Danger In The Deep. Karen Kirst

her shoulder, reminding her to stay focused on the task at hand. While the myriad creatures in this tank were fed on a regular schedule and posed little threat, she had to keep her wits about her. Olivia signaled to Erin that she was descending to the deepest part of the tank. She was hoping to collect Atlantic spadefish eggs that she and her coworker Roman needed for their groundbreaking breeding program. If they could continue to successfully breed saltwater fish in the aquarium—an extremely challenging task—their need to catch wild populations would lessen. Other aquariums could utilize their findings and implement their own programs. The impact would be far-reaching and beneficial for all involved.

      Her downward journey through the crystal-clear water took her between towering, misshapen artificial reef formations. At forty feet, their tank was one of the deepest in the country. Because some of the spaces were tight, Erin had chosen not to accompany her. Erin was notoriously claustrophobic and preferred to remain in the open water closer to the surface and interact with the sea creatures there.

      Olivia reached the bottom and waved to the guests at the viewing window. A young girl decked out in neon pink caught her eye. The girl appeared to be transfixed by Olivia. She stood with her hands pressed to the glass, her eyes as big as quarters.

      Charmed, Olivia swam closer and initiated a game of rock, paper, scissors. At first the girl’s shyness got the better of her. Then, with her mother’s encouragement, she played along. A crowd gathered. Olivia was enjoying herself until she lifted her gaze and recognized the blond man standing apart from the rest.

      Why had he come early? The program didn’t begin until after normal business hours.

      Brady offered her a strained smile and half-hearted wave.

      An emotional whirlpool churned up familiar frustration. Would it kill him to at least act happy to see her?

      He’d checked on her three times in the eleven months since Derek’s aneurysm. The visits had been brief and underscored with tension. Brady was no actor. His true feelings weren’t hard to decipher. He didn’t want to see her. He’d come because he owed it to his best friend. When he wasn’t around, she convinced herself she didn’t care what he thought. But then she’d see him again, and old wounds festered.

      Lost in the past, she wasn’t prepared when her mouth regulator erupted and spewed out her scuba cylinder contents. A torrent of bubbles invaded her mouth and hindered her vision. A smothering sensation stole over her as hundreds of thousands of gallons pressed in on her. The surface, far overhead, wasn’t visible, and neither was her buddy, Erin.

       Concentrate, Olivia. What’s the solution?

      She struggled to remember her instructor’s advice. What had he said to do in this situation?

      Of course. Breathe out the side, letting most of the bubbles escape. Sucking in multiple uneven breaths, she checked the pressure gauge. Almost empty. No, that couldn’t be right. She’d made sure it was full during her predive check. It couldn’t have released that much gas in the span of a minute or two.

      She unhooked her small bailout bottle and put its accompanying regulator in her mouth. But nothing happened. She tapped the pressure gauge again and again. Why wasn’t it working?

      Dizziness overtook her.

      She didn’t have enough air to do a controlled ascent. Her time in the water wasn’t an issue, but this depth was a major problem. Excess nitrogen in her bloodstream and tissues could form into bubbles if she rushed to the surface. Decompression sickness wasn’t something she wanted to risk. Excruciating joint pain or skin rashes she could handle. But if those bubbles burst in her nervous system, she was facing paralysis or even death.

      Glancing above her, she saw only a twisted maze of dense rock. Her vision blurred, and her lungs felt like twin balloons about to burst.

      Olivia did what she’d been taught not to do.

      She panicked.

      Brady shouldered his way through the onlookers.

      “Mommy, what’s wrong with the lady?”

      “I’m sure she’ll be fine, sweetie.” The young mother took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go find a snack.”

      Brady took advantage of the vacated spot, which gave him a clearer view of this section of the tank. Unease built as Olivia swatted at the bubbles and shoved off the tank floor, heedless of her surroundings. When she almost rammed into the rock behind her, concerned murmurs rippled through the crowd around him.

      Her long black hair floated around her face, further hampering her vision. The bubbles continued to gush from her breathing device. She was in danger of running out of air if she didn’t act soon. And if she continued to panic, she could hit her head against the rock formations and lose consciousness.

      The intensity of the apprehension welling up inside surprised him. Every single critical thought he’d entertained about Olivia Smith evaporated as he watched her struggle. Whatever her motives for marrying Derek had been, she’d made him happy during the short time they were together.

      Brady went in search of an aquarium employee. He found a teenage boy at a drinks station.

      “There’s an emergency in the shark tank. A diver is in trouble.”

      The boy stared at him in confusion.

      “Do you have a comms system?” Brady demanded.

      “Sir?”

      Assuming his sternest stare, he grated out, “Take me to the tank entrance.”

      “But you’re not allowed—”

      “I’m a friend of Olivia Smith’s.” That was a stretch, but a necessary one. “She needs assistance. Now.”

      His Adam’s apple bobbing, he abandoned the queue of customers and jogged up the ramp. “This way.”

      As they dodged curious guests, Brady found himself praying for the woman he’d spent months mentally maligning. Olivia’s in trouble, Lord. Please help her. For Derek’s sake.

      They entered an employee-only stairwell and raced to the top level. Bursting into a room containing large plastic tubs stocked with tiny fish and glass jars hooked to tubes, the boy led him through a second door that opened onto a walkway surrounding the enormous tank.

      A short, curly-haired man standing at a dry-erase board printed with feeding schedules frowned at them.

      “Leon, why did you abandon your post?” He studied Brady. “This area is restricted, sir. You’ll have to return to the guest viewing area.”

      Brady bent over the railing and searched in vain for a glimpse of her. “Olivia’s down there with malfunctioning equipment. She’s running out of air.”

      Below the rippling surface, schools of fish swam in formation, oblivious to the disturbance at the bottom.

      The sky was Brady’s domain, not the water. But he’d brave the deep blue if it meant saving Derek’s widow. He headed to the dive dock. The other man was retrieving a wet suit, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. Didn’t he realize every second mattered?

      Spotting a second diver, Brady made a split-second decision. He shucked off his jacket and placed his cell in the folds. Then he jumped in and, ignoring the shouts of protest behind him, sliced through the water to her side. The other diver was near the surface, but on the far side of the tank. It seemed to take forever to reach her. Behind the mask, her eyes went wide.

      He grabbed her arm and gestured to the bottom. At first, she didn’t respond. Frustrated, Brady started to tow her along with him. Finally, she seemed to understand, because she wrestled free, gestured for him to return to the dock and then darted toward the reef formations.

      Straining for air, he returned to the surface and a flurry of activity.