The article described his discovery, the subsequent beginning of a caving expedition, and his disappearance more than six years ago.
About the time I washed up in Miami.
According to the article, he’d been conducting unsupervised night dives when he failed to surface from one of them. Presumed to have drowned, he was lost somewhere deep in the caves. It turns out a friend of his, Mark Glassier, sabotaged his dive equipment. And then there were more murders last year after this guy tried to cover up his crime. The university funding the project temporarily put the expedition to map the caves on hold due to the controversy. It’s been nearly a year, and they’re preparing to restart it.
Interesting.
I’ve done a lot of scuba diving with my friends in Miami. Not cave diving yet, but I’ve explored a few wrecks closed-circuit on rebreathers. When I took the required training to get certified, most of it came easily. I didn’t have to think. I knew what to do.
Cave diving is a different animal, but I’ve watched vlogs, talked to friends who dive caves, and I know everything about it. I had already planned to do it when I lived in Miami, but it’s expensive. It must have been part of my life. I feel a small spark of excitement. Exploring Carter’s Drop is something I can do. It fits.
A woman’s voice rings out from the hallway. She doesn’t notice me as she joins the group in the living room.
“Y’all are growing sprouts.” She’s carrying gear, cameras, and dive bags. “We may be in a holding pattern on the Drop, but we can still get lots of supplemental footage of the local wildlife.”
“Sid, you had us down three hours longer than we planned the other day. There’s probably a hotline out there for reporting this kind of abuse,” one man says.
“Nonsense,” she replies. “You think it’s bad now? You won’t know what to do with the sixteen-hour days we’re about to pull. I need to work y’all up to it… because I care.”
This girl looks like she’s just graduated, and she’s already leading a film crew into underwater caves? Impressive. Like the others, she’s wearing swimwear and pull-up shorts. They’re about to dive.
There’s grumbling, but they all gather up their equipment stacked against the living room wall and follow her to the door. That’s when she notices me.
“Hi there. Sorry if we disturbed you. Are you staying here too?”
“Yeah, I’m moving in tonight. I’m the housekeeper. Elliot Trevor.”
I’m going to go for it. You don’t get anything if you don’t ask.
“I just got to town and am doing cleaning jobs to make ends meet. What I’m really interested in is diving. I heard you guys talking. You’re filming Carter’s Drop?”
She looks at me closer, hesitant but curious. “Yes, we’re coordinating with Scott Rickter’s dive team. They’re mapping the caves—we’re making the movie.”
They’re obviously in a hurry. I’d better spit it out and see where it lands. “I know this is a long shot, but is there any chance I could get signed on as a volunteer for the shoot?”
“You’re certified for caves?”
“Yes,” I lie. I’ll figure that out later.
She glances past me toward the door, then back again. “Well, it’s not something I’d usually agree to on the fly like this, but we do need more hands. Had a guy quit yesterday.”
“Jeremy took the bribe we all got from Garrett,” an older, red-headed man adds. The rest of the group laughs.
“That’s because Jeremy has no balls. And I only need crewmates who have balls.” She gives a short nod to the other women. “She-balls are perfectly acceptable.” Her eyes sweep the room. “Anyone else missing their balls?”
They all snap into mock seriousness. They love her.
“I’ve got balls.” Seems like an easy enough prerequisite to me.
She looks at me again for a long minute. Uh oh. I don’t think I’ve impressed her.
“All right, I’ll give you a try if everything you’re telling me checks out.” She purses her lips. “Get all your documentation together. We’ll talk it over with Scott tonight. He’s got the final say.”
She heads for the door, her crew falling in behind her.
I stand there, stunned.
Did I really just land a cave-diving job with a film crew?
