Depths of Salvation (Love on the Edge) (2 page)

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Authors: Lee,Molly E.

Tags: #Depths of Salvation

The reward was beyond worth it. A million and one possibilities were thriving within the ecosystem that had set up shop in the
Falconer,
and their benefits—to not only
my
research but the island’s sustainability above me—were well worth my life.

I moved cautiously, and with a calculation I’d learned from my time spent within the patina walls of the ship. Another school of fish, these ones tiny and blue-striped, swam by me as I clicked on my flashlight and navigated through a curtain of seaweed that had overgrown a series of upended tables in what was once the ship’s cafeteria. The sea life around here—fish, anemones, coral, the occasional sting ray and sea turtle—used to bolt in every direction in a mad scramble when I’d first arrived on site, but they’d grown accustomed to me by now and seemed to tolerate my presence.

The acceptance was welcome and fueled the passion I had for this job. I’d never wanted to do anything else, and every day I woke up excited to go to work.

But that is all you ever do.

I propelled down a thin hallway lined with steel doors, some still closed from the last time the ship had breathed fresh air. The silence within the ship was near suffocating, especially if I thought about being trapped on the other side of one of those locked doors. We hadn’t moved to an exploration of those rooms yet, and it would no doubt be a difficult process. Not only because I’d have to bring in an outsider—we didn’t have a professional underwater welder on staff who could get all the locked rooms open—but because odds were more bodies would be trapped inside, how much left of them would be the gruesome discovery.

It was a hazard of preserving an ecosystem within a WWII cargo ship. Not all crew members had made it out. We’d discovered a dozen bodies in the cafeteria, weighted down by overturned tables or kitchen equipment. Most had been nearly consumed by the marine life, feasted on until there were only bits and strings of flesh clinging to the pure white bones.

A chill raced down my spine, and I swallowed hard. We’d retrieved what we could, and sent the remains to the local authorities in the United States where the ship’s birth had been in order to be tested for identification. I didn’t know if there would be anyone left desperately seeking closure, but it wasn’t my call to toss them aside and pretend they weren’t here . . . like some preservationists elected to do. I couldn’t separate the fact that they had once been living, thriving humans fighting for their country before they’d given the ultimate sacrifice. I wondered if they’d be proud that their lives were serving such a purpose in the world below the water that had claimed them.

Finally, I made it to the lowest level of the ship, and four doors down a small hallway, to the room that housed the seagrass. I halted just inside it, my eyes zeroing in on the slowly swaying strips of blue, the tint almost metallic and shimmering underneath the beams of my flashlight. I had to be careful about how much I extracted for testing—just as we had to with the purple algae. If we took too much or handled it abusively, then we could throw off the growth rate and possibly kill its progression completely.

I reached behind me and grabbed the plastic bags I’d brought to hold the samples, before retrieving the tweezer-like pinchers
I needed to gently remove a few strands from the floor.
I kept my hands steady, and my body as light as possible, so I wouldn’t brush up against any portion of the plants. I slowly moved my hand toward it . . .

“Boss.” Nemo’s voice sounded in my ear, and I jerked back as I felt the water roll around me from behind. I turned my head to investigate the source of the movement, desperately hoping it was a sea turtle or something else equally non-threatening.

“Nemo, what the hell?” My eyes landed on him and my heart raced, fueled by both shock and anger. “You’re never to come into the structure without a partner! You know the rules. You could’ve gotten lost or stuck, and I wouldn’t have known!” I took a deep breath to slow my pulse and checked my readings. We had fifteen minutes left before we needed to book it to the halfway mark between here and the surface.

“Sorry, I couldn’t reach you for some reason. Command needs us topside.”

I shook my head and swam toward him. “I don’t care what command wants, you never come in here alone again, do you understand? You have years of training before you can do this . . .” I stared down at the bright yellow retrieval rope that was attached to my belt and trailed out of the room. I couldn’t believe he’d managed to follow it without snagging his gear on any of the crowding structures within the ship. I’d had to bail out plenty of rookies before in areas less cluttered than this. The fact that Nemo was capable of making it here safely spoke volumes about where he’d go in this business. Not that I would tell him that.

“Understood, boss . . . Sadie.” His soft blue eyes gazed behind me, the wonder of the room sinking into them.

I grinned, unable to stay mad at the kid for too long. I glanced back at the plants behind me. “What did command say?” Typically they never radioed down unless it was an emergency. “Not more pirates?” The cold fist was around my heart again for an entirely new reason. Pirates had grown too interested in our ship a few weeks ago, but we were able to get ahead of them and make it back to the island before they made a connection.

“No. Liz said you were needed and that I was to make you understand the importance of the word
urgently.”

Damn. I sighed and nodded, wishing I’d been faster to get to the room and could leave it with
something
but rushing an extraction could damage the integrity of the plant.

