Ocean Blue (Sea Lab Book 1)

CHAPTER 9

Sarah stretched her arms toward the dying light, her legs extended forward, floating in zero gravity. A strange numbness traveled the length of her body and stopped at the base of her neck. Deprived blood vessels in her brain tingled from lack of oxygen. Diagnosis: cerebral hypoxia. This realization seemed distant and covered in blackness, as if shades covered her eyes. Sarah resisted the impulse to gasp for air, assisted by a strange hand blocking water from entering her mouth. But she possessed no power to stop her mind from shutting down like lights in a house, cutting off one room at a time.

The hand moved and a wave of energy rushed through her body, her lungs inhaling to capacity, grasping a life giving force. As blood vessels worked to reverse the hypoxia, Sarah's thoughts switched on like reset circuit breakers. She realized her surroundings in seconds. Her teeth bit down on a breathing regulator, supplying the air she needed, and her vision returned, revealing the faintness of the setting sun. Moments later, the water turned dark as night settled over Nassau.

Whoever dragged Sarah into the depths spun her around. At first, she thought a sea creature had snatched her, but now she recognized the outline of a man. The dark confines of the sea concealed his identity, but a noticeable shape covered his face.

A dive mask.

The fog in her head cleared. He raised a hand to signal her, barely visible through the eye-burning salt water.

Sarah pulled the regulator out and gave it to him. After a quick inhalation, the man returned the mouthpiece to her. They stayed underwater for ten to fifteen minutes, taking turns breathing. The diver breathed for five to ten seconds compared to her twenty to thirty seconds. He seemed more concerned about restoring oxygen to her brain than he was about his own comfort.

He led her to the surface once it became clear the attackers had given up pursuit and fled the scene. They floated in silence, relieved to be alive, relishing the fresh air. Then Sarah's rescuer spoke, a familiar edge to his voice.

"Can you swim?"

"I think so."

He paused, scanning the water. The surface rose and sank, leaving them in a bowl before it swelled and lifted them to its apex. He pointed to the coast where the Paradise Island Resort lit up the horizon like a small city.

"Our boat is that way," he said. "It's the Saint Charles. It won't take long to reach it."

"Thanks for saving me." Sarah strained to make out the details of his face in the dark.

"Don't mention it."

Sarah winced at the sound of his voice. It couldn't be. She wanted to ask his name, but they needed to get to the boat. After a few minutes of arduous swimming, a light became visible, bobbing like a buoy. By the time they reached the vessel, she felt weak and thought she might sink if he let go of her waist.

The diver stopped their advance when the form of another man appeared inside the wheelhouse.

"I have a friend with me," he said. "I need to make sure he's the one on the boat."

Sarah couldn't take it any longer. Her mind pieced together the puzzle of his identity in the dark. She opened her mouth to ask his name.

"Quiet," he said. "Listen."

An individual leaned over the starboard side of the boat and swore as he scoured the black sea.