Chapter 2

Static crackled through the comm, followed by Maxwell's lazy drawl. "How are you feeling, Alelia? Dizzy yet?"

I struggled to my feet, bracing myself against the bulkhead as I gasped for air. The gas in my mask was thinning out, each breath like trying to suck air through cotton.

"Just switched it to heliox." Maxwell's tone was casual. "Deep-dive formula, darling. You should thank me for being so thorough."

Blood pounded at my temples. Heliox accelerates heat loss and triggers narcosis-like hallucinations. He wanted me to break down completely on camera.

Another metallic snap echoed from deep in the hold, louder than before.

I had to get out of here.

Taking a shaky breath, I forced myself to focus. The cargo hold's layout materialized in my mind—a 1920s freighter, a ship structure I'd studied countless times. There should be a passage to the crew quarters on the left.

I started forward, groping my way through the darkness. The bilge water rose with each step. Overhead, pipes swayed in the current, corroded metal ready to come crashing down any second.

"She's moving." Siren's voice carried a note of excitement. "Maxwell, she's trying to escape."

"Escape?" He laughed. "That ship's a maze. Without guide ropes, she's not getting out."

I found the passage. The narrow corridor stretched into blackness, its walls thick with algae and barnacles. Gripping my flashlight, I pushed through.

The weak beam barely cut the darkness. Rusted cabin doors lined both sides, their nameplates catching fragments of light.

The crew quarters should be past the third turn. There'd be a hatch leading to the deck.

Just as I neared the corner, lights blazed overhead—the guide rope system Maxwell had installed, supposedly my lifeline out.

"See how thoughtful I am." His voice crackled in my ear. "Turned the lights on so you wouldn't be scared."

I didn't answer, just picked up my pace.

At the second corner, all the lights cut out at once.

Absolute darkness swallowed me whole.

"Oops." Maxwell's mock surprise grated. "Looks like we're having technical difficulties."

On the livestream, Siren covered her mouth, eyes glistening. "Oh god, Maxwell, what if she's terrified? Maybe we should—"

"Shh, baby." He cut her off. "Alelia's a professional. She can handle it. Can't you, darling?"

I pressed against the wall. My flashlight was dying, the beam fading fast.

Comments exploded across the screen:

[She's done for, no way out now]

[Bet she'll be begging! Throwing down another ten mil!]

[This is brilliant—lights out, slow torture]

[Siren's so sweet, still worried about her]

I clenched my jaw and switched off the flashlight. If they wanted to play in the dark, I'd show them what professional really meant.

Closing my eyes, I ran my hand along the wall. Three years studying this ship. Every corridor, every hatch burned into memory.

I didn't need their lights.

My fingers found a nameplate—cold, rough-edged, slightly raised. The crew rest area marker. Five more meters, turn left, stairs to the deck.

"She's still moving." Disbelief crept into Siren's voice. "How does she know where she's going?"

"Just luck." Maxwell didn't sound concerned.

I kept going, feeling my way forward. Something soft gave under my foot, releasing a putrid smell. I swallowed my nausea and pushed on.

Water sounds overhead. The structure was failing, piece by piece.

I picked up my pace. My fingers finally touched the stair railing—cold metal, slick with algae.

"Ladies and gentlemen." Maxwell's voice returned, impatient now. "Seems Dr. Alelia's proving more stubborn than anticipated. Let's make this interesting."

The moment he finished, a violent tremor hit.

The entire wreck shuddered.

"Maxwell!" I shouted into the comm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just testing Siren's new sonar probe design." Casual as discussing the weather. "Didn't realize it packed such a punch. Really rattling that old rust bucket."

I gripped the railing tight, feeling the metal flex in my hands. This wasn't a test—he was deliberately creating vibrations, trying to bring the whole ship down early.

Pipes overhead began snapping. Rust-colored water rained down.

"Maxwell, stop!" My voice cracked. "The whole ship's going to collapse!"

"Then get out faster." Light as air. "Or you could just admit it now. Say you were jealous of Siren. Say your judgment was wrong."

Another massive jolt.

The stairs beneath me shrieked, metal twisting.

The stream cut to the command room. Siren in Maxwell's arms, tears streaking her face. "Alelia, please... just stop being stubborn... I can't stand to see you hurt..."

Perfect performance. Fragile, caring, innocent.

The comments flipped instantly:

[Siren actually cares about her]

[Alelia's just being proud]

[He's helping her see sense]

[Just admit it already! We're all waiting!]

My knuckles went white on the railing.

I remembered a storm once. The ship pitching hard. Maxwell holding me tight, his voice low in my ear: "Don't be afraid. As long as I'm here, nothing can hurt you."

Now he was the one creating the storm, watching me struggle in it.

I let go of the railing and started climbing, one step at a time. Each step swayed under my weight.

"Stubborn woman." Maxwell sighed. "Fine. Let me show you what despair really looks like."

I heard a switch click.

The next second, the stairs collapsed beneath me.