The Steel Shark

Chapter 30

Joe’s heart started hammering as soon as he saw the sub. Edison knew it and brushed his nose against the back of his hand. Together, the dog seemed to say, we can do this together.

Joe dropped his duffel inside the cockpit. Alan didn’t try to catch or help, but he was doing plenty already. He wondered why Alan had agreed to take them out to the ship. Alan always had an angle, and Joe couldn’t see it. That bothered him.

He climbed into the cockpit with Edison. Vivian came in right after. She’d been close since they left the house. She’d known he would try to ditch her, but the time for that was past, and he was grateful to have her along. She always had his back.

Once they were settled, Alan closed the cockpit, and down they went.

The water went from green to black almost immediately. Blue navigation lights showed the way forward. Before the accident, he’d loved this moment, but now it filled him with dread. He practiced his breathing techniques. He’d made a lot of progress in his virtual therapy sessions, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

Edison licked his fingers, and he ruffled the dog’s ears. Vivian sat quietly behind him, and it sounded like she was doing breathing exercises of her own. He felt guilty for asking her to go down with Alan so soon after the accident. He hadn’t realized how difficult it must have been until this moment. He was a self-absorbed jerk.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Vivian leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder, making him feel guiltier. But at least the guilt distracted him.

“Keep your shit together,” Alan muttered. “No panicking on my boat.”

“You’re a font of empathy,” Vivian said.

Alan snorted. “Not my job, being Mr. Feelgood.”

Joe had taken a Xanax before he left the house, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything. He ought to write the drug manufacturer and demand his money back. To whom it may concern: Despite taking your medication, I still felt anxious taking a submarine soon after I was almost killed in one. He chuckled at the thought of that letter being read, and Edison wagged his tail. That meant he was doing better.

Alan pushed the submarine hard, making much better time than Joe ever did. He clearly wasn’t interested in a scenic tour.

“How are you doing in the contest?” Joe asked.

“First,” Alan said. “Since the guys ahead of me died and dropped out like pussies.”

“Wow,” said Vivian. “Just. Wow.”

They pressed on in awkward silence.

Too soon for his liking, Alan slowed down. “Almost there. Should I surface?”

“Yes. Please,” Joe said.

The sub tilted up sharply. Joe’s heart hammered against his ribs, and he started to sweat like he’d just finished a marathon. Edison licked his fingers and nuzzled his leg.

“Vivian, your job is to get Edison on board.” His voice cracked halfway through, but he kept going. “Safely.”

“Got it.”

They broke the surface. Rain pelted the cockpit, and black waves roiled around them. Alan swore.

Joe looked at his hands twisting in his lap. How had he thought he could do this?

Alan pressed the cockpit-release button, and the protective bubble started to lift. The smell of salt air flooded the cockpit. The first real outside air Joe had breathed in a long time, and he wished he could savor it, but instead, he shivered and tried not to lose control of his bowels. His hands clamped tightly to the sides of his seat.

A rope splashed on the sub’s skids. Alan grabbed it and started pulling them closer to a dark shape that rose out of the black water. Water droplets stung Joe’s face. He didn’t know if they were rain or seawater, and he didn’t care.

He closed his eyes. If he ignored the pitching underneath him, the smell of the sea, and the water lashing his face, he could pretend he was home, sitting in his shower with a plate of fish. That image was so ridiculous he almost laughed, and the terror receded.

Edison huddled against him. The dog’s warm form, his tongue on Joe’s cheek, even the smell of wet dog — all helped to drive away the fear. Edison was there. He heard the clank of a safety harness unfastening, and Edison moved from his side.

“Come on, Edison,” Vivian said. “You’re with me.”

The dog growled.

“Go with her,” Joe whispered. “Good boy.”

Edison whined like he wasn’t sure. His place was with Joe. Always.

“Go. I’m right behind you.” Joe ordered, and the warmth of the dog against his leg disappeared. He counted, numbers blooming behind his eyes. He shivered, and his teeth chattered. Fear swamped him.

A warm hand touched his shoulder. Vivian. She’d come back for him. “Edison’s aboard. It’s just a little jump onto the swim platform and then up onto the back deck. There’s an enclosed tent there.”

“A hop, skip, and a jump,” Joe said. Farnsworth, the vet from the circus, always said that.

“I have a syringe,” Vivian said quietly, probably hoping Alan wouldn’t hear. He’d be an ass about it if he did.

“Not yet,” Joe answered. “Not yet.”

He focused on his right hand, willing each finger to uncurl. She stood next to him, her breath warm on his neck, her hand squeezing his shoulder.

“Take your time,” she said. “I’m paid by the hour.”

“I don’t have all night.” Alan’s abrasive voice cut through the rain and the wind and the fear.

Anger flared in Joe’s chest. Without opening his eyes, he stood. He was standing outside, for the first time in months.

“Just a step here.” Vivian guided him forward.

The sub pitched up and down, and he wondered if he would fall and be crushed between the sub and the boat he knew waited next to it in the darkness. That thought wasn’t so frightening. At least then he wouldn’t be so damn scared.

Vivian lifted his hand and placed it against cold metal. Rough rope scraped his palm. He grabbed with both hands.

“One big step!” She yelled through the sound of the rain. “Hurry! Don’t leave me trapped back here with this asshole.”

He made a mental note to laugh about that later, but for now he focused only on the platform with his feet and pulling himself aboard. Nearby, Edison barked. Not far to go.

A wave drenched his legs, rain pounded his face, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting back inside.

Hands grabbed him and dumped him facedown in a pile of rope. It smelled like tar. Edison licked his ears, his neck, his cold hands.

He’d done it.