Looking down at my GoPro, I’m immensely relieved that it looks like it’s held up quite well.At least that’s a win!It might sound stupid to get sentimental over an easily replaced piece of technology, but my GoPro was my first real investment in this hobby of mine, and I would have been devastated if it had broken before I’d even had a chance to really use it. Brushing myself off, I scan where I’ve landed.
There’s a ladder near the side of the pool, maybe forty feet from the bottom of the tank, so it’s way too far out of reach. Useful when the pool’s full of water? Sure. Any good to me while I’m stuck at the bottom of this drained monstrosity? Not at all. There’s also a glass viewing area, the kind that lets visitors watch what the animals are doing underwater. Still not sure how anyone could get away with having this on their property, no matter how rich and eccentric they were, I keep investigating. My eyes catch on the huge gates that block two tunnels on either side of the pool, opposite from where I am. Maybe I can lift one of those because I can’t see any other way I can get out of this section.
Trying to keep my mind busy so that I don’t panic over what’s likely going to be a complete failure, I run through ideas of what could’ve been kept in this pool. Dolphins? They could definitely fit, but I feel like the owner of this place might’ve gone for an animal with more flare. Sharks? Eh, likely too ordinary. My mind races, finally halting on what would’ve been a show-stopper. Holy shit! Is there any way he could’ve had some kind of whale?
By the time I hit that point in my brainstorming, I’ve reached the gates. With a deep breath, I do my best impersonation of Superman, desperately trying to get them to budge. As expected, nothing moves except me, and my heart sinks. I’m going to have to call someone to get me out. But before I can pull my backpack off, I hear the whining sound of a golf cart or some kind of vehicle, so I start shouting.
“Hey, help me!” My shout echoes around the space, loud in this dry prison of mine, though I have no idea if the sound is traveling out. “Help please, I’m stuck down here!” I shout even louder.
The noise disappears, and of course, I have no way of knowing whether they’ve stopped or just gone past my range of hearing. My heart sinks even further, and I collapse to the floor, readying myself to pull my phone out of my backpack. I just don’t know if I have it in me today to face a round of Summers smirks when my “siblings” hear about me needing to be rescued. I close my eyes, taking the deep breath I need to get this over with, but suddenly, a voice on the other side has my eyes snapping open and looking up. The sun is directly behind the person so I have to shield my eyes from the glare. A woman, maybe my dad's age, is standing there, hands on her hips and a frown on her face as the wind tousles her brown hair.
“What are you doing down there? This is private property, and you’re trespassing.” Her tone is harsh and unimpressed, and a wave of embarrassment floods me, any lingering thrill from my expedition faltering under the weight of her reaction.
“I’m so sorry. You’re right. I just wanted to have a look around, and I didn’t intend to cause any trouble. Did you see anyone else up there?” I change the subject, hoping she’ll forget about the whole trespassing thing. “Someone pushed me in here.” Her frown deepens as she scans the area.
“No, I didn’t. No trouble for years and then two people in one day,” she angrily mutters to herself. “Going to have to get a dog.”
“Could you help me out?” I ask, and her eyebrows rise in surprise.
“You can’t get out?”
“No, there’s no way,” I tell her. “Unless you can open those gates and there’s some way down those tunnels.”
She just shakes her head, eyes narrowing as she inspects the space. “The pool on the other side of this does have a shallow end, but the gate mechanism doesn't have any power running to it. So we’re going to have to figure another way out.”
“What about a ladder?” I ask, but again, she shakes her head.
“Not one long enough. There used to be a cherry picker to do the windows on the front house, but it hasn't been needed in years, and it’s not much good to you down there,” she explains. There’s silence for a moment, and an idea hits me. Still not an idea I like, but I was just about to give in and call someone anyway. Maybe help will get here faster if she just takes a trip there.
“Could you go to the house across the road and tell them what’s happened and ask if they could help?” I cross my fingers, hoping she’s desperate to get me off the property and not vindictive enough to leave me down here.
“The Summers’ place?” Her voice rises in surprise, and I nod.
“Yeah, hopefully my dad or Poppy might have an idea. I’d hate to have to call rescue to come and help us. That would besoembarrassing,” I groan.
“You’re one of the Summers kids? I don't recognize you from any of the media things I’ve seen.” She sounds suspicious now, and I don't blame her. The others are always in the gossip columns or business news for some reason or another, so it’s not ridiculous to assume I could be some weird hanger on, trying to get close to them in the most convoluted way possible.
“Yeah, I've just recently found out that Brad’s my dad. Neither of us knew the other existed.” Her frown softens at my admission, determination taking its place.
“Okay, hang tight. I’ll go and see if any of them can help us.”
“Thanks. I’m Harlow, by the way. What was your name?” I ask, not wanting to be rude. I mean, sheissaving my ass right now. Can’t hurt to be friendly.
“Emma, I’m the caretaker for this place. I do a drive around twice a day; you’re just lucky I heard you. Otherwise, you would have been stuck until tomorrow.”
I laugh and show her my backpack. “I was just getting ready to call someone for help when you showed up.”
She waves her hand at me. “Good luck with that. The reception back here tends to do what it wants. Anyway, hold tight, Harlow, and I’ll go see if I can get us some help. Hopefully, they have some equipment to help us get you out of there.” Emma disappears, and the sound of the vehicle can be heard driving away.
Blowing out a breath, I sit again in the bottom of the tank. God, I hope none of the siblings are around when she gets over there. But then one of them already knows I’m down here. Or at least that’s the only explanation my mind can come up with. Who else would be here? Who else has it out for me this badly? A shiver of disbelief courses down my spine. I think I need to confront her; it can’t keep going like this. Two near misses in the space of a couple of hours, that’s some serious fucking hate, and I don't know what to do to get her to back off. To let her know that I’m not so easily intimidated.
I run a hand through my hair. God, Dad is going to be so upset if I have to go to him to get her to stop. I really don't want to be that person, but she seems to be escalating.
Pulling my ever-present paperback out of my bag, I continue reading from where I left off to fill my time instead of focusing on all the hate that surrounds me. I’m not sure how long it’s going to take for her to find someone to help me.
About half an hour later, the droning sound of the vehicle returns, and my heart rate speeds up in anticipation. Did she find someone to help?
“Harlow, honey, are you okay?” My dad’s voice has me looking up and nodding my head sheepishly.
