The Steel Shark

Chapter 4

Time slowed to a crawl as it used to when Vivian was in combat. Her mind flipped through possibilities, trying to find one that would save everyone. She could do an emergency surface with the sub, but she’d have to leave Tesla. That was a no go. Someone in that giant submarine had murdered the pilot of the tiny sub, and maybe they were gunning for Tesla next. Not that she could do a damn thing from her little bubble. Her sub didn’t have defensive weaponry. A rich man’s toy. The most she could do would be tap on its hull with one tiny explorer arm.

Several yards out, Tesla was swimming hard, hauling along the dog. He’d never reach her before the sub rammed her. Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. He’d never get inside in time.

Get her craft out of immediate danger. If worse came to worst, he and the dog could surface and get picked up by a passing ship.

But they wouldn’t. Tesla couldn’t go outside, and the surface of the ocean definitely counted as outside. Conscious, he’d never be able to reach the top of the water, and Edison would stay next to him until they both ran out of air and drowned. His fear of going outdoors was why she always carried a hypodermic needle in her shirt pocket, ready to knock him unconscious in case of emergency. Like this one. Fat lot of good it would do.

The black sub advanced. It couldn’t stop any more easily than she could, and it’d run her over if she didn’t move. But her damn sub handled like a horse mired in mud. She’d never be able to dodge.

Surface. She’d get away, come back for Joe and Edison. She pulled up on the stick, expecting the sub to shoot up like a champagne cork. Instead, the little yellow sub crawled upward like a snail. It wouldn’t get clear in time.

She turned the engine to full and steered at a right angle away from the oncoming danger. Her sub started the beginning of a slow arc.

It’d be close.

Abandon the sub. Put on the emergency suit and surface. But then she remembered Tesla had gone outside through the outer hatch door. The outer hatch was open, the airlock flooded. She couldn’t open the inner door until she pumped it out, and she didn’t have time. She might open the bubble, but that took time, too.

Whatever happened to her, it was going to happen inside.

Her sub inched to the side, every millisecond bringing her closer to safety.

But she ran out of time.

The black sub crashed against her side. The little yellow sub tumbled in front of it. Green water and brown mud flashed across the cockpit bubble.

She fought to control the crash, but the stick kicked sideways in her hands. A sickening snap. Bone-deep pain. Broken wrist.

A grinding screech and her sub finally lay still at the bottom of the sea.

A navigation light had been knocked around, and its beam spotlighted an immobile black wall. The giant sub had ground to a stop, too.

She was pinned. The safety harness cut into her shoulders, and her hips and arm ached. The harsh smell of melted plastic stung her nose. She coughed. Something was on fire.

A jagged silver line raced across the bubble like a lightning bolt. Water seeped through the crack and trickled down to the floor. Another crack. Then another.

She stabbed the quick release for her safety harness and stood. The sub creaked and shuddered. Pain shot from her arm when she moved, and blood dripped to the floor from a cut on her temple, but that didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was getting out of the submarine.

Alive.