Pressure by Brian Keene

light up. Then, the torch was gone.
    Wide-eyed, Paolo swam upward again with renewed speed. Carrie braved one last glance, trying hard to catch a glimpse of the creature below them, but it was still indistinguishable—just a dark, monstrously big, amorphous mass, radiating cold.
    Her ears began to ring, and she felt her pulse throbbing in her throat, as her oxygen ran low. The aching in her lungs increased, becoming a sharp, urgent, pounding pain. Kicking hard, she headed for the surface, following Paolo’s wake. The coldness seemed to follow, nipping at her flippers. Carrie stared upward, focusing on keeping the bottom of the boat visible. It floated above them, a safe haven full of sunlight and shelter and most importantly, air.
    Suddenly, her left leg seized up, as if she had been shocked. The numbness in her face grew stronger, and Carrie had to fight to keep her mouth from opening involuntarily. Her eyes felt droopy, and the ringing in her ears was now a siren. Her left leg was useless. She struggled to swim upward, using her other leg and arms to propel herself, but the paralysis crept up her side. Her other leg began to tingle.
    Using her torchlight, Carrie hurriedly examined her leg, looking for evidence of a jellyfish sting or something else that would explain what was happening to her. As she did, she caught sight of the predator below. It began to take shape, but what she saw only confused her more. Her fear and desperation melted away as she watched, replaced with a calm, almost Zen-like state. Why had she been so afraid? She couldn’t remember. Then she decided that it didn’t matter. The creature was far more fascinating than her own foibles and insecurities. The thing below seemed to simultaneously surge upward and recede downward—an ever-changing, amorphous collection of segmented appendages, tentacles, beaks, blubber, and eyes—sharp-edged, spindly softness surrounded by an inky blackness that moved with it. With what little strength she had left, Carrie moved her torch, hoping to see it better. The creature paused, as if fearful of the light.
    Then, in the midst of the shifting blob, Carrie saw her dead mother.
    Mom…?
    â€œHello, Carrie.”
    Something seized her arm, pulling hard. Still engulfed in calm, Carrie glanced up and saw Paolo. His expression was frantic. He tugged, urging her to swim. Carrie shrugged, trying to communicate that she was okay. When she attempted to point at her mother, she found that the strange paralysis that had now rendered both of her legs useless was creeping into her arms, as well.
    Paolo wrapped his arms around her mid-section and strained, kicking for the surface. Still clutching her torch, Carrie glanced downward. Her mother was gone. She opened her mouth to call out for her, and then—
    â€”they broke the surface, and Carrie coughed, gagging on seawater. Paolo gripped her tightly. She coughed again, struggling to breathe. Waves crashed over them both as Paolo guided them toward the boat.
    â€œIs she okay?” Abhi’s tone was alarmed.
    â€œHelp me pull her up,” Paolo gasped. “I’m … losing strength.”
    Abhi pulled her from the water and into the boat. Sputtering, Carrie rolled onto her side, while the frantic boatswain’s mate assisted Paolo in climbing aboard. Paolo collapsed onto the deck, panting. Abhi stared at them both in concern.
    â€œI’m … fine…” Paolo waved him away. “Check on … Carrie…”
    â€œI’m … okay…” she rasped. “My leg…”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with your leg?” Abhi knelt at her side in concern.
    â€œParalyzed…” Her voice was hoarse. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her head throbbed.
    â€œWas it a jellyfish sting?” Abhi asked. “Let me see.”
    It took all of her strength just to shake her head and feebly wave him away. “Just let me … rest a