as bubbles shot from my lungs like bullets. The megalodon flailed at the surface above me, the plate continuing to burn its stomach.
My head broke the surface just in time for me to see a burst of light smash into the monster’s snout. Its suddenly limp body rolled off the plate and floated, motionless. I glanced up and saw Bertha standing at the ship’s edge cradling the Paralyzer. Mila was in the water beneath her, swimming toward safety.
Fog triggered by the plate’s launch gathered as I swam after Mila, grabbed a ladder and climbed aboard. Kindred greeted me with a towel. Mila was huddled on the deck, shaking, her hand wrapped in a white bandage. I found out later that she’d cut it along the edge of her suit. It was her blood, not the flick of my wrist and my bubbles, that had drawn the megalodon to the surface.
Kindred rubbed the length of my arms. “You’re shaking, dear.”