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I pulled the pin from the fire extinguisher, and setting the pace, I ran next to the wall of the equipment room, spraying thick foam onto the flames devouring the money scattered at our feet. I turned the corner, and the fire roared as I fought to show it who was boss.
When we burst inside the equipment room, Rhino groaned like a beast beneath us.
I shut the doors, and as heat licked my back, I stepped away from the metal door.
The chaos of the equipment room had multiplied in our absence as equipment succumbed to the shift in gravity. Vests, fins, and masks were scattered among the mess. Thankfully, the tanks were still contained in their cage.
Amidst the mayhem, Old Smithy lay crumpled in a pool of blood. His body had slipped toward the fishing gear as if his favorite rod wanted to send him a farewell.
Indiana collapsed beside him, and her hand shook as she rolled him onto his back and cupped his weatherbeaten face. “Oh, Dad.”
Her voice cracked, and her raw pain sliced through the smoke-filled air.
“Indy. We have to go. There’s nothing we can do for him now.”
“I know.” She stood, and her amber eyes swam with unshed tears and something else: a fierce determination to live through another life-altering event.
“You know what?” Her tone was surprisingly steady. “Going down with the ship would have been exactly what Dad would have wanted. Rhino is the perfect coffin for him.”
“Good.” I kissed her cheek. “Then let’s ensure he gets his other wish—that you live.”
Her lips formed a wobbly smile. “Okay.”
Shoving away pieces of equipment, we pulled together all the dive gear we needed as outside the metal doors, the fire raged like a monster was clawing at our backs.
“Tyler,” Indiana yelled over the sounds of splitting timber. “We may need more than one tank.”
“Okay. How do we do that?”
“If we toss the full tanks overboard, they’ll sink straight to the bottom, and we can fetch them when we get down there.”
“Good idea.” I tugged one of the tanks from the cage, and as she dragged it to the door, I hauled out a second one. “Let’s get our gear ready before we dump these.”
As we put our kits together, the metal doors screeched as if fighting the scorching heat.
Indiana tested my kit, making sure I’d done everything correctly. With a nod, she scooped a spare tank into her arms. “Ready?”
“I’ll go first?—”
“Go!” She burst open the door and took off.
Cursing at her through the crackling fire, I gripped the tank and chased after her, running over charred hundred-dollar bills and chunks of burning debris.
At the side railing, she hurled the tank overboard without pausing. I did the same. After the initial splash, our tanks sunk into the abyss, ready for us to find them later.
Provided this plan worked.
Rhino let out a colossal groan and her ass dropped away. I grabbed Indiana as we tumbled sideways, crashing into the railing that bordered the lower deck.
“She’s going, Indy! We need to run.” Gripping her hand, I pulled her toward the equipment room.
As the angle of the deck became a monstrous force, water gushed over the dive deck, smothering the flames. Dense smoke and an evil hiss added to the chaos.
Now it wasn’t just the fire that was a beast at our backs, it was the ocean hungry for destruction.
We ran into the equipment room, and as I tried to block Indiana’s view of Old Smithy’s body jammed against the other door, I lifted her integrated dive vest with the attached tank onto her back.
Rhino lurched beneath us. Water crept across the floor.