I motioned for Nemo to tuck out backward, and we left empty handed.

The ship that operated as our base on the ocean’s surface above the
Falconer
was closer to a sports yacht than a vessel, but it had a cabin for each of my crew, where we could sleep comfortably for weeks if we chose to, and plenty of cargo space for all our gear. And, thankfully, it was the only ship in sight as we broke surface. Nemo had said it wasn’t pirates, but I couldn’t help the relief that uncoiled in my chest as I climbed on deck, noting its still-pristine condition and its lack of any foreign boats around it.

I carefully stored my gear and wrapped my long, wet hair in a topknot. Liz sat rigidly at her designated station in the pilothouse, her eyes sharpened on the controls without really looking at them. My gut turned over. Liz was normally the most easy-going of the crew, electing to play music over the loud speakers to break the tensions of a long day with a dance party. Seeing her so tense was enough to replace my sea-salted mouth with a sour tang.

“Liz?” I touched her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She blinked a couple of times and then straightened, her short blond hair brushing the tips of her cheeks. “Is Nemo on board?”

I nodded as she looked over my shoulder.

“Good.” She turned to Matthew, her first mate, and gave him a quick jerk of her head. He quickly punched in some coordinates and took the wheel. The ship slowly roared to life and turned toward the familiar direction of the island.

I scrunched my eyebrows. “We weren’t due back on land for another week. Did our supplies spoil?”

She shook her head. “We have bigger problems.”

I swallowed hard. “Explain.”

“You remember a few months back when the Head of Government
held a meeting with a bigwig gas corporation and us?” She bit her bottom lip, her eyes turning up in thought. “Slade Pipelines?”

“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t tell me—“

“I am.”

“You’re fucking joking!” I flung my arms in the air, pacing in front of her, unable to keep my anger in check. “They agreed. They said they could spare the mileage it would take to safely go around our site.”

“Something changed,” Liz said. “I just got the call. They’ve submitted new technical schematics to Henrick with the pipeline’s new route, and there is a big-ass line right through your
Falconer
.” Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Sadie. I’ve got no power to fight this.”

I took a deep breath and counted to five. “This isn’t your fault. Thank you for getting me to the surface so quickly.”

She flashed me a small smile. “I knew you’d want to get back to the island as fast as possible. I’m sure if you get in there and restate the importance of the site, Henrick will side with you. Force Slade to route the pipeline around the
Falconer
as originally planned.”

I could tell by the way she shifted her weight that she didn’t believe what she said, but it was sweet of her to try to give me a ray of hope in a situation so bleak. This was a matter of money. It
had
to be. It was always the villain when it came to preservationists battling a corporation that didn’t see the importance of a particular site.

Fuck.
If I had substantial proof of both the purple algae’s and the blue seagrass’s potential value, it could tip the long list of important and sustaining functionalities of my site. Without it, I knew it would be a battle to get the Head of Government to see anything over the dollar signs I’m sure were flashing before his eyes, thanks to Mr. Slade.

Well, he didn’t know who he was dealing with.

Once Liz got me on land, I’d be sure to show him.

Connell

“CONNELL! GET YOUR
ass up here, man!” Ryan shouted from the grated floor just above my tiny room in my current home—the Slade Pipeline vessel. “Bossman says it’s urgent.”

“Yeah,” I said, slowly tossing the thin sheet off my legs. Never failed, the second I got a moment to sleep, someone would fuck up and I’d have to rush off to fix it. I didn’t bother slipping on a shirt, instinct telling me I’d have to suit up anyway.

It didn’t
really
bother me. It’s why I was here. I fucking loved my job. There was a freedom in underwater welding that I couldn’t get anywhere else in my life. Something about being under the water with nothing but me and a hunk of steel, a blast of sea life, and the power of the tools in my hands. I claimed I chose gigs off the highest bidder, but that was a bold-faced lie. I went wherever the danger was greatest, the risk highest.

I needed an everyday reminder that I was still alive when my brother wasn’t.

“Today, Murphey,” Slade’s gruff voice urged me from his office on the top level of the vessel, and I slowed my pace. The guy was a stick-up-his-ass asshole, and I could tell from his tone no one’s life was in danger. This was just a job that needed to be done quickly, and who better to ask than the dog he hired to work like one.

Ryan practically bounced on the balls of his feet as I walked into Slade’s office. The kid was only a few years younger than me, but he was the highlight of this gig. Funny as hell, and a decent worker under the water but even better topside. He manned the controls for me while I was under—maintaining my gas levels and fueling me with the proper amperage when I directed him.

And he didn’t push for information, which I valued highly on the list of zero friends I had. Traveling as much as I did for work didn’t exactly give me the chance to bromance it up with anyone, not that I’d ever attempted. After Conner . . . well, I liked to keep the fuck to myself and appreciated anyone who let me do so.

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