And then something else occurred to him. It wasn’tjusthis estimation of her that had grown, so had his feelings. What he’d thought were simplelustandlikeabruptly felt bigger. Wider. Deeper.More.
Chapter 10
8:04 p.m.…
“Mason first. You second. And I’ll be the caboose on this train,” Bran said, and Maddy tried with her whole heart to project courage even though she was feeling about as yellow as mustard with half the bite.
It wasn’t the upcoming swim that gave her the willies. It was the thought of the barracuda that had her blood running through her veins in a river colder than a cast-iron commode—another of Grandma Bettie’s faves.
It’s in here. With us. And it’s hungry.
When her teeth threatened to chatter, she clenched her jaw so tight she reckoned she heard a molar crack.
She glanced into the water, trying to see the silver flash of the fish. And barring that, she hoped to get a gander at the crack in the foundation of the fort. Unfortunately, neither worked. The barracuda was probably hanging back, suspended in the water, completely motionless in that terrifying way only predators of the deep could pull off.Brrrrr.And the tunnel? Well, it was down there. Somewhere unseen beneath all that dark water. And was it her imagination, or was it suddenly whispering up at her, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!”
“Use your arms to pull yourself along,” Mason instructed, his Beantown accent making it sound likeuse yah ahms ta pull yahself along. He could’ve stepped into a scene inGood Will Huntingwithout missing a beat. “And if you get scared down there, just keep going. Don’t turn back. Turning back is the worst thing you could do.”
“Got it,” she managed around the Rock of Gibraltar-sized lump that had grown in the back of her throat. “Use my arms. No turnin’ back.”
Holy moly. That last part sounds ominous.
“Ready?” Bran asked. He was paddling behind her, providing a barrier between her and the waiting barracuda. She was so grateful she could kiss him.
Oh, wait. I already did that. And it was better than good, it was gggrrrreat!In fact, she was determined to repeat the exercise. Repeatedly. But preferably under less dire circumstances.
“I was born ready.” She was pleased to discover her voice wasn’t shivering like the rest of her.
Bran flashed his pirate smile. “Woman, you got more guts than—”
“You can string on a fence,” she finished for him.
“What?” He cocked his head.
“It’s somethin’ my daddy always says to me. ‘You got more guts than you can string on a fence.’” She made a face. “What’simpliedthere is that my bravado usually outweighs my brains.” Not waiting on either Bran or Mason to agree or disagree with the sentiment, she continued, “That being the case, let’s make like a stump-tailed cow at fly time, and get busy gettin’ it done.”
“I know that last part was English.” Mason frowned. “But I’m not sure I understood it.”
Apparently he didn’t care to be enlightened because he sank low in the water, only his face above the gently lapping surface. She watched him blow out a big, blustery breath and suck in an even larger one. Then he just…disappeared. Allowed the water—theinhabitedwater—to swallow him up.
“Your turn,” Bran said.
She nodded, ignoring all the inner bells and whistles warning her that what she was about to do was completely, totally, utterly bonkers. It wasn’t too difficult, considering she’d been ignoring those inner bells and whistles most of her life.Leap before you look.Her father said she should have the phrase tattooed across her forehead. Maybe after tonight, she’d take the suggestion seriously.
Mimicking Mason’s moves, she kicked away from the side of the fort and allowed herself to sink into the moat until the warm water covered everything but her face. With her ears submerged, theglug-glugof the liquid moving against the side of the structure was both muted and strangely amplified.
Blowing out a huge breath, she then sucked in as much air as she could. Sucked until her lungs couldn’t hold another drop. Sucked until her nose was filled with the distinctly ocean-y smell of the barnacles clinging to the side of the fort wall: fish and shells and algae and…death.
She hoped that last bit wasn’t portentous of anything as she dove beneath the surface, kicking hard to propel herself downward, her hands gently rubbing along the rough masonry in search of the opening. She wasn’t sure why she kept her eyes open in the stinging salt water. It’s not like she could see anything. But then, suddenly, she did. An inkier blackness within all the blackness, right before her probing fingers sank into a hollow.
Here goes, she thought as she pulled herself into the narrow tunnel.This one’s for the girls.
It was a mantra she repeated as she hauled herself along, finding handholds in the bricks and the slimy sea life that made its home in the craggy walls. Maddy didn’tbeginto want to know what was slipping beneath her fingers. Nor did she want to contemplate the seconds ticking by.
Twenty feet? Really?It was beginning to feel more like two hundred.
Then again, time flies when you’re havin’ fun!
She redoubled her efforts, adding a few soft kicks to the work her arms were doing. Shesoftlykicked because she didn’t want to smack into the walls of the fissure. The tunnel was tighter than a skeeter’s butthole—she couldn’t imagine how Mason and Bran were able to shoulder their way through—and no telling how stable the centuries’ old brickwork was. Lord knows, she didn’t want to trigger a cave-in. Also, she didn’t want to boot Bran in his handsome mug.
