“Anything worthwhile in the truck?” Moesha asked, still treading water.
“Some meds and parts. Roy got the best stuff.”
The barrel chested black man was already aboard. He held a massive tool over his head and smiled. “The Jaws of Life!” He flipped a switch and the combo tool started right up. It looked brand new. “Air pockets in the upper cabinets. Everything was dry.”
Moesha pushed off. “I’ve got air left. I’ll go back down.” She wasn’t one to leave a cache for someone else.
“No!” Hunter said it too quick.
“I want to get paid off that truck. We should go back down.” Moesha looked at Tesso.
An oversized air bubble rose and popped on the port side of the boat. Simon stared at it. “Somebody left a door open. Things are shifting.”
Tesso logged what they had pulled up on her clipboard. “We got enough. Get on board Moesha. Nobody is swimming home.”
A pair of cut flippers with green electrical tape flew over the side.
Tesso stopped in front of Hunter. “You know something?”
“No. I just want to get further south.”
“Everybody wants to get to South Street.” Simon parroted Moesha.
Back onto the boat she shook off the water and shot a middle finger at Simon. “He doesn’t care about South Street. He’s not in it for the money. He is some fucking Samaritan.”
Tesso ignored the wet tigress. “Where?”
Hunter felt her gaze. He looked at the other divers. No one was here for sentimental reasons. They all had families to feed or debts to pay. Everyone had lost something. At the same time, with the take from the firetruck they had already made money. The sun was high enough in the sky. There was still gas in the engine.
“Twenty Fourth Street.”
“Twenty Fourth and what?” Tesso didn’t budge.
“Naudain.” Hunter regretted it as soon as he gave it breath.
“Oh come on kid. That is a waste of air.” Roy said.
Tesso pulled her cap down and returned to the cabin. She put a foot up against the wheel and pulled out her charts, letting them drift while the divers hashed it out.
“What is so special about Twenty Fourth and Naudain?” Simon asked.
“Nothing. It isn’t South Street.” Moesha snapped.
Hunter looked at Simon and doubled down. “The feds cleared it early, but no one has picked it over yet, not once since the flood.”
“You think there is something worth finding there?” Simon asked.
“It doesn’t matter. The river blew it out. You’ve seen the maps. Those streets got power washed. There isn’t going to be anything worth looking for.” Moesha settled.
“I don’t think so. When the Atlantic charged up the rivers and the water turned back into the city some of the streets were sluiceways, but not all. Sure Penrose, Passyunk, Oregon got punched in the mouth, but they run east west.”
“So?”
“Twenty Fourth Street runs north south. We’ve all seen it. Some streets are underwater, but barely have any damage at all. The water came up slower, calmer in a few places. I think it is worth a look.”
“There was nothing there worth saving before the rise.” Moesha said.
Hunter swallowed the sting. “Maybe not in the stores, but there were wealthy people living in the apartments. They must have had silver, brass, maybe some jewelry?”
“I’m not dry-walking. Anything above the high water line is still stealing.” Roy piped up.
Another burp of large bubbles popped next to the boat.
Roy was right. They couldn’t ransack dry floors, but Hunter didn’t need anything above the second story. Dot and Sherman’s colonial had fully flooded. Only the attic and roof deck remained dry in the surge. Last week’s flyover pictures gave Hunter hope.
“Tesso swiveled back on her chair and called from the cabin. “How much did you get so far?”
Hunter rifled through his dry bag. “Eight prescription bottles, an Epi-Pen, two IV bags, a couple of faucets, some copper pipe. Enough.”
She nodded at Roy. “And you got your toys?”
He nodded back.
She got out of her chair and walked the deck, scanning the rest of the divers. “Everybody is already getting paid today.” The divers all nodded. She stopped in front of Hunter. “You know something about this block.”
“I do.”
“You want to go so bad. Give it up.”
Hunter swallowed. “That section of Naudian is a pretty rich block. I used to help people out in that neighborhood, handyman type stuff. Seemed like any other block, but everyone was a little richer; nice watches, jewelry, collectables. Everyone paid in cash. I know at least one guy kept his valuables in a floor safe, the watertight kind.” Enough was true that he kept the whole boat’s attention.
“How would you know about the safe?” Simon asked.
“I put it in, between the floor joists.”
“When you were fifteen?”
“Twelve. My Dad was the one they hired. He could build just about anything. I tagged along and helped out.”
“A floor safe sounds promising.” Moesha pulled a map up on the dive tablet.
“Might be enough for one, but I got a boat full of divers. What else is there Hunter?” Tesso wasn’t convinced.
“There are two banks on the block.”
“ATMs are a waste of time. Too much work to salvage and the parts are worth less than the cash inside.” Roy said.
Hunter had played his last card. If his story wasn’t enough they would surely skip the block today, maybe all together.
“Pawn shop!” Moesha called out. “Sign said ‘Diamond Broker’ too.” The owners had an apartment on the block. They weren’t going anywhere.”
Roy smiled. “Hard goods. I can get behind that.”
Simon leaned across Moesha to Hunter. “I thought you said this was a rich block?”
Moesha slapped Simon on the cheek playfully. “Some people are rich in ways you just wouldn’t understand.”
Tesso turned back to the cabin. “Sounds like we have a winner. We only have an hour to dive. Everybody in?” She started the engine back up, not bothering to wait for an answer. The flat boat cut a hard turn sending a foamy wake in all directions.
Hunter lost his balance and reached for the rail. He missed and grabbed Moesha’s arm instead.
“Don’t go getting fresh. You got your dive.”
Hunter’s eyes widened. He slid back to his place.
Moesha’s face softened, flashing a stark white smile against her coffee face. “Tell me about that safe.”
“Second floor, under a four poster bed.”
“Am I gonna find your baby pictures in it?”
Hunter looked at her in disbelief.
She turned the tablet so he could see it. A search page for the phone book was open next to the map. “Ceppelli right?”
There was no denying it. His name was printed in black on his dry bag and the leg of his wetsuit.
“This is your parent’s house?”
“Grandparents. Don’t tell.”
“There ain’t nothing to tell. I’m not looking for heirlooms. I’m in this for the good stuff.” Her finger was on the corner building with Mr. Hiltor’s pawn shop. “Diamonds right?”
Hunter nodded.
“Perpendicular current.” Simon yelled over the motor. “Top water is running eight miles an hour west to east. There might be an undertow. This is real close to the confluence between the Schuykill and the Atlantic.”
“So this is a waste of time. Nothing should be standing.” Roy said.
“The roofs are still there. It could be a lagoon. Maybe the currents balanced each other out.” Hunter had been thinking about this for days.
Simon shook his head. “Wishful thinking. If the pressure somehow balanced, I’d bet as soon as somebody pops a window the whole place comes down. There is no way this section is stable.”