“Looks like the coast’s clear!” He snapped his goggles on. “OK, one more time… When you hear the rattle, start pumping. The second time you hear it go off, you stop. Are we good?”
Madison nodded, took her position on the seat and placed her foot on the oxygen pump.
“See you in a bit.”
Flynn attached his mesh sack to his belt and without looking back at Madison, he dived in. Kicking his feet, he made a few wide breast strokes which propelled him deeper down in the water. Then, he placed his arms beside his torso and let himself sink. His body went rigid and straight as an arrow, something Flynn would do on purpose to conserve energy and air as long as possible. Now he was sinking, using his own weight.
The sun beams penetrated the turquoise water around him, the colors gradually becoming a darker shade of blue as he kept going deeper and deeper. A school of silver bellied fish shot past his head, but he paid them no attention. Flynn was following the length of the rope and the hose attached to the diving bell. The bell would be his first destination. Without stopping, he pinched his nose and blew against his closed lips to equalize the pressure building up in his body. The water was dark blue now, and he could see the diving bell, only a few feet away. In just under three minutes, Flynn had successfully completed the first phase of his dive to the ocean bed. The bell was his little safe haven. He dove under it, and his head popped up in the bell’s air bubble.
Flynn took a deep breath. The air was good enough to replenish his oxygen intake. He anchored his feet to the small platform, attached to the bottom of the bell, and rummaged inside his satchel. He found the flashlight, tightly sealed and secured with duct tape, felt for the switch under the plastic wrap and pressed it. A beam of bright light illuminated the bell, making its dome glow like a lantern in the murkiness of the water outside. Flynn fastened the flashlight to the strap of his goggles, took a few short breaths and swam out of the bell. This was the second phase of his dive, and soon, the beam of his light was bouncing off the submerged buildings of the city below.
It was always an eerie sight, serene and hauntingly beautiful. Flynn swam down towards a mass of twisted metal, crusted with barnacles, covering the length of what was once a suburban Queens’ street. There were cars, trucks and buses, piled on top of each other, having found and settled into their final resting place after the Flood. Flynn dove under the tangled power cables, still hanging from tilted electricity poles, and made his way through the rusty cab of a large overturned truck. He spotted the human remains, lying in a heap on the driver’s seat. The bones were polished clean by the fish and crabs. Flynn knew that skeletons were everywhere when he went on such deep dives… especially in the old residential areas. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought. The ocean bed around the Archipelago was one big cemetery… Flynn inspected quickly the remains for anything worth scavenging… Sometimes, he would find a watch or a piece of jewelry, a golden tooth crown, a pair of shoes or an item of clothing that could still be worn… the kind of stuff he could easily trade on the Black Market… This time, he found nothing of value in the cab and swam on toward his final destination.
As expected, and without much trouble, his flashlight located the pharmacy’s sign from the day before. Flynn dived through a gap in the wall and swam straight for the row of silt covered cabinets at the back of the shop. His hand wiped the black slime away, revealing the cabinets’ glass doors. Behind them were shelves stacked with vacuum-packed medicine. Flynn pulled at one of the doors, but it was sealed shut by the thick crust of a dozen giant clams. Not wasting any time, he rotated his arms, backed up and kicked the glass with his heel. The glass cracked and caved in a little. He gave it another kick and it imploded. Water rushed in, sweeping the packages into a frothy whirlpool. Avoiding the sharp pieces of glass, Flynn grabbed at the floating packs, and began to stuff them in his sack. He had practiced these moves many times. As always, Flynn was fast and efficient.
Halfway through his scavenging run, Flynn stopped, turned and swam away. He had been holding his breath for about three and a half minutes, and he knew it was time to head back to the diving bell for some more air. A few moments later, he was inside the bell’s dome and immediately noticed that the air in the capsule had become stuffy… It needed more oxygen… Flynn reached up and pulled on the piece of rope, hanging above his head. Up on the raft, the rattle would tell Madison that she needed to pump him some more fresh air. They had practiced the drill a hundred times that day, so Flynn had no reason to worry. He headed straight down to the pharmacy again, without giving the oxygen pump a second thought.
Back at the cabinets, he gathered the remaining floating packs, took one last look around, and his eyes fell on an overturned vending machine. It was lying on the floor, half-buried in sea shells and kelp weeds. With its backside cracked open, there were a few soda cans that had spilled out, and Flynn collected them quickly in his sack. He then reached inside the vending machine, hoping to find some more of its valuable stash. As his hand closed over a can, Flynn suddenly felt an electrical current run through his whole body. His hand shot back out of the crack, followed by a huge eel. Its jaws snapped shut, inches from Flynn’s fingers. Instantly, the eel coiled back into the vending machine, its mouth wide open, waiting to strike again. For a split second Flynn thought about killing the eel and taking it home for dinner, but then decided to let the creature live… It would have been too risky! He was now dangerously close to running out of oxygen again. It was time for Flynn to turn around and swim back to the bell.
Once inside, Flynn realized that the air had become much worse than before. “What’s she doing up there!” he shouted, grabbing for the rope. He gave it a sharp tug, then rested his feet on the bell’s platform and waited… A few moments passed. Nothing! No fresh air was coming down the hose. “C’mon Madison!” Flynn’s voice sounded hollow inside the little dome as he looked up in frustration… He was beginning to feel dizzy. The air inside the bell was now heavy with carbon dioxide.
And then, the bell lurched violently, sending Flynn crashing into the wall behind him. If he had not grabbed hold of the hose, he would have slipped out of the bell and into the watery abyss below. What the hell was that? Flynn’s mind was now racing… Was it a seal… or a shark? Flynn shone his flashlight through the clear plastic wall into the darkness outside. He could see no farther than a few feet anyway… Seconds later, he felt another jolt, and then to Flynn’s surprise, the diving bell began to move. This was all wrong, he thought, trying desperately to keep his balance. Something was dragging the bell slowly to the right with Flynn still inside it, and with very little air left for him to survive such a ride.
Flynn knew he had to act fast. Taking one last quick breath, he dived out of the bell, and then following the hose, swam up as fast as he could. Soon he could see the rectangular outline of the Seeker above, but his raft was not alone… It was flanked by the silhouettes of two other vessels. Flynn wasn’t sure, but they looked like boats… He kicked his feet harder, and as he got closer to the surface, he saw that the boats had powerful propellers, churning away in the water… Suddenly, there was no longer any doubt in Flynn’s mind… the Seeker had two motor boats for company and they were Government boats!
Usually, like most experienced divers, Flynn would scream during the last few feet before surfacing from a deep dive, in order to get all the air out of his lungs. This time, he held his breath and came up behind his raft, making sure he was as silent as he could possibly be. He forced himself to suppress the urge to take a deep breath, taking a few shallow ones instead. Then he grabbed hold of one of the tires at the back of the Seeker and slowly hoisted himself up, his head peeking an inch above the platform. There was no sign of Madison! The raft was deserted… the oxygen pump pedals stood abandoned. Flynn pulled himself up a little higher and saw the motor boats in front of him. The bigger of the two was the Fury. She was leisurely tugging the Seeker in her wake, and at her helm stood the familiar figure of Leo Van Zandt.