Pressure by Brian Keene Page A

moment…”
    Abhi’s expression turned grim and decisive. He stood up abruptly, fists clenched at his side.
    â€œRight. Both of you rest. That’s an excellent idea. You rest up while I take us in.”
    Paolo nodded. “You’ll get no argument from me.”
    â€œNo,” Carrie protested, rolling over to face them. “We’re not … done out here.”
    â€œWe most certainly are,” Paolo said. “At least for today. That was too close.”
    â€œAbhi…” Gritting her teeth, Carrie forced herself to sit up. “I’m in charge … here. We need to … stay.”
    Shaking his head, Abhi tipped his still-smoking pipe over the side, dumping the tobacco into the water. “What we need is to get you to a doctor.”
    â€œI’m okay,” she insisted. “Yes, I ran into trouble down there, and yes, something paralyzed me, but the sensation is passing. Feeling and movement are already returning. See?”
    She wiggled her leg, and then lifted it up and down, offering proof.
    Groaning with the effort, Paolo rose to his feet. “Let’s take your wetsuit off.”
    â€œOh no,” Carrie joked. “You had your chance at that when we were at Scripps, buddy. That ship has now sailed.”
    Paolo offered a tight-lipped, humorless smile. “I see that you still make jokes when you are scared. But this is not the time for that. I’m serious. Take your wetsuit off and let me see what’s going on with your leg.”
    Carrie didn’t respond.
    â€œAbhi is right,” he continued. “We should leave. What if … whatever was down there … surfaces, or comes up under the boat?”
    â€œIt won’t,” Carrie said. “I don’t think it will come to the surface. I think it’s afraid of the light.”
    â€œWait a minute,” Abhi protested. “What thing? What are you talking about?”
    Paolo ignored him. “How can you be sure?”
    â€œYou saw how it reacted to our torches. And when we neared the surface, and the sunlight was stronger, it stopped pursuing us. Call it a scientific hunch, but I don’t think it will come up here, unless it absolutely has to.”
    â€œI hope you are right.”
    â€œWhat thing?” Abhi demanded again.
    Still ignoring him, Paolo knelt beside Carrie and gently touched her leg. “Can you feel that?”
    Swallowing, Carrie nodded. “Barely. But yes, I can feel it.”
    â€œLean forward.”
    He began to remove her wetsuit. Abhi turned away, clearly uncomfortable.
    â€œPaolo…” Carrie took a deep breath. “I’m telling you…”
    â€œI want to look at your leg,” he explained. “Just relax, Gatito.”
    His usage of ‘kitten’—their old term of endearment—surprised Carrie. Paolo hadn’t called her by that pet name since they broke up all those years ago. As he peeled the suit away, Carrie shivered, despite the sunlight and heat.
    â€œI don’t see any wounds,” Paolo observed. “Where was the approximate origin of the paralysis?”
    â€œAround my ankle, I guess. But it happened quickly. You know the sensation we both experienced earlier, on our lips?”
    Paolo nodded.
    â€œIt was like that, but much quicker.”
    â€œBut your leg and ankle weren’t exposed like your mouth was. The wetsuit was sealed.” Frowning, Paolo examined her ankle more closely. “I don’t see any marks. Nothing to indicate a sting.”
    â€œYou were thinking a jellyfish?” Carrie asked.
    â€œYes. It would make sense. Jellyfish blooms occur in the dead zones caused by hypoxia.”
    â€œBut I didn’t see any jellyfish. Did you?”
    â€œNo,” Paolo admitted. “Certainly not a bloom of them. But we can’t discount the possibility that we overlooked one. Our visibility was hampered, after all.”
    â€œAnd